Believe in Forever (Jett Series Book 3)

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Believe in Forever (Jett Series Book 3) Page 8

by Amy Sparling


  I shrug. “I was thinking about the term sex party.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You are such a child.”

  I break my own rule and kiss her again. “Too bad you’re stuck with me.”

  The party goes on for a while and Becca and Mom are the center of attention after everyone’s been introduced to Keanna.

  Finally, Mom silences the crowd by tapping a knife on her wine glass that’s filled with sparkling water.

  “I think it’s time to get to what everyone has been waiting for,” she says, throwing a smile toward her best friend.

  She takes a silver handled spatula and knife and hands it to Park.

  “You sure you trust me to do this?” he asks Becca. He does look a little awkward holding the cake cutting tools. He looks out at the crowd. “I’m sure you guys remember how unskilled I am at cutting cakes from our wedding day.”

  There’s some laughter and then Becca agrees to help him.

  Everyone watches excitedly as they cut into the cake. I stand behind Keanna, my hands on her hips while we watch. They make a second slice and then Park shoves the spatula under the piece of cake.

  Everyone goes silent while the cake slides up and out, revealing the blue inside.

  “It’s a boy!” my dad says as everyone starts clapping.

  Beneath my hands, Keanna is shaking from how hard she’s clapping. Becca’s hands go to her mouth and she starts crying and even Park looks like he might shed a tear.

  Mom hugs them both and then everyone takes turns congratulating them on their new baby boy.

  “Looks like you’re getting a brother,” I whisper into Keanna’s ear.

  She looks up and back at me, a grin on her face. “I wonder what they’ll name him.”

  “I think Jett is a great name,” I say, smirking as I scratch my neck.

  She grins and leans into me, then twists and wraps her arms around my waist.

  “I’m really happy for them,” she says softly, letting her cheek rest against my chest. Her eyes close and I run my hand down her hair, letting her take a private moment to reflect on the big news.

  #

  After the party, I play the role of Perfect Boyfriend and help them clean up. Mom, Becca, and Keanna say they can handle it, but us men know better. So Dad and Park and I help get everything thrown out or wrapped up and put away. There’s enough leftover finger foods to snack on for a couple of days and I’m pretty psyched about that. No one loves those mini tortilla rollups as much as I do.

  When Mom and Dad leave and Becca and Park retire to their room, I let my guard down and grab Keanna’s hand while she walks to the fridge. I spin her around then pull her close to me, kissing her soft lips with the intensity that I’ve been wanting all night.

  She moans as I flick my tongue across hers, and her hands claw at me, trying to bring me closer.

  “Want to take this somewhere more private?” I whisper.

  She gives me this perfect sex vixen grin and then hurries us to her bedroom, closing the door behind us.

  This time she attacks me, pressing my back against her bedroom door while her hand slides up to my neck and holds me close.

  While she kisses me, I crush my hips into hers then slide my hands over her ass and lift her in the air. She wraps her legs around me and we stay like this, making out until I’m about to explode at the seams.

  I walk her to her bed then gently set her down. She doesn’t untangle her legs from around me, so I crawl up her bed until her head is on her pillow and I’m hovering over her.

  “Jett?” she asks, her voice soft and tentative. Her bottom lip trembles and I lean on my elbows, brushing the hair from her eyes.

  “Yes?”

  She averts her gaze, drops her legs to the bed. “We’ve been together a long time and still haven’t had sex.”

  “Okay?” I say slowly. “I am aware of this.”

  She heaves a sigh and reaches up, touching my face. “I guess I feel like now it’s becoming a big deal because we haven’t done it yet.”

  I smile. “You’re overthinking this.”

  She shakes her head. “Am I? I mean, I want it and you want it but we just . . . haven’t.”

  “We will. When the time is right.” I roll over to my side and wrap her in my arms. “Of course, the time is always right as far as I’m concerned,” I say with a smile in my voice.

  She chuckles. “We are not doing it tonight.”

