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The low, deep coaxing of his voice is like permission. A warm, safe permission, taking control and allowing me to open up and talk. Not worry about the consequences of how many pieces I will be broken into afterward.
I look into his dark eyes. They hold mine. Waiting.
“I was in the plane crash that killed my father and the pilot.”
“I know.”
“You know?” I blink, and he continues to hold my eyes, the perfect picture of control and calm that I so desperately need.
“I know you better than you think, Ava.”
It must have been the way I acted on the flight to New York, being so anxious. Jet must have tuned into it, realized the reason.
His admission calms me, because sometimes I wonder if I even know myself. At least if someone knows me, then I won’t ever get lost. Cease to exist. Forgotten.
“I saw it all. The blood, the…” I swallow, turning to look out through the blowing drapes at the night sky. “I was in the forest for three days before they found me. They were so close. I heard the helicopter. I screamed for them to see me. I screamed so hard I lost my voice. But they flew away. I thought I was going to be alone there forever.”
His warm fingers flex on my hip before he continues stroking.
“I was unconscious when they found me. Gramps said I didn’t talk for months after. I was too scared to remember it all.”
I turn to him, tears racing down my cheeks as my breath turns into a sob.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you. I just… all the flights we’ve taken. It’s bringing it back. And…”
He wraps me in his arms without saying anything. His lips dip into my hair and he kisses the crown of my head.
“It’s what I’ve been writing about. My therapist suggested it years ago, but I could never bring myself to do it.”
“That’s what you’ve been working on,” he says in understanding.
I sniff. “All the newspapers and TV shows kept calling for months afterward. They wanted my story. They even gave me a nickname… But I… I never wanted to tell it. I…” A sob escapes me, and Jet shushes me, turning my face inside his palm so I meet his eyes.
They bring an instant calm to me as I look into their unwavering depth.
“No one has to ever read it if that’s what you want. It’s for you, Ava, no one else.”
I nod as he wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I know. But I had this stupid idea that I might finally share it… If I feel ready once it’s finished.”
“I’m so fucking proud of you.”
His words floor me.
“I am,” he repeats, searching my eyes. “You’re so strong.”
“I’m not.”
He moves slowly, pressing a kiss to my lips. “You are.” He presses another kiss to my lips, then pauses. “Tell me what you want. We can stay up the rest of the night and talk. Or I can just be here beside you until you can get back to sleep. Whatever you want, Ava.”
I swallow. “I want you to kiss me again. Keep kissing me.”
“You sure?” His lips dust mine in the gentlest of kisses, and his hand skates up over my jaw.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Do it again.” I lean into his palm as he slants his mouth over mine.
He kisses me with a gentleness I’ve only seen fleeting glimpses of in him before. This time his kisses aren’t urgent or infused with lust. He takes his time. Wanting nothing in return.
I pull him closer and whisper his name.
