Jet

Leaning against the tailgate of my truck, I toss the half-smoked cigarette and grind out the flame. A flame burned out too soon reminds me of the woman inside my house.

I grab my guitar case from the back and shake my head. It’s fucking ridiculous that one woman can consume my thoughts as she has.

Hannah Nichols is a chick, just like any other. One night is generally a good policy to live by when it comes to letting women into my life. More than once becomes an obligation I have no current intentions of having right now. Add a major life change into the mix, and two nights is out of the fucking question.

I made that mistake with Marcy. Even tonight, she came catcalling, drunk with that look in her eyes. I could have fucked her in the parking lot. She offered. Or taken her in a bathroom stall with other people next door. Another offer that didn’t appeal to me.

That’s not who I am. A woman worth sticking my dick in is worth an actual date, but that’s not what Marcy wants. She wanted to fuck tonight when she came up after the show trying to pull my shirt up and my jeans down. Her sharp nails scratched my side when I removed her hands.

When I told her to find some other guy, a slap followed but was caught before impact. That was when the fun we’d had in the past was just that—over and done and in the past.

She doesn’t want me. Not really. She wants anyone who she can show off. She wants to cling to my minor fame around town. But ultimately, she wants something she knows she’ll never have again—me.

She’s a bad habit that never should have been and will never be again.

Marcy is nothing like Hannah.

That’s a big fucking problem for me since Hannah is the one who doesn’t see us as ever being more than opposing teams.

It would be wise for me not to think of her, but when I saw her standing outside my bedroom, my thoughts ran wild, sticking to me like glue all night. She was buried in every riff of my guitar, the notes that made the melody, the cheering of the crowd. She was at the forefront of my mind as if my muse had tracked me down just to haunt me even more.

What would have happened if I’d invited her all the way in? What would she have done if I had kissed her in the hallway? What harm would be done if we’d snuck in an encore? No one would know but the two of us.

The two of us . . . Hannah is the kind of trouble I don’t need right now. Being conflicted keeps her tied up in her head. Eileen is whispering shit in her ear that’s just not true. I can argue all day long, but Hannah is torn between us. Why would I torture myself by pursuing a woman who can’t see my truth?

Just because she’s sexy as fuck doesn’t mean she’s worth the time trying to convince her I’m worth the effort. The only problem is I don’t believe that shit myself.

Smart. Gorgeous. Strong. Independent. Feisty. She’s worth the trouble.

She’s the sort of woman I want in my life. And if I’m honest, I can see how good it would be to have a partner to come home to. For me and for Alfie. She’s worth every effort, but she doesn’t want me.

Maybe in time she’ll see in me what I see in her—worth the effort.

Until then, two’s a good number—Alfie and me.

I open the front door, expecting to get an irritated glare or a snarky remark. It would almost be warranted, considering it’s almost two in the morning.

But that’s not what I get.

Instead, I’m greeted with the stunning sight of a sleeping siren. Closing the door behind me, I’m as quiet as can be as I lock up. I set my guitar down and sit in a chair. What do I do? Wake her? Let her sleep? Move her to my bed? Send her home?

Sending her home is the last thing I want. I wonder how pissed off she’ll be if I don’t wake her. Leaning back, I like seeing her face free from worries and her body relaxed. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable, but she might kick my ass if I wake her.

I decide to leave her be for now. I brush my teeth and strip down to my boxers, kicking my clothes to the corner of the bathroom. I grab a pillow from my bed and go back into the living room to set it down.

She’s still asleep when I return. I watch her a minute before I get up and stand over her. Reaching down, I lift her into my arms. Light as a feather. I need to feed this woman more ramen and put some weight on her.

Just as I start to walk down the hall, her eyes open and her arms go around my neck. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed.”

So what if I phrase it a specific way . . . I chuckle without shaking her.

“Okay,” she says, her eyes dipping closed.

Okay?

Don’t think my whole body doesn’t react to that response. I set her on the bed and pull the sheet and blanket over her as she snuggles in. I’m surprised she’s “okay” with this. When her breathing deepens I move to leave, but she reaches up and captures my hand. “Stay.”

Stay.

One word.

One request.

It would be so easy to slide in behind her and hold her until morning. I would sleep better than I have since she left the last time. The offer is tempting, just like she is.

But I’m thinking she’s not fully awake. If she was, she wouldn’t be asleep in my bed like everything’s A-OK. Her hand soon falls away, and she’s asleep before I have a chance to talk myself into climbing in this bed with her.

I close the door when I leave and peek in on Alfie. The nightlight allows me to see his sleeping form. Pulling the covers over an exposed foot, I also kiss his head before sneaking back out.

