Jet: An Enemies-to-Lovers Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 2)

by Connie Lafortune

  After an hour of searching for his name, yes I did go there, I find nothing. Did his family not care or is the case too old for them to give a shit? How can I ever look into his startlingly light-colored eyes again and not see the faces that will forever haunt me after today? I’m angry! So angry that we live in the twenty-first century and shit like this still happens. Now I’m more determined than ever to make this damn concert happen.

  I’m itching to call Willow and Trevor so I can run things by them, but I hate to interrupt their vacation. Besides, I’ve yet to get confirmation from Caleb that it’s a go. Now I know how Jet feels since I’m desperate to get started. But I can’t just sit around and wait for it to happen.

  Grabbing my purse and slipping on my shoes, I stumble to the door when my phone pings. Yes, a text. I’m a little disappointed when I check to see who it’s from. Willow.

  She must have read my mind. Swiping, I open up her text.

  Willow: I hate to bother you on vacation, but I thought maybe we could have a girl’s day out?? I’m missing you and Abby and I’m kinda bored.

  Me: I know how ya feel. I couldn’t wait for this damn vacation and now I’m restless. When do you want to get together?

  Willow: Now?? LOL, if you’re not busy.

  Me: Nah, I was just going for a drive. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.

  Willow: Cool.

  Two heads are better than one, and maybe—just maybe—we can figure out how to heal Jet in the process.

  When I arrive, Willow slides in and buckles up. “Glad you called since I was going stir crazy. Pick your poison. What do you want to do?” I ask.

  “Let’s grab a few drinks and just chat. There’s been something I wanted to talk to you about, but not with everyone around.” Okay, so now she’s piqued my curiosity. Not sure if that’s good or bad.

  She’s quiet, almost nervous since it looks like she’s playing with her keys while waiting for the waitress.

  “I find the best thing is to just get it off your chest. So, what did you want to talk about, Willow?”

  “He likes you. Like a lot. And I know he has a weird way of showing it, but he does.” Okay, who are we talking about here?

  “You need to give me a hint of some kind because I have no idea who we’re talking about.”

  “Jet! He’s crazy about you. I know what you’re thinking, but just hear me out. Remember when we were in elementary school and the boys would constantly pick on us? That’s what he’s doing with you.”

  “Well, we’re not in school anymore and I think you couldn’t be more wrong. He tolerates me, but that’s okay since I’m not interested in getting involved with him or anyone else for that matter.”

  JET

  I’m counting down the days until Lucas and Abby get home. Two more to go. Maybe once we’re all together again, things will fall into place. For now, I work. Hard labor seems to be the only thing that’s getting me through. Both Quinn and Willow have been texting and trying to call but I’ve been avoiding them. Not sure why, but I have a feeling they’re trying to gang up on me. It could be my paranoia, but it’s weird it came out of the blue after I stormed out of Quinn’s the other day.

  The only problem I have when going to work is Amelia. She’s the pretty girl who delivered my burgers, and ever since I promised her concert tickets, well, I guess she thinks we’re best friends. It’s cute and so is she. For now, I just let it go since she’s been keeping my secret. Honestly, that’s epic for someone who’s only seventeen. Most chicks would be gossiping to all their besties that Jet from The Sinful Seven is washing dishes at the Hungry Dog Diner. Right? Of course they would.

  “Hey Mack, I’m taking my break.” He nods in acknowledgement as he helps Harold flip burgers. Dishes are caught up, so best time for me to head out back for fresh air.

  Kicking back, I lean against the building and slide down until my butt is on the little patch of grass out back. Popping the tab on the can of cold soda, I take a huge gulp. I usually don’t indulge in this sugary goodness, but for some reason I needed it today. I almost choke when a shadow brushes by, kicking my boot. “What the fuck!”

  “Dude, chill. I’m sorry but I was trying to go around, and your long legs got in my way.” Amelia, wonderful.

