Page 33 of Their Wicked Ways

Jett spun on his heel so his back was to Ez. “Oh yeah?”

“Relax, kid,” I teased. “No one is going to fault you for looking. My man is hot.”

Ez dropped his arms with a smirk.

Jett turned back to face us, a nervous smile on his lips. “I’m being weird. Don’t mind me.”

Ez looked around. “Where is everyone?”

“Gone.” Jett hurried over to close the front door. “They had to head to the club for work.”

“Are you okay?” I asked. He didn’t just look flustered; he seemed panicked.

“I’m fine.” He raked a hand through his messy hair.

“Are you sure?” Ez asked, tossing a quick look my way.

“No.” He laughed, but the sound wasn’t humorous. It was the type of laugh you used to cover up the urge to cry or scream.

“What’s going on?” I asked, making sure to keep my tone low and soft. “I know we’re not your first choice for talking shit out, but we’re not monsters.”

“I know.” He dropped his face in his hands. “I know you’re not.” His voice was muffled, but clear enough for us to hear him. “I’m just not good at this.”

“At what?” Ez asked gently.

“Life. Being a person.” He dropped his hands, his face twisted up in what looked like anguish. “I don’t know how to be an adult.”

“What do you mean?” I stepped closer to him.

“I’ve never lived alone.” He swept his arm around the room. “I don’t know how to do any of this.”

“You’ve never lived alone?” Ez asked.

“No.” He let out another of those nearly hysterical laughs. “I lived with my parents, then I moved into the house my parents and in-laws bought for us, but because I was the husband, I wasn’t allowed to learn anything related to running a household. Then I moved in with my aunts, and they had to teach me how to budget and pay bills and buy groceries. Everything. What the hell was I thinking moving into this place?”

“It’s normal to be nervous about being on your own for the first time,” Ez said, taking a half step closer to Jett. “It’s a big deal.”

“It shouldn’t be. Not at my age.”

“You’re twenty-three,” I pointed out. “I know lots of people your age who haven’t moved out yet.”

“But that’s the thing. I did move out. Twice. And I still don’t know how to be a functioning adult. Do you know what I was doing when you texted? I was freaking out because the oven light is burned out. I build houses for a living, but I don’t know how to change the lightbulb in my oven.” He glanced at the kitchen area. “I can’t do this.”

“You can.” Taking a chance, I stepped closer, stopping when we were about two feet apart. “You can do this.”

“I don’t know if I can.” His tone dropped to one of defeat. “I don’t know how to be alone.”

“What do you mean?” Ez asked. Gently, he put one hand on Jett’s shoulder and nudged him toward the couch.

Jett dropped down on it and put his elbows on his knees, leaning over with his head hanging down.

“I’ve never been alone. Not really. I went from sharing a room with three of my brothers to living with my ex to living with my aunts to this. I’ve never spent more than a night in a house alone, and now I’m supposed to do that every night? I’m so pathetic.”

Carefully, I sat on the couch next to him. He didn’t move away or tense. That was progress. “You’re not pathetic.”

“I am.” He sighed. “I almost had a panic attack because of a lightbulb. That’s pathetic.”

“You didn’t almost have a panic attack because of a lightbulb.” Ez sat on Jett’s other side. “You almost had a panic attack because you’re going through this huge change in your life. The bulb was the trigger, but it wasn’t the cause.”

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