Believe in Forever (Jett Series Book 3)

by Amy Sparling

  I’m not sure I want to tell her for fear of sounding like some kind of perv. “Well . . . we . . .” I make these God-awful gestures with my hands, but it doesn’t help explain anything. “It was a first for me, uh—physically speaking.”

  She gives me exactly the kind of crazy look I deserve. “Huh?”

  I sigh. “No condoms. That was . . . intense.”

  Her confusion turns to desire. “Oh yeah?” she leans forward on her hands, pressing her boobs together between her arms. “You liked that?”

  I nod eagerly. “Oh yeah. Way more than I should have.”

  “Good,” she says, grinning so hard her eyes crinkle. “I like knowing I could give you something no one else has.”

  “Oh, you have. You definitely have.”

  Even her neck blushes with the way I look at her. It makes me want to go for round two. Instead, I check my phone, which has now blown up with notifications from my newest picture post.

  “Wanna see?” I ask her, waving my phone.

  “Hell yes,” she says, snatching it from my grasp. She falls back on her bed and holds the phone so we can both see.

  OHEMGEE, HE STILL HAS A GIRLFRIEND

  Wait, is that the same girl or what?

  I’m going to cry myself to sleep again. Dammit, I hate everything my life is shit.

  “Wow, I feel bad for that girl,” Keanna says after reading the third comment. “Maybe you should reply to her and say her life isn’t shit.

  I shake my head. “I’ve been advised against that by a few of my Team Loco racing buddies. Apparently interacting with the hyperactive fans is a way to get a stalker. Or, even worse, if you talk to them and then don’t keep replying they might threaten suicide and then you have to get the cops involved.”

  I run a hand through my hair, remembering the story one of the guys told me during my first Team Loco race. He’s had to call the police on three different internet girls who had obsessively written him and said they’d kill themselves if he didn’t reply. Fearing for their safety, he kept talking to them and it all got really crazy. One of the girls even found out where he lived and broke into his house. I shudder at the memory. I do not want that to happen to me.

  “Wow.” Keanna’s lips form a small O. “That’s some scary stuff. I say we make you ugly and gross so no one likes you.”

  I cross my arms. “I don’t like that idea.”

  She laughs and hands my phone back to me. “Fine, stay sexy. I like you better that way anyhow.” She takes her sweet time crawling out of bed, giving me a view of her ass in those tight leggings. “I guess I should get to work now,” she says, slipping into her closet.

  “Fine,” I say, sinking back in her bed. “I’ll be waiting right here for you to get back.”

  #

  By Friday, I can’t concentrate on helping Dad train our five-year-old clients. Sure, I’m dressed appropriately, I’m standing out on the track in the sun, and I’m even helping kids start their bikes. My body and brain are here at work—but my mind is elsewhere.

  Yep, I am lost in a vortex of daydreaming about a beautiful girl with dark brown hair and even darker eyes. Her soft skin, the way she giggles when I shower her with kisses. I am totally and completely consumed by Keanna Park.

  It royally sucks that I’m stuck at work.

  Somehow, I manage to fake like I’m actually paying attention all day and when my shift is almost over, D’andre shows up at The Track, but he’s not in his riding hear.

  “Hey man,” he says, fist-bumping me. “What do you got planned after this?”

  I shrug. The answer is Keanna, obviously, but I’m a guy and I have to pretend like I’m not totally lost to my friends.

  “Cool, so you wanna hit up the mall or something?” He takes out his wallet and flips through some twenty dollar bills. “I have two hundred and seven dollars and need to find a Christmas present for Maya.”

  Damn. I need to get Keanna’s present, too, and the longer I wait, the more hectic and horrifically busy the mall will be. I really should go now, but sacrificing a few hours away from my gorgeous girlfriend is going to suck.

  “Yeah, sounds good,” I say, choosing the logical thing over what my heart wants to do. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot in a minute.”

  I head inside and clock out, then call Keanna and tell her the plan.

