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

by Connie Lafortune

  I feel his eyes on my back as I slowly make my way to the bathroom. I’m feeling better, just a bit unsteady. I do my business and when I bend over to brush my teeth, I feel his warmth against my back. Okay, why is he in here with me?

  “Not everyone has extra toothbrushes hanging around so I’m just going to put a little on my finger. No biggie.” Okay, I admit, I like the fact he’s checking up on me. It’s nice and refreshing. Opening the top drawer, I grab a pack and hand it to him.

  “Thanks. Is this a hint that you have a lot of overnight guests?” I almost choke on my toothpaste.

  “No. When they’re on sale, I stock up. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Touché! How are you feeling?” Without thinking, I cup his cheek. I don’t pull away when I realize how intimate this feels, it would be too obvious. I do love the feel of his five o’clock shadow. So soft, you wouldn’t think.

  “Better. Today, I’ll remember to take my meds with me. I have a meeting at eight and then the band has a press conference, remember?” This feels surreal. That’s he’s in my house and we’re talking about the band.

  “I remember. I’ll need you to drop me off to grab my car, if you’re up to it.” He looks hopeful and this is huge for me.

  “Absolutely, I’ll make us some coffee. Take your time.” This is where we would kiss if we were dating, but we’re not. Does anyone use the word “dating” anymore? Nah, maybe exclusive, hooking up or whatever.

  I’m just pouring the coffee into two huge mugs when he joins me. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him drink coffee. Not like Lucas who’s addicted to the stuff. “I’m not sure how you take it, if at all.” Oh, that smirk on his face could be interpreted as devious and dark.

  “I don’t drink it too often, but when I do it’s black. Thanks, hits the spot.” I join him at the island and we sip in silence. How do you thank someone for coming to your rescue? I shudder to think what would have happened if he didn’t.

  “Thanks a bunch for doing everything you did yesterday. You went above and beyond and I’m forever grateful that you insisted on staying. You could have easily walked away.”

  “I’d never walk away from someone who needs me. Well, maybe one person, but that’s another story for a different day. You’re good people, Quinn. I gave you a lot of shit and I’m sorry, but being on the street has taught me a few things. Who to trust and who not to. You’ve earned my trust and then some.” Well, last time was a kissing moment and this feels like a hug moment. Do they go hand in hand? They sure could, and if it did we wouldn’t leave this house. I feel his magnetism down to the tips of my toes.

  I need to clear my throat since I don’t trust my voice. In less than twenty-four hours, we went from enemies to friends. This is one of those moments that will be forever etched in my soul. Weakly, I manage to say, “Thanks, I hope you know I’d do the same for you.”

  Staring into the darkness of his coffee, he nods. “Appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

  This is getting intense so I need to go. “Grab some breakfast, I’m going to get ready.” I practically run into the bathroom. My skin’s flushed at the thought that he’s seen me naked. And his wet briefs left nothing to the imagination. God, that man is addictive.

  I take my sweet-ass time in the shower and I swear I can still feel his fingers sliding through my slick folds. Kneading my breasts while his hot breath scorches my skin. I do believe I did come on his talented fingers last night. Sweet Jesus. How can I go to work with him every day and not fantasize about him? Once the water becomes tepid, I step out and towel off. I need to get a grip, otherwise I won’t be able to get any work done today.

  I’m floored when I step out and he’s folding the laundry he did yesterday. I could get used to this very easily. “We need to get our stories straight before you drop me off,” he says. “I hate lying to everyone but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I know, and everything I’ve come up with sounds wrong. I’m not opposed to telling them the truth. As long as we skip the part about the puking and you sleeping with me. We could tell them you slept on the sofa in case I needed you.”

  “Hey, I’m down for anything. We’ll tell them you had a migraine, I drove you home, and I stayed the night with you. On the couch. Perfect. Okay, you almost ready? It’s seven and you have a drive ahead of you.”