  “Why not?”

  She looks up at me and presses her lips together. “Because then you’d forever get to say that the sex party ended up being a real sex party.”

  I can’t help myself, I burst out laughing and have to cover my mouth with my fist.

  She rolls over and crawls on top of me. her hair forming a wall around us. “Not. Funny.” I try to force my mouth to stop smiling and the goofy attempt only makes her smile bigger.

  “Soon,” she says, kissing me quickly.

  “Soon,” I agree.

  Then I wrap her in my arms and make out until we fall asleep.

  Chapter 17

  I go to the races with a plan. I’m wearing cute shorts (that were actually sold as shorts and not just cut offs I made myself) over black tights and I wear one of Jett’s hoodies with his last name and racing number on the back. Only the racers get these things, so it’s pretty obvious if I’m wearing it that I’m the girlfriend.

  And yes, this wardrobe choice is totally intentional.

  My hair is on point and my makeup is flawless. I had to wake up at three in the morning, but it’ll be worth it. I also spent a fortune on expensive shine-free, foundation and powder so I’m hoping all the walking around outside won’t make me look like a swamp monster.

  When it’s time for him to race, he kisses me goodbye and I tell him good luck and once again he goes down to the starting line alone and once again, I sit on the bleachers watching all the other girlfriends supporting their men from the starting line. Bayleigh isn’t here today because she wasn’t feeling well, so it’s just me here on the bleachers. I didn’t realize how lonely it would be sitting here all alone, and now I’m wishing I would have asked Maya to come with me.

  Jett wins his first two races and we spend the intermission together, eating nachos and watching a DVD on his laptop that we set up on a folding table under the canopy. It’s a little windy today, so Jett and his dad zipped on the walls to the canopy to keep the chill out.

  It also has the added benefit of keeping out the lookie-loos. Now that Jett and I can hang out inside the canvas tent between races, no girls come wandering up wanting to talk to him. No middle-aged women stare at him flirtatiously as they walk by. Nope, we’re all alone.

  Maybe this makes me a bad person, but I love it. I’m secure in our relationship, but I don’t think any girl is a fan of seeing multiple women a day asking their boyfriend to take a picture with them.

  After intermission, Jett’s dad disappears somewhere with an old racing friend of his. Now that Jace isn’t here to help Jett get ready, I hand him his gloves and goggles and helmet. I move the bike stand out of the way when Jett gets on his bike.

  All that’s left is for me to go down to the starting line with him. But I can’t get the nerve to ask. I fidget and kick at the dirt while Jett gets ready. He revs the bike engine and stretches his head to the left and right.

  Another racer drives by, his girlfriend riding on the back of his bike. She’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt. “She must be really cold,” I say.

  Jett nods. “She’s gonna end up with pneumonia.”

  I want to say: I wonder where she’s going? Or why is she on the back of his bike?

  Of course, I don’t. I’m too chicken. But if I did, he’d have to answer and then maybe he’d tell me why he doesn’t want me on the starting line with him.

  He’s not embarrassed of me, is he?

  After kissing him and wishing him good luck, I make the walk over to the bleachers to watch him race. It’s pretty packed today so I
climb up only two rows and choose a spot without many people around.

  I stare at the finish line jump while I wait for the race to start, because if I look over at the starting line, I’ll see the other girlfriends and I’ll get pissed.

  “Jett Adams? I love him.”

  The voice came from somewhere to my right, so I glance over. A girl about my age nods to me. “Where’d you get that hoodie? Are they selling them at the Team Loco booth?”

  I try not to look smug. “No, actually I got it from Jett.”

  “Seriously?” Both she and the girl next to her look impressed. “How?”

  I don’t know why this makes me nervous, but I tell her the truth. “Because I’m his girlfriend.”

  She laughs. Laughs. “Oh my God, you totally had me going for a minute. So, you’re like his sister or something?”

  I lift an eyebrow. “I’m his girlfriend. It’s not a joke.”

