It makes me smile. How fucked up is that?
“Listen,” she says, “I had a thought.”
My smile widens. “You did? Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Shut up!” But I can hear a smile in her voice that matches my own. “I have to tell you about it. Are you doing something tonight, then? Going out?”
“Nah, I’m at the apartment.”
She doesn’t ask why I said I won’t go to her, why I didn’t call.
She just says, “Then I’m coming over to you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Gigi
I’m done doubting Jarett. He’s shown his true colors time and again, most of all today, with his thoughtfulness and kindness.
And God, the way he acts with my mom, his respect, the wistfulness in his eyes when she talks to him… it’s not a romantic thing. It’s not sexy. But it touches me in a way nothing ever has.
It tells me I want to keep him.
Why didn’t he stay over? I thought after the connection we shared today he’d come to my bed. I’d hoped… yeah I’d hoped he wouldn’t ever stop coming over.
That he’d stay with me.
I stop the niggle of worry from growing too much as I hop into a cab and head over to his place. Last night he didn’t come over, either, and he was okay. Maybe he’s just tired.
Or he had gang business to attend to—and that’s another thing I don’t want to worry about. Not when I’m so happy that Octavia had the baby and they are both fine, that Mom’s ankle isn’t broken and that Rett was there, right there with me, with all of us. Part of the family.
Did he like them? Does he want to stay?
I climb out of the cab as the drizzle that has been falling all evening turns into rain. I run to the building entrance and text him that I’m there.
A few seconds later, the door buzzes open, and I rush inside the building to take the elevator up to the second floor.
Memories assault me on the slow ride up. Of the times I was here, how he pissed me off, how he turned me on.
The things we did. His hands in my hair, his lips on mine, his cock inside me as he held me up against the wall…
My heart is thumping hard by the time I’m standing outside his door. I lift my hand to ring the bell, and the door swings open.
Seeing him hits me square in the chest, in the heart, every time, and today’s no exception. He’s in worn jeans, an old black hoodie with holes in the sleeves, and gray socks. His jaw is scruffy, his hair a mess, sticking up in all directions, as if he’s been tugging at it.
He looks exhausted. Bruised.
And sexy. Only Jarett could pull that combo off.
“What happened now?” I reach up to touch his face, and he lets me, his eyes haunted. “Can’t leave you alone for a few hours before someone tries to hurt you?”
“Guess you shouldn’t leave me alone,” he mutters, catching my hand and pressing it to his bruised jaw, even though it must hurt. “Ever. I could get into trouble.”
“I think trouble follows you.”
He draws me into the apartment and closes the door, then presses me against its smooth surface, molding his strong body to mine. “Maybe that’s my middle name. Trouble.”
“Very funny.” I’m all breathless, his scent turning my knees weak, the hot length of his hard-on poking me in the belly. “Is it?”