  “Since when do you come in by the back door and not the front?” She’s coming back from a delivery and I don’t like the thought of her being in the back alley.

  “It’s kinda rush hour and there’s no place to park. It was easier this way. Mind if I join you?” She doesn’t give me a chance to answer before she pops a squat next to me. Great.

  “Mind if I ask you a question?” Oh, here we go. I knew it was just a matter of time.

  “You can ask away, but it don’t mean I’ll answer you.”

  “Yeah, I kinda figured that but I’m asking anyway. You have a girlfriend?” Okay, so picture me taking a swig, swallowing, and choking all at the same time. Yep, you got it. By the time I can breathe again, it’s time for me to go back to work while she smacks my back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that to an old man like you. You could have died.”

  “You just don’t know when to quit, do you? I gotta get back.”

  “Hey, before you do I just want to ask something for a friend. Um, say someone writes songs and they’re pretty good, how would they go about getting someone to listen to them?” Asking for a friend? If I had a buck for every time someone said this, I would be a very rich man.

  “I’d tell them to start their own YouTube channel. With a ton of practice and the right following, they could kill it. We did that when we first started out.” I stretch out my hand after standing. Her smile is contagious when she reaches for my hand and I pull her to her feet. I’m a little scared of that starry gaze she’s giving off. Damn, I hope she’s not crushing on me.

  “Dude, get over yourself.” With a chuckle she walks off. Damn, is she a mind reader?

  “Amelia! Orders up! Where the hell ya been?” Mack bellows as she rushes to grab her orders. Stuffing them inside her delivery bag.

  “Sorry, boss. Just popping a squat, but I’m going now.” This kid is gonna be the death of him, but I know by that smirk on his face, he’s taken with this young spitfire.

  After she leaves, I rib the old man. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger. Admit it.”

  He’s quiet for a beat before his eyes meet mine. “Just like you did all those years ago, boy.” What? Is he insinuating that she’s a stray like me? That’s how he refers to all the homeless kids. He refused to mention the word homeless for fear if someone was listening, it would be detrimental to all involved. Damn. Amelia?

  I work the rest of my shift in silence. Just lost in my head after what Mack told me. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Amelia is on the streets. Fuck! Another wake-up call for me to get these damn concerts in the bag.

  “Catch ya tomorrow, boy. Now get the hell outta here and don’t look back. Nothing you can do.” Yeah, he knows it’s eating a hole right through me but there’s something I can do and I’m tired of waiting. “You could let her have my old room. It’s time.”

  He shrugs as he points in my direction. “I offered, and she refused. Too damn independent for her own good, that one. Maybe you could convince her. She might listen to a famous rockstar instead of an old relic like me.”

  “Can’t hurt to try. Is she still here?”

  “Think so. Her shift ends in fifteen, so you might be able to catch her.” He smacks my back when I walk out the door in search of my new co-worker. And, wouldn’t you know she crashes right into me as I round the corner. The obscenities begin immediately as I grab her arms so she doesn’t hit the floor.

  “Dammit that hurt like hell! Now I know what it feels like to have a head-on collision.” Oh, she’s a funny one all right.

  “We need to talk. Come with me.” She doesn’t fight me as I drag her down the hallway and into my old room, but she starts to protest when I close the door beh
ind me.

  QUINN

  Maybe I opened up a can of worms by mentioning to Willow what Jet wants to do, but the vison of all those kids on the street is just too much for me to bear.

  “Truthfully, I don’t know why it took him this long to mention it to you, since he’s been talking about this for years. Did you know that every cent he has, he donates to the shelters? He does it anonymously since he doesn’t want the recognition.”

  “I was under the impression he didn’t have a ton to begin with. Where would he get the money to do that?” Seriously, as far as I know, none of them have held a job other than working the clubs on the weekends.