  “Let me grab my briefcase and keys and then we’ll get going.” Jet’s already waiting outside when I lock up. He’s leaning on the car door with his face lifted towards the sky.

  Silent and moody.

  When I press the lock, he slips inside and it’s back to business as usual.

  15

  JET

  Something inside of me snapped in place after Quinn dropped me off. I have no explanation for the sudden shift, other than spending time taking care of her. It’s the reason I went straight home to shower and change instead of meeting everyone at Trevor’s for breakfast. I hate to blow them off, but I needed to gather my thoughts and figure this one out. Is it possible I’m starting to care about her, or is everything that’s happening related to my mom? Damned if I know, but I promised myself a long time ago I’d never get seriously involved with a woman after what’s happened in my past.

  I can’t comprehend how this woman can be my friend and foe at the same time. We’re like two rams butting heads when we’re doing band business, and yet when we’re alone, there’s an attraction that’s indescribable. Part of it is physical, there’s no denying that, because let’s face it, she’s beyond beautiful. It’s the other connection that’s confusing the shit out of me. Maybe it’s because she believes in me, in us as a band, that I find so damn appealing. I don’t know, and the longer I think about it the more confused I become. Maybe I’m just analyzing it way too much.

  It doesn’t help that Lucas has been blowing up my phone with tons of messages about yesterday. Not about what went down with Quinn, he has no clue. He’s worried about me running into that piece of shit I met the other day! He’s afraid if I’m left alone, I’ll go after him. I’m not that stupid, especially now that I have so much at stake. No use texting him back since I’ll be seeing him in a few hours for the stupid press conference. I’d have to admit that this is the worst thing about being a musician. I get that my life is supposed to be an open book, hence the reason Lucas created that mock interview about me for Quinn. The fans were none the wiser and that’s exactly what I wanted. It was a win for both Quinn and me.

  Now we can put those damn interviews behind us and move on since The Sinful Seven was featured in this month’s Music Report, with said interviews. They were thrilled they had an exclusive and we can tick off another thing that was on our bucket list. I’m loving the fact that over the last few months we’ve been able to do just that. It feels great and it’s only the beginning.

  Since I wasted too much time already, I decide to go for a drive before meeting everyone at the press conference. I mentioned to Mack I’d be late getting to work, and he told me to take the day off. Not sure about that but we’ll see how things go after the press conference.

  With an hour to kill, I take the Palisades Parkway, kick on cruise control and enjoy the scenic drive. I have a lot of fond memories on this road since it’s the route Mack took me on when he first taught me how to drive. And the same route where I almost killed the both of us when I didn’t use the brakes rounding a curve. I can’t help chuckling when I think about the look on his face once I got the car under control. I swear he peed his pants. I almost shit mine but he didn’t yell at me. In fact, he thanked me for not killing him since he had no clue how I pulled out of it. Looking back, I think I had an angel sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear, “It’s not your time. You can do it.” Yeah, I feel her presence with me ever since I left the asshole in Connecticut. My mom’s been my guardian angel through it all. Every step of the way. It’s not like a warm hug and a soft kiss on my cheek, but it’s as comforting as it can be
until we meet again. Love you, Mom.

  Before I get too sentimental, I turn the car around and head back into the city. I’ll only have minutes to spare if the traffic is light and I don’t want my sexy PR agent getting her panties in a bunch if I’m late. Not going to lie, thinking of her panties in a bunch or in a heap on the floor makes my cock throb. Yeah, I saw her fucking naked and it took every ounce of willpower I possess not to touch her the way I wanted. She was sick, but I’m only human and my cock didn’t know any better. Quinn is perfection and I’m just the opposite. I need to stay away before my darkness rubs off on her.

  I’m relieved to see Lucas’s car when I pull into the parking lot for the conference. It’s not that I need someone to hold my hand, but there’s strength in numbers. Especially since I hate the media with a passion. It wouldn’t be so bad if they told the truth, but I know how they love twisting everything around to sell a story. I’ve seen it so many times that I lost count. One of the reasons I want to stay under the radar. The second you grab their attention they swoop in like vultures and rip you apart.