  “That works,” she says, not even sounding disappointed. “I’m actually kinda busy so take your time.”

  “Cool,” I say, even though I don’t believe it. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  “I always miss you,” she says, and then she kisses the phone. “Love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  At the mall, I find about five thousand things I know Keanna would love. I don’t buy them all because that would make me a crazy person, plus I’ve seen half the stuff my mom got her already and I’m not sure Keanna’s bedroom is big enough to house it all.

  I get her favorite body lotion from Victoria’s Secret, and then throw in a gift card just because.

  D’andre goes a little overboard in the same store. He gets Maya three bras that apparently she has already picked out and hinted for. I think it’s a little weird getting a girl a bra, but whatever.

  I get a few smaller things throughout the store, mostly just stuff that makes me think of her, like a new phone case that’s solid pink glitter. But I’m still missing the main gift. The big, awesome, present that will make her mouth drop and her eyes water.

  The kind of gift that says I’m the best boyfriend on earth.

  I’m about to give up hope on finding such a perfect gift, but then we stop to get some fish tacos and a shiny display case around the corner catches my eye.

  While waiting for our food, I walk over and gaze at the beautiful items beneath the glass. And I know. As sure as I’ve known anything, that this is the perfect gift for Keanna.

  Chapter 21

  It’s extra windy today, as evidenced by the creaking and whipping sound on the studio’s windows. On the third floor, I almost feel sea sick when I look outside and see all of the trees swaying like crazy in the breeze. Of course, the house is sturdy so I’m not really moving. Maybe I’ve just been breathing in this clear sealant too long.

  I open the studio door to let it vent some fresh air into Becca’s small art room.

  My canvas of Jett’s photo looks amazing; like some kind of shabby chic artwork you’d find in a high end shop.

  I lightly touch the corner of the canvas, checking to see if the clear coat is dry yet. It feels like it, so I stand back and admire my work again. I’m not sure how I’ll wrap it; covered in wrapping paper, or just presented with a pretty ribbon bow on the corner.

  “Wow,” Becca says, suddenly appearing in the doorway. I hadn’t even heard her walk up the creaky stairs, probably because of the wind outside. “That looks amazing.”

  I’ve been keeping this project a secret from everyone, including my mom.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, watching carefully for any signs that she’s just saying that to be nice.

  “Absolutely. I love what you did with this—was it transfer paper?”

  I nod. “It’s Jett’s birthday present . . . Do you think he’ll like it?”

  She steps forward and lightly touches the side of the canvas. “Oh yes. He’ll love it. This picture shows his dedication and hard work.”

  My chest tightens. Now that the project is over, I officially have his birthday present. Now I just hope he likes it as much as I do.

  While Becca points out all the things she likes about the canvas, my brain starts stressing over what to get him for Christmas.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Becca asks, her brows pulling in at the center.

  I toss up my hands. “I still need a Christmas present for him. I can’t think of anything to get.”

  “Hmm,” she says, putting a finger to her lips.

  “I need something extra nice. Something worth it.” My feet begin to pace the small roo
m.

  “It’s not the monetary value of the gift, Keanna. It’s about the meaning of the gift. Think of something that will be special to him—even if it’s cheap.”

  I heave a heavy sigh. “I’m not even concerned with the cost of it. I have money. What I don’t have is ideas.”

  Becca follows me down to the living room, giving me advice but no real answers for gift ideas. “Try to think of something special to your relationship. Maybe an inside joke or a special memory?”

  Her phone starts ringing from the kitchen so she squeezes my shoulder before leaving. “You’ll figure it out.”

  Right. Sure, I will.

  There’s only a few days until Christmas and if I want to get him a gift, I’ll need to do it soon. My phone buzzes just as I’m about to call Maya.

  Jett: Shopping with D’andre is weird.

  Me: lol. What are ya’ll shopping for?

  Jett: Can’t tell you. It’s a secret.