  “If you could see his apartment, it’s bare bones. He’s not materialistic like so many others, just the bare necessities. Whatever is left over after he pays bills, he donates. I swear he still goes days without eating so he can give to others. Jet is selfless and needs very little to survive. He’s truly amazing.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she has a crush on him and mum’s the word. I’m not telling her I’ve already been to his apartment, because that would just lead to more questions.

  “Maybe I should just shut my mouth, but I trust you so I’m gonna lay it all out. Jet and I hook up now and again. We trust each other and somehow it works. No strings, no commitments. Just friends with benefits.” Wow, hell, I didn’t see that coming. But what do I expect from a bunch of musicians? This is tame compared to what I’ve seen and heard in the past.

  “You won’t get any judgement from me, Willow. Trust is something that can bond a person for life. I say if it works, go for it.”

  “Go for what? Did I miss something?” Our mouths hang open when we both look up to see Jet sliding in the seat across from us. How the hell? “Don’t let me interrupt. Keep on keeping on.” His little smirk makes me believe that he heard the last part of our conversation.

  Kill me now.

  “How the hell did you know we were here?” I can’t help questioning him because I find this very unnerving.

  “Trevor told me you guys were coming here for dinner, so I had to crash your party. Thanks for the invite.” Sarcasm doesn’t look good on him.

  “It’s a girl’s night out, and last time I checked you were not a girl.” Willow winks at Jet and for the life of me, I feel jealous. Jealous that she knows this mercurial man on an intimate level. A man who keeps everyone at arm’s length. I don’t like when the green-eyed monster rears her ugly head. This is so not me. Where is the confident Quinn who existed before I met The Sinful Seven? Scrap that. Met Jet Turner, the sexy bassist who brings me to my knees.

  “Quinn, are you okay? You look a bit pale.” Great, now he’s a freaking comedian!

  “I’m fine, thanks for asking. I thought you were working?” Let’s change the subject back to him and see how he likes it.

  “Working?” Willow’s head spins around so fast, I have nightmares of the Exorcist happening right here and now.

  Jet is none too happy I spilled the beans, but hell if I care. He’s the one who’s here uninvited, so there’s that.

  “I’ve been helping out at the diner, no biggie.” Apparently Willow is privy to this information since she just shrugs it off. Color me stupid with these two. No, I won’t go there.

  “Congrats on finally deciding to put your vision in motion. Quinn mentioned that you’re waiting for the thumbs up to do a benefit concert for the homeless. I’m one-hundred percent onboard and I’m sure the guys will be, too. We’ve known this has been another dream of yours for so long now, so how cool is it going to be when this happens?”

  Just let it be known, if I don’t make it out of here alive it’s because the looks that Jet are giving me are killing me. Truth is, I’d be dead in a heartbeat. Maybe sooner.

  “Yeah, we’re waiting on Caleb to call,” he says. “Speaking of, has he been in touch with you yet?” I’m starting to realize after these few months that his raised eyebrow is his signature move. Much like Elvis had his lip thing.

  “No, not yet. I’m sure it will take time for him to call a meeting together and have a decision made. We just need to be patient.”

  Leaning back so his chair is teetering on only two legs, he quips, “Why don’t you call him? I’m getting sick and tired of waiting.” Ah, come again? Did he just demand me to call? Hell to the fucking no.

  “Forcing Caleb to move any faster than he already is would be a sure-fire way for him to drop this whole idea. I’m not going to do that. Oh, and just an FYI, just because it’s been your vision, I call the shots, not you. Excuse me.” I’m so angry that I need a trip to the ladies room to calm down. Why does he insist on pushing my buttons the way he does? Just when I warm up to him, he does something like this to piss me off.

  I didn’t need to use the restroom, so I just stand in front of the mirror and scrutinize myself. Is it just me, or did I age ten years since dealing with Jet for the last several months?

