Chapter 34
JETT
I’d almost begged off my great-aunt’s ridiculous matchmaking dinner party. In fact, after leaving Rabbit Island, I’d flown back to New York in a moment of weakness and found myself at Locke Maris’s front door.
His housekeeper had answered and looked at me with reserve. “Mr. Maris is out of town.”
“For how long?” I’d asked, feeling stupid that I didn’t know. “He’s not still in Italy, right?”
She’d shaken her head. “No. But I don’t know how long he’ll be gone. He didn’t say.” She eyed me. “And if he did, I wouldn’t tell a stranger his business.”
“I’m sorry. I’m… not a stranger. I promise. My name is Jett.” I’d swallowed and then made a decision. It wouldn’t make a difference to her, but it made a difference to me. “Jett Marian.”
Her smile had softened. “Well, Jett Marian. I can tell him you stopped by the next time he checks in, alright?”
I’d smiled and thanked her before walking away.
And I’d spent the entire flight to San Francisco vowing to take it as a sign.
Locke Maris wasn’t meant for me. There were too many reasons to count.
The sheer number of lies between us. The fact that he didn’t know the real me.
Both of our histories with being workaholics and avoiding emotional entanglements.
And that didn’t even take into account the fact that he might still identify as straight.
So I’d arrived at Aunt Tilly’s “bachelor” party—to which she’d invited nothing but bachelors, for the most part—fully intending to put Locke Maris behind me—at least for the moment—and be the usual fun-time guy my family knew.
Fake it till you make it.
I was the king of faking it, and I certainly wasn’t going to fail now. The hotel ballroom was filled with eligible bachelors of all kinds, and I wasn’t going to be the one to bring the mood down.
“He’s cute,” I said, tipping my champagne glass discreetly at a tall man with smooth, medium-brown skin and a killer fade.
My cousin Caspian eyed the man up and down and turned beet red. “He’s also a famous influencer who does videos about sexual health,” he whispered. “I could never.”
My brother glanced at the tall man and turned back to Cas. “Why not? He’s hot.”
Cas shook his head quickly. “No, yeah. But like… he probably knows things. Things I don’t know.” He lowered his voice even more. “Skill-level things.”
“Think of all he could teach you,” our cousin JJ said, bouncing his eyebrows. His wife rolled her eyes and walked away to get another drink.
I reached my glass over to clink with his. “Smart man.”
Gabe clapped Cas’s shoulder and suggested they move to the table where their place cards were. The two of them were at a different table from me.
“We’re meeting up after for shots, right?” Gabe asked. “All the cousins?”
I looked at the place card two over from mine. “I haven’t seen Wolfe yet. Is he here?”
Gabe looked around the large room. “I haven’t seen him yet. He was supposed to be here, though. Did something happen to him?”
Cas appeared worried. “Aunt Tilly will be pissed if he doesn’t show. He’s her favorite.”
It was true. She had a soft spot for the guy, but then again, she was a sucker for old souls and interesting characters. Men with bleeding hearts.
She was less impressed with those of us who kept it casual.
She was the quintessential matriarch who seemed to want everyone to fall in love and settle down.
Needless to say, I’d been avoiding her like the plague all evening.
As Cas and Gabe moved off toward their table, I turned to take my own seat.
I snickered at my coupled-up cousins who’d been stashed together at an old-people’s table in the corner of the room.
They seemed perfectly happy, especially my cousin Alex and his boyfriend, Judd—the man I’d almost hooked up with in Amsterdam a few years ago.
What would have happened if I’d kissed the other man in Amsterdam? If Judd hadn’t gone to the men’s room and we’d headed up to his room before Locke arrived?
I shuddered to think of it. But that’s what was going through my head when I continued the sweep of the party, looking for Wolfe… and saw Locke Maris come striding into the room looking like he was there to lay waste to an entire village and take revenge upon his enemies.
It was a hallucination. Or a dream. Or a stroke.
A psychotic break, maybe?
In the time it took me to realize he was actually here, I panicked.
There was no way I could talk to him here, of all places.
Not with my entire family around. Cousins, siblings, friends.
I had a history of crying like a baby when overwhelmed with emotion.
I’d already done it at least once before over Locke, and chances were I’d do it again the minute he asked me to explain myself.
The minute he realized I wasn’t anything like the man I’d pretended to be.