  Me: Uh huh, sure. How much longer will you be?

  Jett: At least an hour, maybe more.

  Me: Cool, because I have some shopping to do with Maya.

  Jett: I TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT ANYTHING

  Me: Who says I’m shopping for you? :p

  #

  I’m so glad Maya agreed to go shopping with me. Since she already knew that our boyfriends were at the mall, she suggests going to an outdoor mall a little further away, that way we won’t run into them.

  I haven’t been to this place yet and it’s pretty awesome. There’s a ton of clothing stores that I’d love to spend hours pursuing, but we have a goal. Christmas presents for the boys.

  Maya holds up a men’s sweater, frowning and then putting it back. “So, I have to admit I kind of freaked when I saw the Facebook drama about Jett being single again.”

  I snort. “Why?”

  “Because I was like, no way. No way would they break up and she not tell me!” Maya laughs. “Then I felt like an idiot for believing it, of only for a short while. Ya know? God, I hate the media.”

  I run my hand across a rack of men’s clothing. None of this would be a good match for Jett, but it is kind of the style D’andre likes so I’m stuck here for the time being. “I’m so over this media and fame crap.”

  “D’andre said you’ve been handling it like a pro. Apparently you didn’t even get mad when that breakup rumor hit.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “How did he know about t that?”

  “Jett told him.”

  “Hmm.” I didn’t realize Jett talked about that kind of thing to his friends. Was I supposed to get pissed? Go on some kind of online rampage? It’s not like that would have helped anything. People online are going to say whatever the hell they want, and if it pisses you off, then they’ll only be happier.

  “Okay, you look upset,” she says as we leave one store and walk into another. “What’s bothering you?”

  I shrug and try to focus on all of the things in this store. “I’m not really so easy going about all of this crap. I actually hate Jett’s popularity.”

  Her eyes widen. “You hide it well, girl.”

  “I know. I have to. I’m not about to be the girl who whines and complains every time I get jealous. That would only drive him away.”

  “True, but damn.” Maya shakes her head. “I don’t know if I could do it. I like D’andre because he’s safe. He thinks I’m the best girl he could ever get so I feel secure, ya know?”

  I laugh. “Probably don’t tell him that.”

  She gives me an evil grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  “When it comes to security, I’m okay I guess. I mean, I know he loves me and I love him. But it’s still not cool seeing all these girls swooning over him.” My lip curls in disgust. “They touch him every chance they get. Little arm pats, or hand touching. Ugh. It takes everything I have not to go all Hulk Smash on those bitches.”

  She grids her fish into her hand. “If you need backup, let me know.”

  We laugh and leave another clothing store. The food court is up ahead, an all outdoors kiosk style place. At the corner is a massive store that’s probably the biggest place in this whole shopping center. I’ve never heard of it before, but it says it’s an outdoors paradise.

  “What’s this place?” I say, stopping to gaze into the massive windows. There’s all kinds of fake rocks and waterfalls and trees decorating the shop. I see a pair of skis and tents and fake dogs in the window display.

  “Some kind of outdoor place,” Maya says. “My dad shops here a lot for his fishing gear.”

  My lips slide to the side of my mouth. It’s an interesting place, for sure. Maybe there will be something in there to spark an idea for Jett’s present. I turn to Maya. “Can we go in?”

  “Girl you know I’m too feminine to care about anything in that place.” She glances down at her four inch heels and then grins. “But I’ll suffer through it for you because I’m an awesome friend.”

  I reach for the door handle, which is a reclaimed tree branch and pull it open. “Good, because my women’s intuition is telling me this might be the perfect place to find my dream gift.”

  Chapter 22

  Keanna gives me this look that apologizes for what Becca is about to do. All I know is that I’ve just walked into their house and Becca yelled from somewhere out of sight that we have to wait in the kitchen until further notice.

  I wrap my arms around Keanna and kiss her hello. “How was your day?”