  The girls look at each other and then back to me. “Honey, I’m sorry to break it to you but you’re not his girlfriend.” Before I can speak, she adds, “I mean, you might think you are . . . you could even be the flavor of the week, but—” She sucks in air through her teeth like she’s genuinely sorry for what she’s about to tell me. Meanwhile, my blood is boiling even in the cold air. “Real girlfriends hang out down there,” she says, pointing toward the starting line.

  Suddenly, I’m feeling vilified and also like fifty birds just crapped on my head.

  I shrug and keep my face neutral. These girls will not get a reaction out of me. “I’m not really feeling well so I didn’t want to walk all the way back up here after the race started.” To finish the lie, I give them a polite smile. “Oh look, the races are starting!”

  They seem totally uninterested with me after the gate drops, and they cheer for a lot of riders, including Jett. When he flies over the finish line in first place, I hop off the bleachers and book it back to our truck, squeezing my hands into fists in an effort to calm down. I should really just woman up and ask him why he won’t let me go down to the starting line with him.

  There’s one race left of the day, so there’s still time to secure my rightful place at his side. I just need the metaphorical balls to ask him.

  Jett’s already back at the truck when I get there, and so is Jace. His dad is beaming with the third win of the day, and Jett’s in a great mood as well.

  He gives me that sexy grin when I approach. His arms open and I jump into them, wrapping him in a bear hug. “I’m proud of you babe, you did awesome.”

  He nods and kisses me. With the cooler air, he’s not as sweaty after a race. “One more win and I’ll have kicked this day’s ass.”

  “Hey-hey! My man!”

  I release my boyfriend as a group of Team Loco guys walk up and loudly congratulate Jett on his win. They stand outside of our walled canopy so there’s no getting rid of them for a while. Jett introduces me to the guys as his girlfriend and I kind of wish those girls from the bleachers were here to witness it.

  Jace offers me a hot chocolate while the guys are still talking and I spend some time talking with him while I wait to get my boyfriend back. He really is a cool dad and he seems to like having me around.

  And then, just like always—like freaking clockwork—a girl walks up all pink-cheeked and grinning from ear to ear. She asks Jett to take a picture with her. After she leaves, a few more girls do the same thing, but they’re all about twelve years old so it doesn’t bother me much.

  Jace and I talk about Christmas and I give him advice on what to get his wife besides the comfortable pajamas she asked for. The Team Loco guys finally say their goodbyes and wish him luck on his last race of the day. As soon as they’re out of earshot, I go over to Jett and take his hand.

  “If we get home in time, do you think we could get Mexican food for dinner?” I ask.

  His eyes go wide. “Oh hell yes, that would be so good. Way better than concession stand nachos.”

  “Dude, don’t knock the nachos,” I say, pretend punching him. “Those things are the sole reason I wake up at the butt-crack of dawn and come to the races with you.

  “Oh, that hurts, Key.” Jett grips his heart and pretends to be in tremendous pain.

  “Hi there!” a soft voice says from a few feet away.

  Another, more high-pitched voice says, “That was a nice win, Jett.”

  Jett gives me this sad smile and we both turn to face the three gorgeous women in their twenties who are approaching us. One of them, an Indian woman with long perfect hair, winks and waves at Jace, who clears his throat and then walks back into the canopy.

  “We’re huge fans,” one of them says. I’m not really paying attention anymore. I walk over to the tailgate of Jace’s truck and pull myself up to sit on it while Jett does his thing with his adoring fans.

  They gush and smile and tell him how great he is and he takes it all in stride. Then, of course, the cell phones come out and one by one, Jett takes their phones and holds it out for a selfie.

  One girl throws her hand around his shoulder. It’s annoying, yeah, but I know where his heart belongs.

  Just before he snaps the final photo, he glances over and gives me a wink. And this might be the first time in the history of the world that a guy has managed to melt someone’s heart while being embraced by three other girls.

