Beautiful Distraction(153)

“Tell me more,” I whispered. “Please.”

Jett’s jaw set, and his eyes turned into layers of ice. “She barely made the effort to write a card or call. As a kid, I thought it was my fault for not being good enough. It took me a while to understand my mother wasn’t just an alcoholic, she was a drug user. She loved us, but she loved her drugs more. She chose to be like that, which in some way is worse than tragedy. I tried to help her. We all did, but she pushed us away. I learned to live with it and made it my prerogative to turn into a different person. A person capable of love and trust and intimacy.” His hands cupped my face, his gaze boring into me, shaking my core. We had similar experienes in life. Maybe we weren’t so different after all. If my sister didn’t die, she might have gone on the same destructive path, like his mother. “Tragedy may hit all of us in one way or another, but fate’s not our enemy, Brooke. We are. By locking yourself away from the world, you choose your own mistakes and destroy any chance of ever finding happiness. You cannot control life, but you can choose who you are and what you make of it.”

I could feel the truth in his words, and it spoke to me on an innermost level. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes, but I didn’t hide them.

“I’m sorry for my outburst,” Jett said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He kissed my forehead. His eyes were no longer clouded, as though he could leave the past behind by just looking at me. He wanted to be with me. And I wanted to be with him. But was it too soon to let love happen?

“Why do you want me?” I asked, suppressing the trembling of my voice. “I’m strange, definitely not perfect, and fucked up. Actually, a lot of the latter.”

“Perfect is boring and overrated.” He smiled that lopsided grin of his that made my lower abdomen twist and curl with delicious desire. “I’m looking for sexy, fun, kind, and honest. And you tick all the right boxes, Brooke.” Compliments weren’t my thing, but for some inexplicable reason Jett’s words made me return the smile. “And then there’s the fact that we’re kindred spirits. You’re fucked up and I’m fucked up too, and that makes great dinner conversation.” He winked, as though he didn’t really mean that, but his expression remained serious.

Maybe he was right and we both were far from perfect, even though he seemed pretty perfect to me. What mattered was that he had all the qualities I wanted in a man. “I like honesty, and you’re honest.”

“Then let’s always be honest with one another,” Jett whispered. “I was disappointed so often in my life, I vowed to never trust anyone again…until you came along. You weren’t available emotionally. You weren’t talking relationships and building castles in the air. That’s sexy as hell. Men don’t like the emotional and the needy.”

“I can be needy at times,” I whispered.

“I don’t mind that, Brooke. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” His eyes shimmered with anxious hope, as though he feared I might push him away.

Us.

I liked the sound of that.

“Give me a chance to prove that I’m good for you,” Jett said.

My fingertips brushed his chin and settled on his chest where I could feel his heart drumming to a frenzied beat, almost matching mine. This was it, the moment I decided to change my life around. Another first and, I hoped, one of many more to come.

“I’d love to give us a try,” I said.

His glorious lips curled into the most stunning smile I had ever seen, melting my heart. “I thought nothing would change your mind.”

“What can I say, you’re a master of persuasion. In fact, you’re a guy with many talents.” Smiling, I pulled him on top of me and wrapped my legs around his waist, ready to demand that he put one of those talents to good use.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE





It was early afternoon when I finally managed to drag myself out of Jett’s steamy bed to text Sylvie I’d be back home in an hour, in case she had forgotten. Because my car was still parked at the airport, costing me a fortune, Jett offered to drive me. Since I wasn’t keen on Jett’s speeding through New York’s streets, I declined in favor of the subway, which didn’t bode well with him. In the end we decided to call a company car that would drive me home. I left my car keys with him because he insisted on getting someone to pick it up for me, and I even let him carry my luggage downstairs from his apartment while his driver was waiting.

“You’ll text?” Shivering in the damp chill of a rainy afternoon, I bit my lip nervously. Playing the clingy girlfriend wasn’t like me, and yet I couldn’t help it. This was different. We were different.