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

by Connie Lafortune

  13

  JET

  After she passed out, I buckled her in and drove her home. I made sure to unlock her door and then came back to carry her into her bedroom. Once she was on the bed, I closed all the shades so it was dark as night. I placed a cool cloth over her eyes, went to the fridge and grabbed water and her pills. Now, I’m waiting for her to wake.

  Under different circumstances, I’d be freaking out, but my mom used to have terrible migraines and I took care of her. So, it’s not my first rodeo. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to bring her home. I didn’t want her driving and I’m really fine.

  Quinn’s not my mother.

  I’m confused, pissed, and anxious. I wanted to kill that fucker where he stood and I might have if it hadn’t been for my bandmates. The problem with men like him is they’re as lethal as cancer. They might lay dormant for years and when you least expect it they come back with a fucking vengeance. I’d bet my life that it’s only the calm before the storm.

  She stirs when I take off her shoes. Damn, I wanted her to rest.

  She’s not my mother.

  Pulling off the cloth, she tries opening her eyes. “Hey, leave it on. I’ve got your meds and some water. Can you sit up a little?”

  “Jet, I think s-so.” I grab the pill that I placed on the table and open the water bottle. Her attempt at sitting up is a fail.

  “Here, let me help.” Very gently I slide my hand behind her back, lifting her enough to take a drink of water. Then I place the pill in her hand. “It’s your Imitrex that was on the kitchen counter.” With a shaky hand, she places it in her mouth, then takes a sip of water. Slowly, I rest her head back on the pillow, which I know feels hard as a rock. With a sigh, she falls back to sleep.

  No way am I leaving until she’s capable of being on her own. Migraines are debilitating. It might be days before she feels like herself again.

  She’s not my mother.

  This is the first migraine she’s had since I’ve known her. I’m feeling guilty since I know for a fact that stress can trigger them. I’ve been the number one cause of her stress for quite some time now. That’s got to end right here and now. She doesn’t deserve my wrath when she’s been nothing but nice. Which is the problem. Quinn is everything I’m not. Knowledgeable, authentic, and decisive. I have an eighth-grade education and I’ve been hiding and lying my whole life.

  When her cloth slips from her forehead, I grab it and walk into the bathroom. Running it under the cold water, I squeeze the excess water and then return to the bedroom. A part of me wants to relive the days on Palmer Street while I’m doing this, but I won’t let it. I’m not in Connecticut anymore. I live in New York and I’m a member of The Sinful Seven. I repeat this mantra as I once again place it on her forehead.

  Not my mother.

  There’s a comfortable chair in the corner of the room, so I sit down and pull out my phone. I see a few messages from Lucas and I ignore them. I hate that I’m pissed at myself for doing the right thing. But then another part of me is angry because what if it had been the only opportunity I ever had to kill that motherfucker. After what he’s done, he should be dead. By my hand.

  “Jet—” In three long strides I’m sitting on the edge of Quinn’s bed.

  Not my mother.

  “How ya feeling?” With the cloth still in place, she reaches out to me.

  “A little better. Thirsty.” I reach over and hand her the bottle. I’m not sure if she needs help when she leans on a trembling elbow, spilling some as her cloth falls off.

  “Here, let me help.” Standing up, I slip my arm behind her back and let her lean against me. A few more sips and she’s ready to lie down again. She’s really weak and that bothers me.

  Not my mother!

  Once she’s back on the pillow, I go into the bathroom to grab a dry towel. When I return she’s sleeping again. Dammit. I don’t want her to stay in wet clothes. Should I risk undressing her, or leave her like that?

  Quinn decides for me when she suddenly sits up and vomits all over herself and the bedding. Now I have no choice.

  “Oh no.” When she tries getting out of bed I make a decision.

  “Quinn. Don’t move. Let me carry you into the bathroom.” She’s crying and shaking her head, but it’s the only way I can think of to keep it contained. Gross, but true.

  “Abby—”

  “She can’t carry you. I promise it will be okay.” I don’t waste my breath explaining I’ve done this before.

