Page 43 of Kissing Chaos
“You love it.”
She lets out a soft laugh at that, nodding. “True.” As she settles into the living area, she turns on the television and queues up the hockey game from earlier before looking over the back of the couch to me. The smirk on her face is new, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking about. “As much as I’m tryingto get used to those kinds of looks from you, I feel like I need to thank you.”
Confusion settles in as I try to figure out what she means. “Not that I’m aware of,” I say, but it’s phrased more as a question.
“You stood up to my brother for me. No one has ever done that before. So, thank you.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I can feel the color creeping into my face. I’m not used to anyone voicing their gratitude. Usually, it’s just expected for me to do the thing, whatever thatthingis. I don’t like to see my loved ones taken advantage of.
“Someone needed to. Did you guys talk things out?”
She nods. “Well, sort of. I’m planning to go over there on Thursday so we can talk more about my plans to open a bookstore.”
I pick up the tray of now-cooled pizza rolls and join her on the couch, reaching up to snag the blanket she favorites and tossing it over her. The soft giggle as she uncovers her head melts away another dark cloud in my mind.
As she starts the game at the anthems, I slip my arm around her shoulders and settle the blanket over the both of us.
“What’s on your mind, babe?”
Startling, I glance down at her. Those emerald eyes are rimmed with worry. My fingers trail over her arm trying to put both of us at ease. “What do you mean, chaos?”
“You’ve been staring a hole through the TV for the last ten minutes. Seems like something’s got your insides all twisted up.”
Pushing away thoughts of my dad and Maya as best I can, I do a round of box breathing. “Thinking too hard about tough thoughts is all.”
She sits forward, turning her torso to face me and effectively removing herself from my hold. “You know, someone I look up to has been teaching me that we can either talk things through or pretend they don’t exist. Which would you like to do?”
I huff out a chuckle. “You’re really gonna use my own words against me?”
She shrugs, not looking the least bit contrite. “If the shoe fits…”
Slipping my hand into hers, because the lack of touch has my chest hammering again, I stare at the screen. “February is a rough month for me, the last week especially.”
The tightening of her grip on my fingers in silent support urges me to continue.
“My dad died when I was just a kid. He was hit by a car while changing his tire.”
Jett sinks back into me, her arms winding around my waist.
“I was in the car,” I choke out, burying my nose in her hair and breathing in the lavender and eucalyptus that is purely Jett. “I was in the car and witnessed his death, and then five days after the twelve-year anniversary of his passing, the girl I was seeing was walking home from here when she was hit by a drunk driver.”
Jett stays quiet. Whether it’s in silent support or simply that she’s speechless, I don’t know. She just holds tight to me as I get a handle on my emotions.
I’ve tried to justify it over the years. Why he died. Why the car didn’t get so much as a dent, leaving me physically untouched. Why I let Maya convince me that I didn’t need to walk her home that night.
Jett tucks her head below my chin, snuggling into a possessive hold. “Makes that first night at Riley’s make so muchmore sense, why you didn’t want me walking back to Reece’s alone.”
I expel a shaky breath while running my fingers over Jett’s scalp. “I wasn’t in love with Maya—we’d only just started dating—but I let her walk out of here without me. I was exhausted from work, and she swore she’d be fine. If I’d been with her, I might have been able to push her out of the way.”
“There’s nothing to justify, Noah.”
Silence ensues, but it is a comforting silence. A weight is lifted, having her know the darkest parts of my past.
The game is well into the second period when Jett whispers so softly that I would have missed it if she wasn’t lying on me.
“I recognize your pain, but I’m thankful it wasn’t you.”
“I’ve never discussed it with anyone,” I say just as quietly.
