Page 12 of Despite It All
“Wyla, it’s going to be okay,” Winry says, but I can’t form the words for a response.
I hear the back sliding door open and close, and my stomach bottoms out. Don’t throw up, Wyla. For the love of God, don’t throw up.
Owen and Graham walk in first followed by Anna and Jett… I freeze when my eyes meet his. Gah, for five years I’ve been downplaying how hot he was, but now, if it’s even possible, he’s gotten even more attractive with his honey blonde hair that has a slight curl to it, piercing blue eyes, and muscles that you just want to wrap your hands around. And I do mean every muscle. His six foot something towers over my 5’2” stature and suddenly, I feel like I’m Stevie's size.
Jett’s eyes go wide for a moment, then he smiles. “Wyla?”
His voice… It may sound a little stunned, but damn, it sounds so good to hear his voice.
“Hey Jett,” I somehow manage to say back. Relief partly floods me because he remembers me, but the sickening feeling is now in full swing.
Anna looks back and forth between me and Jett, but he doesn't notice because he hasn’t stopped looking at me. “Wait? Do you two know each other?”
I can practically hear my sisters swallow back a response, and frankly, I don’t really know how to answer that without blurting it out. I’d rather not get into everything in front of a crowd.
“Yeah, we met a few years back,” Jett says, keeping his focus on me.
I nearly laugh. Yeah, we met, alright. We “met” five times that night.
I can practically see the wheels turning in Anna’s head. Most of the town knew I had no clue how to find Stevie’s dad. When people were nosey, I’d blow them off and say it didn’t matter. I had Stevie and she was all I needed. No one—and I mean no one—knows his name other than immediate family.
Anna holds her hands in the air and lets out a nervous laugh. “Wait, wait, wait. A few years ago?” She looks back and forth between us then to Wav. When Waverley avoids her glare, she turns back to us again. She looks back and forth a few more times before finally landing on me. Her face pales. “Hold on, exactly how long ago?”
I can feel the lump forming in my throat already.
“Guys,” I choke out. “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
Jett’s still staring at me like he can’t believe I’m standing in front of him. Man, if he only knew how I felt right about now.
Wav places a hand on my shoulder. “You sure?”
“Yeah, please. Just five minutes, and we’ll be back out.”
My sisters nod, and they drag their reluctant husbands with them. Anna hesitates, so I give her a pleading look to please let me handle this. After a few seconds she relents, following behind my sisters.
I shuffle on my feet, waiting for the sound of the sliding door to close. Not entirely sure how to go about this, I fidget with the rings on my fingers as I give myself a mental pep talk.
You can do this.
The sliding door closes, and Jett immediately takes a step forward. His hands land on my arms, and it feels so damn good that I nearly forget what I’m supposed to say.
“I can’t believe you're here, I’ve thou—”
“You have a daughter,” I blurt out.Smooth Wyla, smooth.
Jett pauses for a second as the words process. His hands fall off my side as he takes back that step he took forward. “I… what?”
Panic claws at my chest. Well, the only way is through at this point. “You, um, well… you have a daughter. And you, um, just showed up to her fourth birthday party.”
“I… I don’t…” Jett stammers, as I’m sure his brain is running a mile a minute. My ambush way of delivering the news probably wasn’t the best option, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Jett, I tried to find you… really, I did. I went back to Nashville before she was born and went back to that hotel, back to that bar… I tried, I swear.”
Jett doesn’t miss a beat. “Maybe if you hadn't snuck out in the morning, you would have gotten my number or at least my full name.”
I might deserve that one a little bit, but my defense comes out. “That’s not fair, and you know it. We both agreed on the one-night stand part. You didn’t want my full name or number either. Don’t—”
“I did,” Jett cuts me off.