  Not my mother. . .

  We make it into the bathroom without incident. Breathing through my mouth is something I learned a long time ago. Can’t smell a damn thing like that. I kneel with her still in my arms and place her inside the tub. Now she’s fighting me. “I can undress myself, please. Wait outside.”

  “Not happening, Quinn. You can struggle with your clothes if that’s what you want, but you’re not steady on your feet so you won’t be bathing alone.” A moan like a wounded animal leaves her throat, and I know it’s because she’s so independent and doesn’t want to ask for help.

  Too bad, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.

  QUINN

  I can’t believe this is happening right now. If I had just paid attention to my body, I would have realized a migraine was just under the surface waiting to strike. My medication is usually on me at all times, but I’d forgotten it on the kitchen counter, exactly where Jet found it. Dammit, I’m angry at myself for being so stupid. Now, he’s standing over me like I’m a sick child. His determination just slays me.

  “Jet, please. I can do it.” When he folds his arms over his chest and shakes his head, I give in. I’m not strong enough to fight him so I unbutton my blouse with trembling fingers. He’s right, I’m so weak and I’m not sure if I could stand if my life depended on it.

  One by one, I peel the clothes from my body. Thankfully there wasn’t anything in my stomach. I’m sitting in the tub when he takes my blouse and rinses it under the faucet in cold water. I want to die. This man who’s been a thorn in my side for, well, forever, is cleaning my puke. After he’s rinsed my skirt, he glances over his shoulder. “Bra and panties are next, Quinn. Then I can throw everything in the washing machine if you have one.” Oh kill me now.

  “It’s a piggyback kind in the kitchen closet, but you can leave it until tomorrow.” Another shake of his head and a finger twirl to let me know he’s waiting. Now more than ever I wish Lucas had taken him home. But, if he did, I might still be sitting in my car in the parking lot. Or worse, dead on the side of the road. I shudder at the thought.

  “Now, Quinn. You’re shivering and we need to get you inside of a hot shower. Pronto.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pull down my panties, shift my leg, and then lean forward to unhook my bra. I suck in a breath when he reaches out his hand. So, this very humiliated girl gives him what he’s asking for. Not funny.

  My arms cover my chest and I lean back against the cold tub. It feels good but then it doesn’t. I’m so fucked, I know I am. He’s going to stalk in here and take control and I hate feeling so weak and out of control. Everyone knows I detest depending on anyone.

  My heart’s hammering inside my chest when I hear him enter a few minutes later. I’m so afraid to open my eyes as I hear the rustling of clothes. No way, I can’t see this man naked. I just can’t. Sexy rockstars are my downfall, just ask my ex.

  I jump when his breath skitters across my face. Just a hint of whiskey lingers, making me wonder if his lips taste the same. I’m so screwed. Imagine what would happen if I wasn’t feeling so out of sorts.

  “Put your arms around my neck, boss. Shh, don’t cry. I promise this is our little secret. No one needs to know.” I do what he asks, and the next thing I know his naked chest is pressed to mine. How is it possible that I’m hot and cold at the same time?

  Jet’s so gentle as he holds me up while trying to set the water. I’d help but I’m really not capable at this time. So, I let him do his thing and a few seconds
later, he turns us around so the water is striking him first. Testing it to make sure it’s not too hot. Jet Turner really is a good guy after all.

  Once he adjusts the temp, we spin around and now I’m under the gentle pulse of the showerhead. The water is perfect and so is he! I haven’t opened my eyes, for fear of what I’ll find staring back at me. If it weren’t for him still wearing his boxer briefs, we’d be skin on skin. It’s evident that he finds me attractive, even in my condition. Under any other circumstances, I’d slip my hand inside those briefs, but this is not the time.

  “Hold on tight, baby. I’m going to wash you up now.” And he does, every square inch of my body. I should have protested when his fingers glided between my legs, but it felt too damn good and I had no words. Just gasps and moans as I almost orgasmed over his fingertips. Maybe I did, I don’t remember.

