“Umm, I think you were there five seconds ago.”
He thrusts his phone at me again, only this time I take it.
Our texts are open, and the last one was sent by me, telling him to do what he wants under the picture of Harley and him.
“Okay, I can kinda see how this is passive-aggressive now,” I say.
“Passive-aggressive? How about stupid and out of line? I ask if you’re fucking anyone, and you turn around and accuse me of … what? Wanting to sleep with Harley? Not only that, but you tell me to go for it? What the fucking fuck?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your roll for a second. I didn’t know what you meant. I didn’t know why you were asking me if I was fucking anyone when I thought it’d be obvious that I’m not interested in anyone but you. You’re the one with the ex still sniffing around you, and it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you two have dynamite chemistry. Your duet went viral, for fuck’s sake. You were in love with him only a few months ago.”
“Yeah, well, anyone with eyes would be able to tell that I’m in love with you now, you … you … I’ll use language your Canadian ass will understand, you big, dumb hoser!”
I blink at him again. “I think … But … Huh. The team doctor said I didn’t have a concussion, but now, I’m not so sure …”
Jet’s angry vibration stops suddenly. “Concussion?” Concern etches its way onto Jet’s beautiful features.
“Still haven’t seen a game of mine, then?”
“Luce made me go to the stupid after-party, which is where that photo was taken, by the way, and then as soon as I saw your message, I knew I had to see you, so no, I didn’t see your fucking game. I was going to stream it when I got back to my hotel, but I went straight to the airport. What’s this about a concussion?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. You … you flew here? From DC?”
“Had the band’s plane take me. What happened at the game?”
“I’m old. That’s what happened in the game.” I step forward and pull Jet against me, cupping his jaw and lowering my forehead to his. “You said you love me.”
“I also called you a hoser.”
“I am a hoser. I read into that text and thought … I dunno, I thought you were fishing for something.”
“I was. I wanted to know if you were fucking anyone. Luce even said it was blunt.”
I step aside to let him in. “Come in. We should talk about some stuff. About what we want.”
Jet grips my shirt. “I just want you.”
He kisses me hard and pulls me close, but his arms put pressure around my middle where I’m still sore.
I wince.
“Seriously, what happened at the game?” he asks.
“I took a nasty hit at the end of second period. Hit my head and bruised my side, but they checked me out and said I was fine. I still played the third. I’m just a little tender.”
Jet runs his hands over my shoulders and down my chest. “Let me take care of you.”
Hmm, sex or talking about what we should’ve talked about two weeks ago? Tough call.
“Fine, but afterward, we’re talking.”
“Mmhmm, sure.” Jet kisses me again. “Talking.” Lips land on my neck.
Okay, I know where this is leading, and I’m not making the same mistake we did the last night I was on tour. “Fuck it, we’ll talk right now and get it over with. Jet, I want you to be my boyfriend. Like, my proper, not just dating, not putting on a show for the media, boyfriend. I want that to be our truth. I don’t want anyone else touching you. Ever. Because this”—I grab his ass and pull him against me—“is mine.”
“There.” He slaps my chest. “Was that so hard to put in a text? Would’ve saved me a flight. You had me thinking you wouldn’t care if I hooked up with someone else.”
“I didn’t know what to say because I was sure ‘If Harley touches you, I know about ten different ways to kill a guy with my hockey gear’ would’ve scared you off.”
“Not at all.” Jet’s voice gets all raspy.
“You like it when I’m jealous?”
He nods.
I go to kiss him, but he stops me.
“Really though? Ten different ways?”
“Clubbing. Obviously.” I lift my finger and start rattling off ways while counting. “Using the stick to choke him is another. Snapping it in half and stabbing him. Do you want me to get started on my skates? Those fuckers are sharp.”
Jet laughs. “I don’t know if I should be terrified right now or not.”
“I did warn you.”
“I still love it.”
I grin. “You love me.”
Jet’s cheeks turn pink. “Maybe.”
“Nu-uh, you said it. You can’t take it back.”