Page 88 of Jett

Chapter 32

CARI

“Thank you, for standing up for me.” As I settle into the SUV, I’m still blown away by what Jett did back there.

“I couldn't let them talk to you like that.”

“I just didn’t expect it. They’re your friends—”

“Some friends.”

Jett's face is tight, and I wonder if he regrets confronting the party hosts. I know he's not too fond of the man, but even so, standing up for me in that crowd can't have been easy.

The journey back is filled with silence, and Brooke—bless her—falls asleep, her tiny body tilting against Jett. He puts a comforting arm around her shoulder, and his hands brush my arm. I jolt as a zap of electricity zings through me. He moves Brooke towards him, so that there’s no chance of him accidentally touching me.

I stare out the window, needing time to reflect because so much happened this evening. The argument with the two sisters has soured the mood, and I wonder if Jett even wants to go ahead with our midnight meetup.

So much has changed.

If anything, it's only highlighted the difference between us.

Those people saw me as the help, and even though Jett defended me, his family would treat me the same. If I meet him at midnight, what am I doing? Walking into more heartache? The whole point of me resigning was to get away from him, from the torture of what I feel for him.

But this is different, my heart says, dismissing my brain.He told you he has feelings for you, too.

It’s not a one-sided crush. I need to see what he has to say at midnight.

We get back and Jett carries a sleeping Brooke to her bedroom. I tell him that I’ll get her into pajamas and tuck her in, and he leaves without a word. Brooke is tired, but she’s such a good little girl that when I gently rouse her she doesn’t complain. She gets up and brushes her teeth with no fuss.

I’ll never go without panties again. I’m so wet down there and it feels uncomfortable. I’m about to hop into the shower because I need to cool down, but before I do that, I decide to go down to the library. Having finished my thriller, I’m in need of something new to read. I still have a few hours before I go to the gazebo.

My nerves are frazzled thinking about what midnight will bring, but reading will help to settle my mind. It used to help when I was with my mom in the hospital, or when I’d keep her company after her chemo sessions. She’d be out like a light, but I would sit by her bedside, crying and falling apart, willing her to get better again and imagining our lives going back to normal. The only reprieve I had from real life was to lose myself in books and stories.

But she didn’t make it, and it broke me.

I tiptoe down to the library, feeling anxious and on edge, already wound up like a coil. I dread to think how I'll feel as the hours pass. I open the door and walk in, instantly feeling calmer. There’s something about books, and a hallowed space just for reading and quiet solitude. This place calms me. I walk around, inhaling the scent of old books. It takes me back to another era—one I never even lived through.

The sections are clearly labelled, and I easily find the old-world literature classics, picking up a copy ofJane EyreandWuthering Heights.

I run my fingers across a bookcase and there’s not a speck of dust to be found. I marvel at how well this house is kept. At the Knight family’s lavish lifestyle, how everything is taken care of. How this family has everything they want, and it’s still not enough.

I doubt Jett reads much—only the financial newspapers, or memoirs and autobiographies of rich businessmen. He prefers to spend his time at the bar.

“You needed to kill the time, too, huh?” His voice rumbles through my body. I turn around to find him closing the door. He walks towards me. Being alone in a room with him again unnerves me, and the quiet grandeur of the library does nothing to still my beating heart.

“Are you up drinking?” I ask. He’s not holding a whiskey glass, which is unusual.

“I haven’t touched a drop. I need to clear my head.”

“What are you doing here?”Thud, thud, thud. My heart beats like a drum as he stands before me. So close that the spicy scent of his aftershave wafts over me, making my nipples harden. I’m such a mess around this man. My body reacts in a way I can’t control.

“I was restless.” He stares down at me, his eyes dark now, in the dimly lit room.

I hold the books to my chest as a shield. “A-Are we still meeting at midnight?”

“You tell me. Are we?”

I frantically note that I haven't showered, and I'm not prepared, mentally or physically, for whatever is going to happen at midnight. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

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