Page 22 of Jet

“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

Ican’t believe thisis 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

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