  Lucas raps on the window before I come to a complete stop. Great way to get hit by a car. “You good?”

  I slide out and slam the door behind me. “Yeah, no worries. I told you I’m not going to do something stupid.”

  “I’d like to think you won’t but I can’t imagine what was going through your mind when he called you out. Just knowing his fucking MO made me want to clock the fucker. Abby had to hold me back and she doesn’t know the half of it.”

  “And let’s keep it that way, too, Lucas. I know she’s your woman and everything but it doesn’t give you the right to tell someone else’s story.”

  “Bro, I wouldn’t do that and you know it.” Yeah, I do, but I needed to throw it out there. I just bump his shoulder as we all walk inside. Oh joy, we’re here.

  Filing into that room is daunting since all eyes are on us. I’m not stupid. I hear some of them snickering and whispering as I pass by. Oh gee, I wonder why? I’d much rather be playing on stage in front of a thousand adoring fans than under the media’s scrutiny. They’ve all been warned ahead of time: no pictures before and during the conference. I know their fingers are itching to get a few in and I’m surprised they’re actually listening.

  We all take a seat, and by the time Quinn walks into the room twenty minutes later I’m ready to walk out the fucking door.

  QUINN

  I’m hyperventilating after Caleb handed me the list he compiled with all of the bands who have agreed to do the benefit concert for the homeless. I’m humbled that so many would come forward and give their time for such a worthy cause. Some are big-name bands that have been around for years. One of them being Rebel Riot, which is the reason I can’t catch my breath. My ex-husband’s band. It’s suspicious that they would bother with something of this nature, unless he found out that I’m The Sinful Seven’s PR agent. Which he very well could have since it’s public knowledge. Hell, all anyone needs to do is pop my name in a search engine and it would be linked with theirs.

  “You’re white as a ghost, is everything all right?” Caleb would have to point that out. Now all eyes are on me and I need to cover my tracks.

  “Couldn’t be better. I’m just overwhelmed that so many bands are kind enough to help us out. Then again, I knew that the American Organization of Musicians would pull through. They always do.”

  “Absolutely, and they also know that if the time ever came we would reciprocate. It’s how this community comes together. When someone has a call to action, they answer that call. Now, let’s get ready for the press conference, shall we?”

  Folding up the list he gave me, I tuck it into my briefcase. I’m sure the band will be ecstatic when they see it, especially Jet. I won’t begrudge them their reactions either, it is a very good thing. I’ll just need to leave my feelings at the door and get through that night as best I can. Thankfully it’s going to be one of the last concerts for the event. Ending the tour in LA will give us plenty of time to get home and for me to recoup. If luck is on my side, I won’t have too much interaction with Zander Stone.

  I paint a smile on as I walk into the conference room. The band is already sitting in wait of what’s to come and by the look on Jet’s face, he’s not happy. Well, it’s part of the job so he needs to take the bad with the good. Since there’s only one seat available and it’s next to him, I take it. The press has been warned, no pictures before the conference begins, and it looks like they’re adhering to the venue’s policy. Good. Leaning over, I say, “Everyone ready? We’re about to start.”

  One by one they acknowledge me, except Jet. Okay, so is he still acting like we don’t get along? I don’t know, but now’s not the place to get into it. As soon as the wall clock strikes ten, the reporters’ hands go up and their cameras flash.

  The first person I choose, a reporter with WMBC, asks, “Jet, I was there yesterday when there was a confrontation between you and a man in the crowd. Care to explain?” Damn, is this the topic everyone is going to focus on?

  “No confrontation, just a case of mistaken identity. Next question.” I’m stunned, so proud that he kept a level head and squashed the question.

  “Is it true that Jet had the idea to start the benefit concerts after the scheduled tour?” We agreed last week that I would take all the PR questions.

