“Let’s go!” He is far too loud for a place this fancy, and my cheeks keep getting pinker. “Let’sfucking go!Damn right that’s what I’m gonna do, Baby!”
I shake my head with a quiet laugh. “And then you’ll be satisfied? One and done?” Iask, testing him.
He shakes his head, “How many kids does Rod Stewart have?”
My eyes grow huge, and he does a dark chuckle. “Seven?! Jett, no!”
He looks over his shoulder and back at me, serious as a heart attack. “How about … Daddy,yes?”
“Okay, but that was with, like, three or fourdifferentwives. Your plan involves me being wife number one of several, you know that, right?”
His eyes grow darker than the mood-lit bistro we’re sitting in, “No, it fuckingdoesn’t.”
My core tightens, and Iwant to keep arguing my point, the fact that my parents are the exception and not the rule. Jett knows that, and Ihave a lot of evidence Icould argue, but again, public place, and Jett’s arguments equal three ring circus. And this is a ludicrous argument to be having with my brand new boyfriend, anyway, so Idrop it. Ihave years to talk him down from seven to maybe three; Idon’t need to rush it. Even the thought ofthatmakes me feel like I’m floating on air, though. Him being so adamant about me being the one for him turns me on and makes my head tingle in ways Icould never have imagined a few weeks ago.
The server arrives, bringing us every wine in the restaurant to try; Jett and Iare half drunk by the end of the tasting, and when the food arrives, Ithink the anxiety is gone enough to finally do this. He raises his wine glass, and Itap mine to his.
“Thank you for being here tonight, Baby. Looking into your eyes while Isang, there’s no better feeling. Except maybe when you come, the way you squeeze around Keane is just—”
“Jett! Iknow you have magic inside you. The way you sense things, the way you charm people. Iwas so disoriented during your set, it was literallyotherworldly.So, Ihave to ask, did you maybe like … put a love spell on me while you sang earlier?”
Jett opens his giant mouth and pours most of the wine back in one go, looking incredibly amused, before setting his glass down.
“Fun perk of dating a serious actress, Inever know when you’re fuckin’ joking. What if Isaid Iattempt a love spell every time Ising for you and Ialways have?”
How true that is hits me, Ijust wish I'd let those spellsworkon me before, like when he crooned for me at the ball. Igasp at another memory where we were at least half drunk. “On the beach in Key Largo last year? Everyone else had gone to bed, it was just you and me and a beach bonfire and your acoustic, oh shit!” Ithought he was just glassy-eyed from all the rum.
“Uh, yeah, Baby, wasn’t that obvious? AnnaBella nearly ripped my head off after that trip and she said we were done, that I'd chosen the Morningstars over her. I’m sure Lola told you. Truly, Ican’t believe you didn’t realise until now.”
I want to smack my head on the table, but Ineed to say this before Ican breathe, eat, or do anything, “I know this has onlytechnicallybeen a thing for two weeks. Is it insane to say you’ve already met your goal from the BuzzFeed vid?”
Jett drops his fork. “Goal of making you fall for me? Oh shit, Baby, is this it?”
I squeak and nod, offering my hands across the table. He threads his fingers through mine. “I’m so sorry it took me eight years to realize it, but Ilove you, Jett Raven Jones, Iam yours and yours alone. Please let the intensity of my love and passion help make up for all the missed time?”
Jett jumps out of his seat, his arms heavenward in elation. “After EIGHT YEARS! She fuckin’ LOVES me!” Ishush him even though he’s so adorable Ican’t help but giggle. I’m concerned about making a scene, even though we’re tucked away in a corner. Jett is professionally loud as hell. He lowers his voice, “Eight god damn years, Baby, that’s how long I’ve loved you, and now you finally love me back. Ilove you, Matilda Rose Morningstar.”
Jett pulls me up, wraps me in his arms and spins me around, in the most sweeping, romantic,Oh shit, we have an audience. Why didn’t he book the private dining room? Because last week Isaid they’re too quiet and boring. Shit!
Apparently, the couple on the other side of the half wall wanted a quiet, romantic dinner, and of all the fucking couples that could be there, getting pissed at our volume and overall antics? God damn Asshole Archer and his girlfriend that he fucking cheated on me with. Isee a blur of people coming around to our side of the wall, and none of them look pleased.
“Sir, relax, we can handle—” the server tries to placate Ace.
“I’ve had enough, I’m going to just tell them my—” Ace’s voice is interrupted by Jett, as he stops spinning me. Two servers, a manager, Asshole Ace Archer, and his girlfriend, Imogen, are all staring at us. The mousy brunette gapes at us like she's watching a trainwreck in slow motion.
“You’ve got to be fucking joking?” Jett asks, incredulous, seeing Ace.
“I’m sorry.” Ismile pathetically at the manager. “We’ll, we’ll just go in the private room if that’s all right, I’m sorry we were so—”
Jett’s jaw is set square, right at Ace. “We’re going to need that room all right. The four of us are going in right god damn now to get this shit sorted.”
The manager closes us into the private room with curtains drawn in seconds flat. They don’t bring plates and glassware, and I’m concerned that's good foresight on their part.
“Eight years? You fucking kidding me, Jett?” Ace’s Prince William-esque demeanor and accent be damned, he can be a bit intimidating when he’s pissed. Intimidating to an accountant or something, though, not to a rockstar. “You think Iwant to hear you yelling about how youcoveted herthe whole time we were together, while Ipay for quiet, romantic ambience? Imean, really?”
He has a few inches of height on Jett and steps closer to him. Jett sheds all of his rings and hands them to me. Idon’t even try to fight the arousal that spikes through my body like adrenaline as he does. Ijingle the rings in my hand like a dungeon master about to roll the dice, glaring at Imogen as if she’d cross me twice.
“Couldn’t even treat her right for two years, you stupid twat! You think I’m supposed to feel for you? You can fuck right off!”
