"Why were you doing those nice things for me?" I'm tempted to ask if it's out of guilt, but a voice inside me tells me to cool it, that that would be theworstthing I could possibly say. For one of the very rare times in my life, I listen to that voice.
Wilkin pushes out a long breath, glances over at Reeve who gives what could be the world's smallest nod, then aims those light-brown eyes at me and says, "Because I'm in love with you."
17
Wilkin
Jett's face freezes like he's in the middle of a Zoom call and the Wi-Fi has gone wonky. I put my cup of tea down, my hands trembling.
I don't know why I said that and didn't make up something about wanting him to do well or, heck, feeling guilty about beating him so often. He probably would have liked either of those responses a lot more.
But I said what I said, and there's no going back now.
"Are you sure you guys don't want me to leave?" Reeve asks.
"No, stay. Please. I need you here." I really do.
Maybe it's the fact that he's here that made me feel safe to tell Jett the truth as opposed to making up some lame-ass lie. I'm not sure, but all I know is he cannot leave.
"Stay," Jett says, backing me up. "In case one of us gets murdered, it might be useful to have a witness."
Reeve sort of smiles, but I wouldn't be surprised if in the back of his mind, he's thinking we're both LA nutjobs.
Jett turns to face me, chewing his bottom lip. "You…love me?"
"I do." I drop my head, hit by the sudden realization of what I've said and how my admission is about to change everything between us forever.
"Love as in the way we used to love Snapchat filters back in high school or, like, love-love?"
"Love-love," I reply quietly, still staring at the floor.
Jett leans over as far as he can in his condition and slides his hand up and down my bicep. I turn sideways. Our eyes meet.
He grins. "Of all the things I've said and thought about you, I've never once doubted your taste levels."
My lips stretch. "That all you have to say?"
"I'm still at theneeds to use humor to process what's going onstage."
"I see." My eyes drift over to Reeve who's leaning forward, his cheeks a little redder than they were a moment ago, his eyes fixated on…the spot where Jett is touching me.
Emboldened in a way that's new yet feels oddly comfortable, I lift my hand and brush my thumb under Jett's chin. "I really liked kissing you."
His eyes widen, and for someone who accuses me of having a smug smirk, his own version isn't half bad. "That's because I'm a really good kisser."
I chuckle at his oh-so-Jett response. Then I glance over at Reeve. "I think Reeve liked it, too."
"Can confirm," he says, his voice deep and low.
"Want to go again?" I ask Jett.
"You got a fetish for injured guys who can't move?"
"If it weren't for injured guys who can't move, I wouldn't get laid at all."
My comment produces the exact reaction I was hoping it would. Shock followed by a surprised laugh.Yeah, I can befunny, Jett. You've just never let me show you this side of myself.
"If you want to kiss me, kiss me. Just take off your shirt, please."