  “The Sinful Seven is a team effort, and when there’s a disparity they always go with majority rules. Next question?”

  The press conference lasts an hour and other than the very first question, all goes smoothly. All of these band members are professionals and I couldn’t be prouder of them. They deserve a celebration and then I can go over the list of bands that are on board. So far, twenty signed up and that’s amazing.

  “Let’s go celebrate,” I say with a smile. “I have something I want to share with all of you.” Jet seems to be in a better mood, joking around with Lucas just like they used to do. Makes me happy that whatever differences they had, they were able to work them out. “You guys can pick the place since this is all about you. We need to let our hair down before we leave for the tour day after tomorrow.”

  They eventually agree on the Hungry Dog Diner. It was Trevor’s idea and once again Jet looks uncomfortable. Crap! I quickly try and recover the situation. “I’m sorry to be a Debbie Downer, but I’m not feeling a greasy burger. I’m in the mood for Italian, anyone else?” Abby’s like a little kid and soon Willow joins the crazy train. Before you know it, Lucas likes the idea. So, Al Forno it is.

  Since we all came separately, we decide to meet each other there. Jet lingers longer than the others. Only the two of us remain in the parking lot when he saunters over like a tiger stalks his prey and pins me against the car door. “This is the second day in a row that you’ve saved me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like me.”

  He would be absolutely correct in his thinking. “I’m just helping out a friend, that’s all. And for my own selfish reasons.” The way he’s staring at my lips is making my heart palpitate. I’d love to fist his shirt, pull him close, and crush my lips with his.

  He’s a breath away when he responds, “What selfish reasons, Quinn?” I lose all train of thought when he captures my response and his lips possess mine.

  “We should get going,” I whisper against his lips because his kisses tease and tantalize, making me weak and vulnerable.

  He groans and I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “Going to dinner is the last thing I want to do, but I’ll meet you there.”

  Lust

  “The Lust for comfort murders the passions of the soul.”

  Kahlil Gibran

  16

  JET

  Making small talk tonight while Quinn sits across from me is absolutely insane! Especially when she keeps touching her lips. Yeah, they look a bit bruised because I kissed the hell out of her before coming here. She still feels me on her lips, and I bet she can taste me, too. My cock has be
en hard since I left her this morning. No easy feat to hide since I’ve been busy all day. I’d rather be eating her out than sitting in this damn restaurant with a raging hard-on.

  Once we finish eating and the waitress has cleared off the table, Quin reaches in her bag and pulls out a sheet of paper. “Okay, so what I have in my hand here is the reason we’re celebrating. Caleb gave this to me when we had our meeting before the conference. It’s a list of all the bands who’ve signed up for the benefit. You should all be very proud of yourselves, there are some big names on here. I’ll pass it around.”

  Willow’s reading the names out loud and I barely hear a word she’s saying, I’m too busy watching Quinn biting her bottom lip. She only does that when something’s really bothering her, so I can’t wait to get my hands on that list. She was fine until she pulled it out of her bag. She senses me staring, so she musters up a reassuring smile. Fake, but I’ll give her an A for trying.

  Everyone’s excited by the time I get my hand on the damn thing, and when I scan the page, I’m disappointed nothing pops at me. Yeah, there are big names here, like Rebel Riot, Wicked Immortal, and Unbroken to name a few, but nothing that she should be upset about. Unless she’s worked with a few of these bands and didn’t get along with them. Now that’s a thought. I’ll need to do some investigating and see what I can come up with. My very own private detective shit.

  Folding it up, I reach across the table to hand it to her. When her fingers brush against mine, I’m instantly hard. Yeah, she’s going to be the death of me because after tasting her, I want more. How much I’m willing to sacrifice is to be determined, but I’ll have her underneath me before we leave. And that’s in less than thirty-six hours. I’m not making any commitments, but we have four months left to this tour. I’ll need to shake things up a bit. My days of sharing a room with Trevor are officially over.