Chapter 13 – Dylan #3
“Not sure, but he was asking a lot of questions about your whereabouts since no one had told him you wouldn’t be there. When you were expected back in town. How our working together was going. Fishing for info.”
“And you told them what?”
“That you were off visiting some friends for a bit but promised you’d be back in the studio with me for the next scheduled session.
” I grip the edge of the counter and hate that I’ve been worked into this proverbial corner.
“Then he pulled Kai aside for a whisperfest that didn’t look good from my end. ”
I stare at him, trying to figure out if I’m being played or not. “Ava didn’t call me.” It’s the easiest response I can give as my mind whirls over this information.
“Exactly. She called me. And now I’m here.”
Son of a bitch.
“I’ll get you a room at the hotel in town.” I reach for my phone but Jett’s hand is on my wrist stopping me before I can dial.
“No.” The heat of his body is behind me.
The scent of his cologne surrounds me. I buck my arms back to get him off me, hating the familiarity and missing it simultaneously.
He steps back and when I turn to face him he’s well within my personal space.
“If we’re staying in two different places, people will question if we’re together.
And if they question it, rumors will start and Callum will find out and—”
“You are not staying here.”
“Yes, I am. C’mon. We can make a little music. Maybe a little love when we kiss and make up.”
I laugh, but it holds no amusement. “It isn’t happening, Jett. It’s just like you to assume you rule the roost. Sorry, but it isn’t my house, so I can’t—”
The dispatch on the radio cuts me off. I thought I had turned it down when I walked in but I guess I accidentally turned it up.
Jett looks at the radio and then back to me. “It’s true, huh?” His expression falls as he realizes I’m really in a house with another man. What did he think the pictures on the bookshelf were? Fake? “And he’s a firefighter?”
“Yes.”
“Really? After everything with your dad, you’d take the chance of being abandoned again by a glory-hound prick who needs the rush to boost his ego?”
Does he realize he could very well be talking about himself?
“It’s none of your business.”
He stares at me, and the hurt in his eyes is real. “Why him?” The way he asks it scrapes open the wounds he caused, but it only serves to remind me how deep they are.
“Why him? Because he’s everything you weren’t.” The words are hurtful, but it could very well be the truth. I just hope that it’s enough to get him out of here before Grady comes home because there’s no way I’m going to be able to carry on this charade then.
“Are you happy, Dylan?” His eyes narrow as he studies me for any nuance to say otherwise.
“Deliriously.”
He takes a few steps toward me. “You don’t miss me?”
Yes.
No.
You hurt me.
“No.” I hope my expression doesn’t betray the conviction I use in the word.
“Yes, you do.” He flashes another shy smile that says he isn’t convinced. The one that used to win my heart over in an instant.
“Let me check with the hotel for vacancies. We can work a few days,” I say when every part of me rails against the thought for the same reasons I left Los Angeles in the first place. “Then you can go back with more progress and let everyone know I’ll make the next studio date.”
He nods and his smile lights up his face. “There’s my girl.”
“I’m not your girl.”
“Uh-huh,” he says and chuckles as if he’s not convinced. When he picks up his bag, my shoulders all but sag with relief that I’ve gotten him to leave. But just as I expect him to head to the screen door he walked in through, instead he heads toward my room. “So I can take this room, right?”
“What?” Whiplash. But I guess I shouldn’t expect anything different when it comes to him. “No, Jett. The answer is no.”
“It’s no Ritz, but it’ll do.”
Frustrated with how he keeps ignoring me, I slip in my lie. “That’s my room. You can’t—”
“Deliriously happy?” He throws my own words in my face and lifts one eyebrow as a smile toys with the corners of his lips.
“That’s what I said.”
“Then shouldn’t you be in that room?” Jett points his finger to the master suite.
“You are not staying here.” I grit my teeth and avoid his question.
“Do you have something to hide?”
He thinks this is funny. He knows he’s calling my bluff and is going to see how far I’m going to carry this.
“Honey, I’m home,” Grady calls as he walks in the front door. He’s totally joking, but he doesn’t know how perfect his timing or his words are right now.
“I’m in here,” I say.
You’re lying, Jett mouths.
And the minute Grady turns the corner to the kitchen, I grab his face with both of my hands and press my lips to his.
I can feel the shock register through his body in the tensing of his muscles, but then, as I push my tongue gently between his lips, he reacts.
His hands slide around my waist and pull me against every firm inch of him. His tongue meets mine in a fervid dance of desire, and a groan that’s so sexy I almost forget this isn’t real slips from his throat.
His body startles as shock registers again.
And I know that he knows.
Jett’s here.