As I bolted from the room, all I could think about was getting to my hotel room. I said a silent prayer of thanks for Gabe’s insistence that we get separate rooms in case he wanted to bring a guy back to his. With any luck, I could have my big sobbing breakdown in private.
I stabbed the elevator button several times. “Come on, come on,” I muttered, staring up at the digital display.
“Don’t fucking move,” I heard Locke say in a low voice as he strode quickly toward me, his long legs eating up the ground between us.
The elevator doors slid open, and I darted inside, hammering the button for my floor over and over while saying a prayer to all the elevator gods.
Just as the doors began to slide closed, he shoved his hand between them and held them long enough to squeeze in.
My entire body shook with fear. Fear he would confront me. Be angry with me.
Reject me.
But I also shook with need. He was right here. So fucking close. One deep inhale of his familiar scent would fucking gut me.
Don’t breathe. Just don’t breathe.
This elevator didn’t have enough oxygen. I could hardly pull in enough air to breathe anyway.
“You’re here,” I said stupidly.
His dark eyes narrowed and then began to take inventory. For seventeen floors, that man’s gaze moved over my body like it was reestablishing lost territory.
“I am,” he finally said.
The tears were coming. I could feel them. My nostrils stung, and my chin wobbled. Dammit. Fuck. Nobody wanted this. Absolutely no one.
Locke pulled the Stop button and jammed the elevator. Then he crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited.
As if the alarm wasn’t blaring.
As if security wouldn’t respond.
As if he had all the time in the world for me.
I started babbling. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I left you.
God, I am so fucking sorry for that. I wanted to protect you, but still, thinking of you handling everything alone…
And I… I’m not who you think I am, Locke.
I lied. I know you hate liars and manipulators.
I know you’ll never be able to trust me after that.
And…” Then I got angry. Defensive. “And besides, you’re not even comfortable with your sexuality!
You don’t want a relationship. The whole reason you picked me was because I was easy! ”
His bark of laughter made me jump. “I picked you because I couldn’t keep my fucking hands off you. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Because for four fucking years, I looked for you. Thought of you. Dreamed of you.”
This couldn’t be real. If I woke up in my bed right now, I was going to be fucking livid.
“W-what?” I asked stupidly.
He uncrossed his arms and stalked forward, backing me into the wall. Six feet of angry Locke Maris made my head spin. Took up all the oxygen. Burned me from my toes to the top of my head. And convinced me that this was really happening.
“Don’t fucking leave me again,” he growled, splaying a hand high on my chest and softly shaking me. “Whatever happens from now on, we handle it together. Do you understand?”
I lurched forward, crashing my mouth into his. My throat let out an embarrassing sound, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t hold back anymore, couldn’t stop myself from touching him, from having him. From tasting his mouth and inhaling his scent.
His mouth was possessive, punishing me hard enough to leave bruises. It didn’t matter. I yanked his shirt collar, pulling him as close as I could until my arms were wrapped around his entire head.
Locke’s hands were everywhere, on my chest and abs, under my shirt, up my back to grip my shoulder blades.
His thickening cock ground into me, pressing against my own. It was too blunt, too separated by layers. Too not close enough.
“Please,” I begged against his mouth. It came out too high. Too revealing. “Please,” I said again, in case he hadn’t heard it the first time.
“Give me an answer, Jethro.” He sounded angry. “Give me an answer right fucking now. You and me. Yes or no.”
My remaining fear tumbled past my lips without warning. “I… I don’t want to be your dirty secret.”
His face hardened, and he pulled away. Slammed the Stop button with his hand, then selected the Lobby level button.
“W-what’s happening right now?” I demanded.
Locke didn’t answer. He faced the doors as if ready to stride out and return to New York, giving me up as a bad bet. An ungrateful or distrusting partner.
I stepped up behind him and pressed my forehead to the back of his neck, taking a moment to breathe him in. “Please don’t leave,” I whispered. “Please give me a chance to understand.”
“No.”
A sickly beat of silence convinced me to step back while anger threatened to return. How fucking dare he reject me like this? But then he spoke again, right when the elevator chime dinged.
“I told you already, Jett. From now on, where I go, you go. You’re coming with me.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me along, back toward the ballroom where my great-aunt’s bachelor party was presumably in full swing.