Chapter 9
Keanna
When I wake up on Monday morning, the scent of Jett’s cologne is in the air, which is weird because I’m in my own bed. I open my eyes and yawn, and then I look out the window in front of me. The sun sure seems a little too bright for six in the morning.
I jolt up in bed, and that’s when I realize I’m not alone.
Jett grins at me. He’s lying on top of the sheets, fully clothed, with a smirk on his face. “Morning.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, as I get out of bed and reach over for my phone and—“Oh shit!” I drop the phone and run to my closet. “I’m late! I’m so late!”
Frantically, I look for an outfit to wear. It’s 9:45 and I’m almost four hours late for work. Why didn’t Mom come get me? Ugh.
Jet appears in my closet doorway, a cocky grin on his face. “You’re not late.”
“Yes, I am!” I say, yanking off my sleep shirt so I can put on a bra. “I’m supposed to be at the front office by 6:30. I can’t believe my alarm didn’t go off.”
“I can,” Jett says. He’s still grinning at me, like he knows something I don’t.
I stop rushing to get dressed and look at him. “What is it?”
“I turned off your alarm so you could sleep in late,” he explains. “It was kind of boring because I’ve been lying next to you forever, waiting for you to wake up.”
“Why didn’t you just wake me up yourself?” I ask. I put on a pair of shorts.
“Because you’ve been working so hard lately, and I wanted you to just enjoy waking up naturally for once.”
“Okay well, I’ll tell your parents it’s your freaking fault I’m late to work.”
“You’re not going into work today,” Jett says. He follows me out of the closet and then takes my hand. “I called in a favor. Krissy from Oakcreek is working in your place today. My parents are totally cool with it,” he says as soon as I start to object. “I told them we need a day off so we can have some time together.”
I can feel some of my resentment starting to melt away. The last several weeks have been hell. The Track is constantly busy and Jett is either out of town, or working with clients. We haven’t had a proper conversation in days.
“We haven’t had any alone time in a while…” I say, smiling up at him.
“No, we haven’t.” He pulls my hand until I step closer to him, and then he kisses my forehead and holds me close. “Let’s spend the day together.”
I lean up on my toes and kiss him. “That sounds like a great idea.”
I can’t exactly say it out loud without sounding like a complaining jerk, but our lives are so different. Jett has motocross. It’s his career. I have nothing but college classes in the fall and a part time job at a dirt bike track. He has a future—I have regular life.
It’s been bothering me a lot lately. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just not good enough for a guy like Jett, whose future is so bright and exciting. Other times I wonder if I should just suck it up and pretend like I am good enough and enjoy the ride of dating a famous motocross racer. Most of the time, I’m just waiting for him to figure it out on his own and then grow to resent me for holding him back.
I shove all my worries away and try to just enjoy this time with Jett. After I finish getting dressed, he drives us to a café on the outskirts of town and we order breakfast among the smell of bacon and coffee in the air.
“So tell me about your last race,” I say while we’re eating. I’d been kind of cold to him yesterday when he got home, so he still hasn’t updated me on anything.
He’s always happy to talk about the races when he’s actually won it. If he loses—and by getting even second place, he considers it a loss—he’d rather talk about anything else in the world.
After breakfast, we drive to the beach and Jett holds my hand while we walk along the sand. It reminds me of when we first started dating, all sweet and innocent. We hit up the shops on the strand and look at artwork on display from local artists. For lunch, we grab tacos from a food truck and eat them on the patio of a nearby hotel, pretending to be tourists instead of residents.
Then we go back down to the beach and enjoy the beautiful summer day. We walk for a long time without talking about much of anything. The only sounds are the waves crashing to shore, the call of a seagull flying overhead, and distant screams and laughter from children playing on the shore.
“It’s nice to relax,” I say after a while.
“Mmhmm,” Jett says. I look over at him and he’s walking with his eyes closed, face tipped up to the sky. “Everything is calm on the beach,” he says. I think he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t.
“Life has been crazy lately,” I say to fill in the gap.