After grabbing a blanket from the closet, I settle on the couch with my pillow and cover up the best I can. My legs are too damn long, but sleeping out here is the right thing to do. Hannah would be furious if she found me sleeping next to her in the morning.

“Sleep on the couch,” I repeat, really for myself. I’ll stay here, even if the couch is lumpy and my feet hang off the side. I left a little piece of my heart in that back bedroom, but it doesn’t make sense why I’d even think that. Hannah and I are a lost cause that’s not going to be found between the sheets despite how good we are when we’re together.  

I have to learn to stay away just like she wants.

* * *

My eyes burn.

My body tenses.

My mind is filled with too much groggy fog to reason through. What the fuck hour is it? Squinting an eye open, I’m greeted with an angel in a Crow Bros tee, flowing chestnut hair cascades over the side of her sweet face. I close my eye to see if she remains and if I can get lost in the dirty dreams I’m about to have. When she disappears behind my lids, I reopen my eyes to discover a dream come true. “Hannah.”

“How do you like your eggs?” Soft pink lips. Clear blue eyes. Her voice is only a whisper of the sweet sound of her melodic tone.

Reaching forward, I’m still precariously balanced between sleep and reality. Just to test if I’m awake, I touch her leg and my hand is promptly smacked. She stands and walks away. “He’ll take scrambled, Alfie.”

I lift on my elbow and see Alfie standing next to her at the stove, their backs to me. I forgot I was on the couch. No wonder my back hurts. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Morning, Jet. Hannah stayed. It was like a sleepover, but she slept in your room and not mine.”

Hannah smiles. “Next time, buddy.”

Alfie runs over and sits on the coffee table where Hannah was. “I have school today. Hannah’s going to take me. Will you pick me up?”

Ruffling his hair, I smile. “Course, bud. What time?”

He looks at Hannah, and my eyes follow. Hannah twirls a spatula like a pro. God, that woman’s sexy. “We could use a drummer,” I say. “Got any rhythm?” I know she does in the bedroom, but with the kid around, I keep it to myself.

With a wiggle of her hips, she smiles, and it’s so damn enticing. “I’ve got a few moves. But I don’t know anything about drumming.” Signaling toward Alfie, she adds, “School ends at two forty-five. You should get there around two thirty to find parking. You’ll have to wait for his class to come out, and when the teacher sees you, she’ll release Alfie into your care.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It’s not.” She laughs. “Safety precautions. I’ll add you to the approved pick-up list.”

I sit all the way up and run my hands through my hair. I’m sure I look awesome at six thirty in the morning. Not really. “Approved pick-up list?”

“You have to be on the list to pick up Alfie.”

“Right. Safety precautions.” Maybe it’s because I’m running on four hours sleep, but I’m not feeling cut out for this job right now. Looking back at Hannah and Alfie, she’s moving through this routine like it’s second nature with a smile on her face.

Catching me watching them, she sets a plate down on the bar and tells him to eat. There’s something in her eyes I’m not able to read from here, so silently I ask, “What?”

After taking a seat next to me, she leans in and quietly says, “You can do this, Jet.”

She sees through me, right into my mind, touching on my insecurities. “Do what?”

Nodding toward Alfie, she gives me a reassuring smile. “It’s easier than it sounds. Showing up is what matters most.”

I have a feeling it’s not just school she’s talking about. Her wisdom extends beyond the words. Moving the tips of my fingers under the tips of hers resting on her thigh, I tap. “Message received.”

Not sure what happens, but her smile fades and her lips part as she stares at our hands. When I see how she stiffens, I pull back. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Licking her lips, she tugs one side of the bottom one under her teeth. She’s standing too soon for my liking.

Alfie drops his dishes in the sink with a clatter and says, “All done. Come eat your eggs, Jet.”

“I’ll eat, but you need to brush your teeth.”

When he rushes down the hall, I get up and find a plate waiting for me with a mug of coffee next to it. “You cook, you make coffee, and you’re great with kids.”

“Don’t say it, Crow. I have dreams of my own to pursue.”

Guess they don’t include me . . . we’ll see about that. I take a sip. Perfect brew. “What are your dreams?”

She pauses, studying me. “My dreams?”

“Yeah. Your dreams.”

“Sorry,” she says, looking down, the shirt she snagged from me suddenly the most fascinating thing ever. Seeming to realize she’s paused too long, she adds, “It’s been a while since anyone asked about me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because if it wasn’t about Cassie or something she needs, I was told what I needed to do for Alfie.”

“He’s six. He doesn’t need much but love, I reckon.”

Agreeing, she stands, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “He’s changed me for the better. I’ve screwed up my life, but he loves me like I haven’t.”

“How old are you, Hannah?”