  Chapter 18

  The morning after race day, I lie awake in bed, still plagued by the bad feeling about Keanna. Yesterday was weird. On the surface, it was a great day because I won all my races and did a spectacular job representing Team Loco. Keanna and I didn’t fight, or argue, or have anything wrong happen . . . so why does it feel like she’s upset with me?

  I fell asleep worrying about this after talking with her on the phone all night. She didn’t seem mad at me, but things felt off and I’m not sure why. I guess I hoped that when I woke up today, I’d feel better.

  Well, I don’t.

  It’s Sunday and The Track is closed. Tomorrow is the start of the last week of school before Christmas break so it’ll be a slow week and then we’ll have the pre-Christmas lock-in and it’ll be busy as hell.

  My homeschooling is going okay. It’s only been a week but so far all of my online teachers enjoyed my (well—Keanna’s) introductory essay. So far I’ve just had one easy assignment per day for each class.

  Easy peasy.

  The hard part is dealing with this concern over Keanna. How can you fix a problem with your girlfriend when you’re not even sure if there is a problem? Is it all in my head?

  Maybe she’s worried about my birthday and Christmas coming up because I know she doesn’t want to get me anything on the list I made for my mom. I wish I could convince her that I don’t need or want anything as long as she’s by my side. She’s all I need and no amount of fancy gifts could ever replace her.

  In an effort to make things feel normal for us again, I call her to ask her on a date. Living next door and working with each other is a great way to fall into a boring routine of a relationship and I don’t want that to happen to us. My parents always make time for date nights because it’s important, and I’m going to do the same thing.

  She sounds sleepy when she answers the phone. I glance at the clock. It’s eleven in the morning.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  She chuckles and then yawns. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to ask you on a date tonight. Dinner and a movie?”

  “That sounds awesome,” she says, her voice perking up. I can hear her smile through her words. “That new superhero movie is out and we haven’t seen it yet.”

  “Perfect. I was thinking of going to The Spot for dinner. It’s this really good seafood place and a couple of days ago you said you wanted coconut shrimp so I thought it’d be great.”

  “Yum,” she says. It sounds like she’s still in bed, maybe stretching out her arms. I really wish I was in that bed with her. “But, Jett?” she asks.

  My chest constricts. “Yes?”<
br />
  “Can we go out for lunch instead of dinner?”

  “But dinner is more of a romantic time for a date.”

  She laughs. “Babe! I don’t want to wait until later. I want to see you now.”

  I grin. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

  #

  We opt to see the movie first since we’re both not that hungry yet. I hold open doors and keep my arm around her, doing everything I can think of to be romantic. I need her to know that things between us are perfect.

  She may be smiling on the outside but something feels wrong ever since the races yesterday. I need things to get better.

  The armrests in the theater lift up, so Keanna snuggles against my chest while we watch the movie. I love the feeling of her leaning on me, like she can count on me. Like I make her safe.

  After the movie, we head to The Spot, a kitschy restaurant, the kind with tons of crap all over the walls and big fake fish hanging from the ceiling. The décor may be annoying, but their food is good.

  We order fried pickles for an appetizer and Keanna gets her coconut shrimp, which puts a genuine smile on her face.

  “This is the best coconut shrimp in the world,” Keanna says, holding up the tail of the piece she just ate. “I am in love.”

  I nod and reach for one of my fried shrimp. “This place is really good. They only use locally caught seafood as well, so it’s not that frozen shit.”

  My phone buzzes so many times it makes both of us look toward my pocket. I pull it out just enough to see the screen. “Social media alerts,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  This usually happens when a magazine or website posts a new article about me. Suddenly, I’ll get fifty billion comment and post alerts from fans talking to me or about me. I slide the phone back in my pocket and reach for another fried pickle. These things are pretty good.

  Keanna makes this big dramatic sigh. “My boyfriend is so popular,” she says, grinning. “I feel like I should become a movie star or something so you can get a taste of what it’s like to date someone so famous.”

 

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