What is happening?
Panic rises in my throat.
Do I have something stuck in my teeth? Or does Jett not want to kiss me because he’s having second thoughts about the whole plan? With all these gorgeous women cheering him on, I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to attach himself to me. But there was no ounce of hesitation when he proposed the idea to me.
No turning back, that’s what we agreed to.
Jett lowers his head toward mine, his hand cradling the back of my head. He presses his mouth gently against my forehead, the soft puff of air from his nose sends a ripple through my core.
His lips are tender, and warm, and despite all the questions swirling in my mind, a feeling of comfort washes over me.
Dan interrupts us right as we pull apart.
“You need to get out of here. Now that we’ve dropped that bomb on your fans, you need to go home and hunker down,” he instructs us. “Go straight there, no après party tonight. The car is already waiting.”
Jett nods and follows Dans instructions, taking off his ski boots and handing him his gear. My neck starts to prickle, and when I scan the crowd, all eyes are glued to me. Including Miss Jett Titties. Her stare is like daggers.
As we turn to leave, I hear Dan mutter to Jett under his breath. Something about us not following the plan. Jett doesn’t answer but instead veers away from him and slides a gloved hand into mine. He looks down at me with his signature aloof and unfazed grin.
“Looks like I’m taking you home.”
CHAPTER 11
POPPY
Jett leadsme back through the throng, and I cling tightly to his hand.
People clammer to get to him as he pushes through, questions hurtling at him, atus.They want to know who I am, how long we’ve been together, and if I know about the scandal.
My ears are ringing by the time we make it to the parking lot of the ski resort and find the car that Dan had arranged for after the event. Jett opens the door and lets me slide in ahead of him. I let out a pent up breath once we’re both inside and the space between us is quiet.
I’m thankful Jett took the lead, because my brain is scattered. This is why I don’t do things like this. I don’t do big crowds, I don’t leave Heartwood. I like the safety of the café; the regulars I interact with every day. The sanctity of my little apartment at the end of a busy shift.
It’ll take me days to recharge and recover from this. I doubt I’ll have days.
I’m sure Dan and Brooke have other events planned forus, and a twinge of regret stabs at my gut as the reality of what I’ve agreed to settles over me. Part of me questions if I set myself up to drown by jumping in the deep end.
I wonder if Jett is having similar thoughts, if he’s doubting, second guessing. If that’s why he didn’t go through with the kiss today. After everything I saw today, I think maybe he had the right idea.
Jett is quiet beside me as the car weaves its way down the mountain road, snow crusted evergreens whooshing past the windows. Clouds have rolled in now, and big, chunky snowflakes fall silently on the windshield.
Neither of us has said anything, even as we pull up out front a large, modern house. It’s got black siding and dark wood trim, and looks like a rectangular box perched atop a forested hill.
Windows wrap all the way around one side. The front door must be ten feet tall and extends all the way up to the roof. He opens it for me and lets me inside, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure no one has followed us here. I wonder how often Jett has to do that now–look over his shoulder for crazed fans or the media.
I guess now I’ll have to do that, too. I never considered that aspect when I agreed to this, the way no part of my life is going to be completely private ever again. My mouth suddenly goes dry as all the ways my life is about to change crash over me at once.
That is, if Jett is still just as invested in the plan.
Eye on the prize,I remind myself, letting out a calming breath.
“This is where you live?” I ask, looking around the expansive foyer, and breaking the silence between us. Casualconversation might keep my mind off the conflicting thoughts warring in my mind.
“Yeah, this is it.” He throws his jacket down on the bench in the entry, not caring that his snow gear is now strewn about, the clutter contrasting with the clean lines of his furniture.
I carefully remove my snow suit, folding it so I can place it in a neat pile next to his coat.
“I never imagined your place like this.” I pad through the house in my fluffy wool socks, following Jett to the kitchen and the back living room.