Feigning offense, she places her hand on her chest and her lips go wide into the prettiest smile. The shirt engulfs her small frame, the collar hanging wide and exposing some of her shoulder. I’ll never ask for it back. It looks a lot better on her than on me. “I do declare, Mr. Crow, that a lady never gives up her secrets.”

I’m just about to tell her I can guess, but Alfie walks back in and says, “Hannah’s twenty-four.”

Pretending to be a monster, she goes after him with wiggly fingers. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.” When she catches him, he’s giggling uncontrollably while trying to form words to make her stop. Setting him free, she asks, “Can you give me and Jet another minute to chat? Maybe draw a giggle monster to show me?”

Nodding with excitement, he runs back to his room. She turns back to me. “There. Now you know.”

“I still don’t know about your dreams.”

“It’s too early to get into all that, don’t you think?”

“Too early to start living your dream? I don’t think so.”

“Let me ask you something. Did you always know you wanted to play music, to be in a band, to perform for live audiences?”

Leaning against the counter, I reply, “Yes. That’s why when money was tight I quit college. I couldn’t see how sitting in an auditorium learning about gravitational dynamics would help me land a recording deal. Playing music every night whether to a coffeehouse or at the Austin Music Awards would. Every time I got on stage, I got more comfortable, I honed my skills, my talent, and I figured out our sound.”

She sits back down and looks my way. “What about Alfie? I want him to go to college.”

“He will go to college. Just like Rivers and Tulsa.”

“They have degrees?”

“Rivers does. Tulsa graduates next December. He can’t go full time with our gigs, so it’s taken a little longer. I haven’t gone back, but I think you understand the sacrifices you’re willing to make to take care of others.”

It’s the minutest of nods, but I see it as her gaze falls to the floor.

We’re in uncomfortable territory for her, and as much as I’d love to delve deeper, I won’t risk her shutting down just when we’re getting somewhere. “It’s not just the coffee that makes you a catch, you know?”

She hates attention and starts dusting imaginary lint from her jeans. “What else makes me a catch, Jet?”

I return to the couch, setting my mug on the table in front of me. “Everything.”

“Everything?” She snorts, and I think I fall a little more for her.

“You’re not what you think, Hannah.”

“What do I think?”

“You think you’re hardened and in control all the time. That everything rolls off your back, no problem. Your feelings play like a movie in your eyes—sadness, conflict, happiness, and anger, sometimes directed at me. You give them life, beautiful complicated emotions.”

She stands, scoffing as if I couldn’t possibly be referring to her. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

I take the dare and touch her leg, my hand spanning the inside of her right calf to stop her from leaving. She rests her hand on my shoulder and whispers, “You don’t know me.”

When she walks away, I ask, “What if I want to?”

Her modus operandi is back in play, and she ignores the comment and continues like she didn’t hear me. “I made up the bed. You should get some sleep. I’ll text you the details to pick up Alfie later.”

“So that’s it?”

I watch her hesitate and then nod. “That’s all it can be.” The sound of her talking to Alfie carries. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he replies.

When he returns to the living room, I catch him and whisk him into my arms. He’s happy. This kid is so damn happy, even at an ungodly hour. Carrying him upside down, I ask, “Have you seen Alfie, Hannah?”

Coming back with his jacket and backpack, she takes his lunch from the counter and pretends to look around. “Nope, haven’t seen him.”

“Now where could he be?”

He’s a giggly monster. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“I think I hear something.”

“Where?” Hannah plays along.

Alfie flails his arms while laughing even more. “Here. Here. Here.”

Spinning him right side up, I come face to face with him. “Ohhhh here you are.”

He rubs his hand up the side of my cheek. “Ouch,” he teases.

Taking his hand, I kiss his palm. “Better?”

“I get to come here after school, right?”

“You do. I’ll pick you up from school.”

Hannah walks by and tugs his shirt. “C’mon, kiddo. We have to get going or we’ll be late.”

I hug him to me. It’s purely selfish. “You have a good day and work hard. Okay?”

When I set him down, he runs to the front door and takes her hand. Eyeing her, I ask, “You stealing that shirt?”

“I am.” Walking out the door, I see the smile she tries to hide. That smile. The ghost of a smile. That was for me. God, she’s gorgeous.

“See you later, gators.”

“Bye,” Alfie calls back and closes the door.

Taking the mug with me into the kitchen, I devour the eggs they made for me and then head to bed. I need sleep. With a full belly and running on only a few hours sleep, I make my way to my bedroom.

The bed is made, but I mess it up when I climb in. Lying here in the darkish room, I focus my senses. The scent is faint, but I can smell her on my pillow.

I could lie here all day breathing in her perfume as if she’s still here, and it would never come close to having the real thing. I close my eyes, and her words come back to me. “Showing up is what matters most.”

Show up.

Not just for Alfie, but her.

Show up.