  The water is turned off way too soon, in my opinion. My arms are wrapped around his waist and my eyes have been opened for a few minutes. How can I not look at his gorgeous body since it might be the last time?

  I try to look away when his fingertips trace the contours of my face and he tilts my head to meet his steely gaze. His blues to my brown. Wow, just wow. I could drown in those stormy eyes. “Feeling better?” I nod because I still can’t find my voice. If someone had told me this morning that I’d be in the shower with Jet today, I’d have pinched myself to see if it were a dream. And I’m not sick enough to forget he called me baby. Yeah, I got it bad and that’s so fucking dangerous.

  For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, and then he reaches over and grabs one of my fluffy white towels, wraps it around me, and carries me bridal-style into the bedroom. I’m confused when I notice the bed has been stripped.

  “I was going to make the bed but didn’t know where you kept your extra sheets.” I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Tears threaten to fall but I won’t let them. While I was in the tub, he did all of this and even thought to put clean clothes on the chair for me, too.

  He rushes over and drops to his knees when my tears spill free. I can’t contain them any longer as they tumble down my flushed cheeks. I need to ask. I just do. “Why?” He looks confused. “Why did you insist on helping me today?” I sweep my arm across the room and the towel slips, exposing my breasts to hungry eyes. It lasts a split second, until he hangs his head.

  “My mom used to get terrible migraines, and when she did I would take care of her.” A snippet of his past and I cling to it tightly. This is the first time in all these months that he’s opened up to me. The last thing I want is to scare him away with too many questions. “She died of a brain tumor when she was thirty-two.” I can’t even right now. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. It was a lifetime ago. Sheets, where are the sheets?”

  Emotions are swirling around inside of me. I need to buy some time to reign them in since he clearly doesn’t want any sympathy. “Sheets are in the hall closet on the top shelf.”

  14

  JET

  Without realizing it, I wrap my arms around her and she does the same to me. We cling to one another and I find comfort in her touch. It’s odd, but it feels good at the same time. It’s something I’ve only ever felt with one other person, my mom.

  “The only person who knows about my mother is Lucas.”

  “You’re secret is safe with me. I’d never betray your trust, just like I know you’re not the kind of guy who would gloat about what happened to me here today.” She’s right. I might be a dick, but I’d never intentionally humiliate someone just for a laugh. Not my style.

  “Let’s get you dressed and back in bed. How’s the headache?” Trying to pretend she doesn’t have an effect on me is impossible. My cock’s straining through the wet fabric of my briefs as I peel the towel from her damp skin. She’s dressing herself with just a little guidance from me when she stands up to put on her yoga pants.

  “It’s still there but in the background. The shower was a lifesaver, thank you.” I’d love to respond with, “My pleasure,” since I was able to touch her in places I only dreamed about. This girl is drop-dead gorgeous and so out of my league it isn’t funny. I’m desperate to keep busy since I want to strip her down and worship every inch of her body. Fuck, I haven’t craved anyone like this in so damn long.

  I take my time switching over the clothes then grab what I need. As I begin making the bed, I watch her struggle to stand. She’s so damn stubborn and independent that she hates someone doing something for her. “I swear if you try walking over here I’m going to spank you.” Her mouth forms a circle and she sputters something unintelligible. Might be for the best. I’d love nothing more than to mark her tight ass with my hand.

  After I’ve finished, I pick her up and carry her to the bed. Placing her gently on the nice clean sheets. It’s all worth it when a satisfied groan leaves her lips. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll sleep the rest of the night. You can take my car and go home, we can swap out tomorrow.”

  “Nope, not going anywhere. Can I get you some tea, crackers, or something to eat?” I’m asking her and it’s not my house so I haven’t a fucking clue what’s in her kitchen.

  “Crackers sound good, but I have no tea. Everything is in the pantry. Grab whatever you want. I’m sure you’re starving.” I hadn’t thought about it but I really am.

  “Coming right up. Not only am I a phenomenal dishwasher, but I can whip up a mean snack. Just wait and see.” There, a tiny smile proves she’s starting to feel better. I can’t help wondering if we’ll be back to butting heads tomorrow.

