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He glances at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. As if he hadn't expected my sympathy, my understanding. “Lesson learned. Can't trust anyone in this business.”
I shake my head, fierce protectiveness welling up inside me. “That's not true. You can't let one bad experience color your whole worldview.”
The weight of his gaze settles on me like he's seeing me for the first time. Not as Daniel's sister or the annoying tagalong, but as someone who understands. “You're a good person, Scar. Better than most.”
I catch Jett's gaze flicking to my lips. For a heartbeat, I imagine closing that gap, tasting him, proving love isn't always doomed. But the moment slips away.
Jett clears his throat. “Enough about my existential crisis.”
“Careful,” I tease. “Change too much and you might not recognize yourself.”
He laughs, eyes crinkling. “Ouch. Kicking me while I'm down?”
“Someone's got to check that ego,” I grin.
“Ah yes, the image,” he drawls, rolling his eyes. “Can't tarnish the persona, can we?”
The server whisks away the remnants of our meal. I get up to leave, fumbling for my wallet, but brushes off my attempt to pay with a grin and a shake of his head.
I blink in surprise as Jett slips Maggie a thick wad of cash. It looks like enough to stock her fridge for a week. Maggie's eyes widen, and she refuses, but Jett plants a kiss on her weathered cheek, and mutters something about 'taking care of the regulars.'
My chest tightens, admiration and something deeper stirring inside me. But as quickly as that warmth spreads, a painful truth lodges in my chest, sharp and unyielding.
Despite this newfound connection, we're separated by a vast chasm, no matter how much my traitorous heart wishes otherwise.
On one side is Jett, the reckless dreamer, and on the other is me, ever the pragmatist craving stability and predictability.
I reach for the door handle, but something stops me, a question burning on the tip of my tongue. “Jett?”
His expression is unreadable in the fading light. “Yeah?”
“Do you ever wish things had been different? That you'd chosen a different path?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. I hold my breath, afraid of his answer.
Jett is silent for a long moment, his gaze searching mine. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Every damn day, Scar. Every damn day.”
The raw honesty in his confession catches me off guard, causing the carefully constructed walls around my heart to crack, letting in a glimmer of something new.
Jett's hand rests over mine, the contact igniting a spark that travels up my arm and straight to my chest. I inhale sharply, caught between the urge to pull away and the desire to lean into his touch.
“We should probably get back on the road,” Jett says, his voice husky. “Still got a long way to go.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As we walk back to the car, I can't shake the feeling that something has irrevocably shifted between us. The air feels charged, the silence heavy with emotion.
I slide into the passenger seat, my skin tingling from Jett's touch. As he starts the engine, I steal a glance, my heart racing.
Despite my best efforts, I'm not immune to Jett's charms. And that is going to make this road trip a whole lot more complicated.
Chapter 6
Scarlett
After filling up on the best damn pie I've ever tasted, I can feel my guard slipping around Jett as we hit the road again.
The tension that's been simmering between us feels like it's reached a boiling point, ready to bubble over at any moment. I fidget with the radio, desperate for a distraction, searching for something other than static or country.
“So, I booked us a place to crash for the night,” Jett says, one hand lazily draped over the steering wheel. “Figured we could both use some rest after all this driving.”