  “Very productive,” she says, squeezing me tight. When she pulls away, her eyes flit to the oven. “I have officially gotten you the best Christmas present ever.”

  “Wrong,” I say, shaking my head. “I got you the best present ever, so I guess yours is second best, but not the best.”

  She shakes her head and even her expression is stone cold confident. “You’re wrong. I’m right. Get over it.”

  The oven timer dings and she rushes over, grabbing two oven mitts off the counter and taking out a glass dish that smells like Mexican heaven.

  “What’s this?” I say, walking over.

  “Enchiladas.” She sets down the dish and reaches for some plates. “You hungry?”

  “Hell yeah,” I say, taking out some forks from the silverware drawer. “This smells amazing.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Okay, confession time, Jett. If you’re going to be with me for the foreseeable future—”

  “Try forever,” I say, holding up a finger.

  “For forever,” she says, grabbing a spatula and cutting the enchiladas apart. “So here’s the confession—I’m not a good cook but I’m an okay preparer.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  She shrugs. “I made these with store bought tortillas, pre-shredded cheese, and canned sauce. I know a perfect girlfriend would have like secret family recipes and stuff, but I don’t have anything except the recipes on the back of the box.”

  I take her hand and pull her across the tiled floor until our toes touch. I tilt her chin up to peer into her eyes. “You worry way too much my dear. You could make a bowl of cereal and I’d be forever grateful.”

  She makes this sad smile and then turns to grab a bag of tortilla chips from the pantry. “Becca makes all kinds of dinners from scratch. I don’t know how she does it.”

  “She’s also like twice your age babe. We have time to learn all that stuff. You don’t need to stress about it now.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she says, looking at the dish of enchiladas. “I guess because I’m out of school already, I feel like I need to be more grown up all the time.”

  “These are supposed to be the best years of our lives,” I say. “We can be adults later.”

  Becca rushes into the kitchen, her face flushed. “Okay, I’m ready! Come on in,” she says, waving for us to follow just before she disappears into the hallway. Keanna and I exchange a glance and then we find her in the new nursery room.

  “What do you think?” Becca says, t
wirling around with her arms open. She’s wearing a long black skirt and it flows with her, swooshing around her ankles when she stops.

  I gaze around the room. It used to be a junk room but lately she’s been transforming it into a nursery. The walls are pale green with little woodlands creatures painted along the walls. There’s a crib and dresser and an old rocking horse given to her by her dad. But the grand masterpiece of the room is the tree.

  Becca had a vision for it and hired someone to help her see it through. I remember hearing Keanna mention it offhand, but damn, this is amazing. The entire corner of the room is now a fake tree. The kind with a huge old trunk, hallowed out at the bottom to make a secret playroom. The fake branches extend up to the ceiling and run along for several feet, fake tree leaves dropping down.

  “Your baby is going to have such a great childhood,” I say, walking over to the tree’s opening and peering inside. There’s a little light hanging from the ceiling in here and pillows and a bookshelf filled with baby books.

  “I’m so excited,” Keanna says, gushing over all of the pieces of the room. “We still have so much to do but this is great!”

  “I know, right?” Becca says.

  “Wait, you have more to do?” I ask. “What more could you possibly do?”

  They both look at each other like I’m just a clueless bum. “Oh honey,” Keanna says, shaking her head. “You’re so sweet and innocent.”

  “Babies come with a lot of stuff,” Becca says. “I mean, look at our closet. There’s not even any clothes yet!”

  “You guys are weird,” I say, just as the alarm on my phone goes off. I check it and my face falls. “Oh, shit. I can’t believe I forgot.”

  Keanna looks confused for a split second and then recognition dawns on her face. “Your Skype interview.”

  “Yeah. Shit.”

  In just fifteen minutes, I’m supposed to be having a Skype interview with some motocross magazine online. They arranged it a few weeks ago, but I totally forgot. Apparently I’ll be talking to the host and they’ll ask me questions from fans. It’s part of their social media marketing stuff.