Chapter 36
CARI
Dex’s voice was laced with disapproval. I could feel Jett brushing it off, but it leaves me wondering … does he really feel what I feel, or is he telling me what I want to hear?
These past days with him have been everything. A fantasy made real, woven with stolen nights and whispered promises. I still can’t believe this is my life. Up until that call with Dex, I was floating, wrapped in the warmth of it all. Brooke’s laughter, our days spent out together, these perfect little memories we’ve been making—they’ve meant the world to me. They’re priceless.
But now, doubts begin to creep in, slithering through the edges of my mind where I’d tried to lock them away. It’s not just the age difference—though Jett is nearly a decade older and so wildly out of my league he might as well belong to another world. No, it’s more than that. Jett is a man with experience, intensity … sexually, he’s light-years ahead. Sometimes I wonder, am I just some passing fling for him, despite what he says?
This isn't business. This is personal.
That’s what he said to me, but he’s also admitted to lying, to telling people what they want to hear. Can I trust him? Can I really believe in this?
I’m tired. Slipping back and forth to Jett’s room in the early hours is taking its toll, draining me. My phone blinks with missed calls from Eliana. She’d texted a few days ago, and I replied, planning to catch up properly—but I never did. We keep missing one another, but seeing her missed calls now feels like a pull back to reality, so I hit the call button.
The phone barely rings before she picks up, gushing with an apology. “I'm sorry. Sorry I didn't call you, but I'm only getting your missed calls and your messages now. I'm not sure what's going on with my service provider. How are you, Car?!” She sounds so happy to hear from me.
“I'm good! Great!” I smile as I say this.
“Busy with Brooke or ...?” She knows me too well to know that I'm happy about something else, despite how much I adore being with Brooke.
I hesitate, feeling the pressure of the secret I’ve been holding in. But maybe it’s time to let her in, to share some of it. “El, I … I have something to tell you.”
“Go on. I'm all ears.” Now she's smiling as she says this. I can tell.
“I … I did what Aunt Scarlett said. I had some fun.”
“You go girl!
“With … Jett.”
“You did what?” Eliana screeches, and I have to pull the phone back.
“I had fun … with Jett. Things … just happened, you know?”
“No, I don’t know! What just happened, exactly? Stop talking in riddles!” Her voice is sharp with disbelief.
I bite my lip. “We … you know… we did the deed .”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Eliana goes silent, and I can almost imagine her fainting in shock.
“Say something!” I urge, a bit panicked now.
“You did the deed ? Cari, that’s not even you talking. What do you mean? What deed ?”
I swallow, cheeks heating. “We … went all the way. Quite a few times now, actually.” My insides heat just thinking about it.
“You had sex with Jett Knight? A few times?” Eliana’s voice pierces my eardrums.
With a deep breath, I tell her—well, the main parts, anyway. I don’t mention the red dress, or the bar, or any specifics. You never know who’s listening on the other end of a line. Instead, I keep it broad, sketching out the main points.
“I can’t believe it,” she says, when I finish. “Jett Knight, your tormentor? The guy who drives you insane? The one you have a crush on and yet hate for the way he treats you?”
“Ah, but it’s not just me. It’s not been one-sided, El. He’s had feelings for me all along.”
“Is that what he told you after he slept with you or before?”
I don't like the sarcasm in her tone. “Don’t make it sound so … vulgar. It’s not like that,” I insist.
“You sure?” Eliana’s tone doesn’t soften. “I bet his girlfriend isn’t there. Are you sure he’s not just using you?”
“He’s not! They broke up.”
“How convenient.” She doesn’t sound impressed. This wasn’t the reaction I wanted. I thought she’d be happy for me, even excited. But instead, I feel a dull ache as my best friend’s doubts seep into my thoughts.
“I gotta go,” I say, my voice wavering.
“Don't go!”
“I have to. Brooke's getting up,” I mumble, ending the call and pulling my knees to my chest.
I feel a sharp stab of loneliness. This has been the closest I’ve ever felt to being in a deep relationship. Except it’s not a relationship. I know I shouldn’t even call it that—it’s more like a whirlwind affair, an erotic fling in paradise.
Go for it , Aunt Scarlett told me, full of encouragement and warmth. She would understand. Maybe she’d know what to say. I pick up the phone, dialing her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Her recorded message fills my ear, and just the sound of her voice brings a lump to my throat.
“Hi, Aunt Scarlett.” My voice wobbles, my chest tightening as a tear slips down my cheek. She sounds so much like my mom, and I realize just how much I miss her—how much I wish I could talk to her, to ask her what to do. My mom would have understood, and she would have counseled me and helped me through this.
“I miss you so much,” I whisper. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” Another tear slides down. “You’re probably busy, so I’ll talk to you when I get back.”