“Thanks,” I tell him, then I rush ahead to open the back door for Jett.
“You’re the best,” Jett tells me as he crutches on by me and into the house. He leans forward and gives me a kiss, then hobbles into the kitchen. I can hear Brooke crying from another room, which is probably where Bayleigh is.
Upstairs, Jett settles onto his futon, with snacks and drinks next to him and a video game loaded into the Xbox.
“I think you’re all set,” I say, surveying the scene I’ve put together.
Jett leans his head back on the futon and gives me a sultry look. “I’m missing one girlfriend,” he says, patting his lap. “Come here.”
We make out a little bit, but I cut it short because tomorrow is Monday and my first college classes start. I scoot off his lap and sit on the futon next to him, keeping my arm wrapped around his shoulder.
“I love you, but I need to go.”
He frowns, jutting out his bottom lip. “But I’ve heard that kissing makes bones heal faster.”
“I’d love to see the scientific evidence on that,” I say.
He grins and slides a hand up my leg, his fingers sliding under the hem of my shorts. “Let’s do our own research.”
My stomach flutters. I pull him closer and kiss him, parting my lips and letting his tongue do some exploring. His touch sends a fire up my belly, and before I know it, I’m allowing myself to be pulled onto his lap once again, my body grinding against his, his hands feeling up my shirt. I grab his hair and lightly tug his head back, breaking our kiss.
“I have to go,” I say, grinning at him.
“I know,” he says. He grabs my butt and rocks me against him. “You’re free to leave whenever you want.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s after ten at night and I have school at nine in the morning. “I love you,” I say just before I climb off him and try to gain my composure.
“Love you more,” he says back, giving me a wink.
Downstairs, Bayleigh stops me before I leave.
“What’s up?” I say, trying to look cool and not like I just made out with her son.
She shifts Brooke onto her hip and gives me a sad smile. “Just wanted to give you a little warning about Jett. He’s just like his dad,” she says, rolling her eyes in this sarcastic way. “When he gets hurt, he’s going to be pissed that he can’t ride, and it might feel like he’s mad at you. But he’s not, okay?”
My brows pull together. “He seemed okay just now.”
“That’s good,” she says. “But six weeks is a long time. If he starts becoming an asshole, just know it’s not you that he’s mad at. He’s mad at himself, okay? Don’t be afraid to put him in his place if he starts being an ass.”
I smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” she says, patting my arm. “Have a good night. And good luck at school tomorrow!”
