Page 4 of Jett in Jeopardy

Chapter Two

Brody

“Whereexactlydoyouthink you’re going?” I asked, moving to block the bar entrance. I stood, arms folded over my chest, feet spread hip-width apart, glaring down at the kid propping up a barely conscious Jett at his side.

The guy’s eyes widened, and even in the low light, I could see his face pale. “I was just… I’m going to… I was going to take him home… his home.”

Unease burned in my gut at the sight of Jett leaning heavily against this guy, whom I barely recognized. Jett’s eyes were closed, his head rolling back, slender limbs dangling like overcooked noodles.

Christ, was he even alive? How in the hell had he got so drunk so fast? I’d only served him one drink. I’d seen him dancing with Sam earlier. It’s possible he could have been feeding Jett drinks all night, and now that Jett was barely coherent, Sam was nowhere to be seen. I’d always thought that guy was a prick.

“We work together,” the kid offered under the weight of my glare. If I stared down at him long enough, he’d probably confess to everything he’d ever done wrong in his life. Though, given his clean-cut, almost wholesome appearance, it would have probably been a short and boring list. “Or we did. I know where he lives.”

“I’ll take him,” I said, reaching for Jett’s limp form, and the guy actually turned away as if he were trying to keep Jett out of reach.

“I don’t mind. I don’t really know you, and he’s a friend.”

Jett had been drinking at my bar for almost four years. I knew who his friends were.

“Look kid, I’m sure you mean well, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you take him out of here like that. Leave him with me, and I’ll have one of his roommates pick him up.” That was something of a bluff. It was well past last call, probably pushing three a.m., and I doubted either of the guys he lived with would even be awake. Still, there was no way in hell I was letting him leave with Jett.

The guy opened his mouth as if he were going to argue some more, then wisely shut up. He glared at me but twisted so Jett staggered into my arms.

I curved my arm around his shoulder, and his slender frame pressed to my side. Warmth lit inside me, licking out into my limbs like invisible flames. Shit, having him close like this was a mistake.

His head sagged forward, so his face fell against my chest. I frowned down at him. In all the years he’d been coming here, I’d never seen himthisdrunk.

“You okay?” I asked.

He didn’t try to look up or open his eyes. Instead, he smiled blearily. “You smell good.”

I rolled my eyes. He was fine. “See you around, kid,” I said to the guy still hovering by the door, then hauled Jett away and deeper into the bar.

Most of the night’s crowd had cleared out after I announced last call. Cilla, who helped manage The Dunes for me and whom I’d be lost without, was behind the bar cleaning up, and Damien, who helped serve on busy nights, was wiping down the tables and putting the chairs up before he mopped up for the night. Miles and Doug, who worked in the kitchen, had left hours ago.

“I’m going to let him sleep it off on my couch,” I said to Cilla. “You okay while I get him settled?”

“We’re fine to close on our own,” Cilla said, then nodded at Jett.

“He really let loose tonight.”

I nodded, annoyed with myself. I’d noticed earlier that something about him seemed off. When he didn’t think anyone was looking, that coy, flirty facade fell away, and he just looked lost. I should have kept a better eye on him.

“I’d try to get a hold of one of his roommates, but it’s too late now,” I told her.

She glanced at the door where I’d stopped the guy from carrying Jett outside. He was gone now, along with everyone else, and Damien was locking up.

“He’s lucky you were watching out for him.”

Somehow, I managed to stop myself from snorting out loud. If she only knew how often I watched out for Jett. Enough to know that he was trouble, that was for sure.

Knowing that the bar was in good hands, I tucked Jett tighter into my side and half dragged and half carried him through the bar’s rear door. Outside, the damp frigid wind sweeping off the ocean at the bottom of The Square slapped at my face and bare arms, seeping through my clothes as though I wasn’t wearing anything at all.

Jett pressed closer to me and shivered. I absently pulled him in tighter, which made it slightly easier to maneuver him up the narrow metal staircase to my apartment above the bar.

“I don’t feel good,” Jett mumbled.

“I know,” I told him, hauling him across the patio while I dug my keys out of my pocket. “I’ll get you horizontal in a second, then you can sleep it o—”

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