  Gripping the sink to the point where my knuckles turn white, I just breathe. Desperately trying to figure out why he treats me the way he does. He’s not a man of many words to begin with, but when he interacts with the band, a light shines in his eyes. With me, not so much. I’m sure it comes down to trust and knowing them for so long, but I do have the best of intentions.

  Taking a deep breath, I let go of the sink and my anxiety. With my head held high I walk back into the restaurant. Just to deflate when I see Willow sitting at the table, alone.

  Jet’s gone and I’m not sure if that should make me angry or grateful.

  JET

  It’s only been two days since Quinn called Caleb, but it feels like weeks. I understand that she got in touch with him on a Friday and most labels have the weekends off. But I’m not a very patient man and as much as I’d like to call him, I’ll refrain. Time is not on my side since we’ll be leaving for Connecticut in less than a week. I was hoping we’d have time to figure it all out before travelling for another three months. If we get the green light, it’s going to be so damned hard waiting until we get home. My only consolation is that Quinn and I did have a chance to start scheming and dreaming. For now, I just need to be thankful we had that time to hash it all out. I’ll be the good little boy and do whatever I’m told since Quinn claims she calls all the shots. Once this tour is over, I’ll do whatever I damn well please.

  Lacing up my shoes, I get ready to go for a run. It’s been ages and I feel like I need the exercise. Grabbing my phone, keys, and earbuds, I get ready to leave when my phone vibrates. Any other time, I’d ignore it, but it’s from Willow so I swipe and read the message.

  Willow: Trevor and I are getting rusty, wanna come over and practice or just mess around?

  Messing around sounds amazing, but I’m sure she didn’t mean sexually, since her cousin would be under the same roof. Most likely his mom, Mrs. C would be there, too. So much for going for a run since I don’t want to be all sweaty and sticky when I walk in the door. Hell, tomorrow is another day and I’d be lying if I didn’t say my fingers are begging for a little bit of string action. Old habits die hard, and it’s been days since I picked up my guitar.

  Me: Sounds great. I’ll be there in twenty.

  Willow: Can’t wait!

  Thank goodness we have a set of instruments at Trevor’s house, since our gear is still on the equipment truck far away from here. Come to think of it, I hope they are guarding that damn thing, because there’s a ton of money tied up there. Before leaving, I shoot a text to Carl, our equipment manager.

  Me: Please tell me that our equipment is all safe and sound because I’m seriously thinking of getting on a damn plane to go check.

  Carl: No worries. All the trucks and tour buses are in an old airplane hangar onsite, and guards are there twenty-four seven. Relax, that’s what you pay us for. Enjoy.

  Me: Thanks, appreciate it.

  While driving to Trevor’s I flip on the radio, which is something I haven’t done in ages. I’m freaking when Distraction blares from the spea
kers on station WBCS. Hell yeah, this never gets old. Hearing our songs on the radio is old school but so damn cool I can’t stand it. I kind of want to drive longer just to see if they play more of our songs, but I decide to just pull into his driveway.

  I’m still wearing my shorts and running shoes when I walk in the door. Trevor appears from around the corner and takes one look at me. “Bro, were you going for a run? How long has it been since you’ve pounded the pavement?”

  “Too damn long, and I’m starting to feel like I’m getting thick in the middle.”

  “You’re as sexy as ever, Jet,” Willow says. “Do you want me screaming your name like all of the girls at the concerts?” I think Willow would tell me that even if I was an old man sitting in a rocking chair.

  “You think so, baby?” I pull her in for a hug and plant a wet one on the top of her head.

  “You’re here to jam, not bang my cousin. Now get your asses downstairs and let’s do this. Now, I’m the one who needs the exercise since my arms are hitting me in the face every time I wave.” Fucking Trevor. We’re bent over laughing when I hear a voice that shouldn’t be here.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Willow hurries downstairs as Trevor smacks my arm and follows her.

  Pussy!

  “Quinn, fancy meeting you here.” I’ve no doubt Willow left out the fact that she invited her too, since she knows I would have gone for my run instead.