  Her kitchen is every cook’s wet dream. State-of-the-art everything. This townhouse doesn’t look too old so that might be why. I thought my apartment was nice but after seeing this, I’m jealous. No lie, but for the amount of time I spend there it serves its purpose. Especially now that we’ve been on tour.

  I grab a fancy tray and cut up cheese and salami, and add some crackers and fruit from a bowl on the table. The salami is for me, Quinn won’t be able to digest something so greasy. After grabbing a few bottles of water, I walk back to the bedroom and find her fast asleep. I knew she was fighting it, but she needs to rest. I sit down on my favorite chair and nibble at the snacks I brought. It’s just enough to sate my hunger, for food, but not for her.

  I’m mesmerized by her beauty, and everything about her. Willow was correct in her assumption that I had a crush on Quinn from the very first day. It was one of the reasons I treated her with disdain. I knew she’d be the type of woman I’d fall hard and fast over, but I refuse to go there. I have absolutely nothing to offer her.

  Sometimes loving someone just isn’t enough.

  A part of me wants to run, the other wants to stay close by her side. Every damn day and twice on Sundays. Something my mom used to say. I never understood why, but it stuck. She was my world and I would have gladly died in her place if I could have. She was a light too bright to be snuffed out so soon. I, on the other hand, only had my music. Even to this day, that’s all I’ll ever have.

  I’m still stunned that I confided in Quinn about my mother’s death. Now the three of us know and I kinda like the fact that someone else knows. It’s almost as if I don’t have to carry the weight of the world anymore. Stupid, I know, since Quinn never met my mom, but if she did, I’m sure they would have loved each other. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to Quinn. She has a radiance about her, too.

  Placing the tray on the table, I stride over to the bed and sit on the edge. She’s sleeping so soundly, I hate to disturb her. I can’t stop wondering how she’d feel if she found me gone when she woke. Relieved, most likely. Yeah, I sense she’s attracted to me even though she works closely with other bands. Which is all the more reason to leave, but I’ve never been good at doing the right thing. So I curl up behind her and pull her close. Her back to my front. We’re spooning and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

  Just for tonight, I don’t need to sleep on the floor. I’m going to sleep beside a woman who accepts m
e for who I am. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Even if she doesn’t know my truth, I have a feeling she wouldn’t judge me or treat me any differently. It’s going to be a long time before I tell anyone about my past, if ever. I just pray that Joseph P. Lawless doesn’t take that choice away from me. Otherwise, I might be on the run just like I was over thirteen years ago.

  Quinn

  I’m content when I wake up to a warm body wrapped around me. It’s been so long that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be all tangled up with someone first thing in the morning. Knowing it’s Jet just makes it all the better. I thought he’d take me up on my offer and cut and run, but he stayed. Maybe Willow was right. He does like me after all. Which makes me giddy. Forget what I said earlier about being involved with another rockstar. Clearly they’re not all the same. And I know Jet’s demons don’t even compare to anyone else’s.

  As much as I’d love to stay here longer, my bladder is protesting. The moment I try to escape, his arms grow tighter. “Mm, stay. I’m not ready to get up yet.”

  Did he forget where he is? He must have because he wouldn’t want to snuggle with me in the morning. Morning? No, no, no, I have a meeting at eight. “Jet, I need to go, it’s—”

  “It’s five in the morning. You have plenty of time so just stay here for a few more minutes. Please.” I want to ask, “What did you do with Jet?”

  “Okay, but only for a little longer. I’m not sure how steady I’ll be after yesterday.” His eyelids flutter open and I’m greeted with the windows to his soul. Bright, amused, and lustful. I’d like to stay but I got to go. “I need to go to the little girl’s room.” A big sigh and then he opens his arms wide.

  “Hurry back.” Um, if I did then I have a feeling we’d both be naked and I’d be riding his morning wood. Yep, how the hell do I unfeel that pressing against my back? I can’t and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to!