Chapter 21

I arrived back at school with about two minutes to spare. Not waiting for Jett, I jumped out of the car and made a mad dash to the classroom where my economics exam was being held. Oddly, my chest didn't hurt at all during my marathon sprint.

I started freaking out when I saw nobody standing outside the room, but when I got to the door, I was relieved to find that they hadn't started yet. As I was about to walk in, someone grabbed my arm.

"Good luck." Jett leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, lingering near my face as he... smelled me? The whole thing was weird, but something about the way he did it made me want to take him up on the skipping-school idea.

Straightening, Jett said, "I'll see you soon." And once again he had to physically turn me around and gently push me inside my classroom.

As I took my seat, I looked toward the window, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him, but he'd already gone.

***

Two hours later, Jett was waiting for me outside the classroom. Sighs escaped from two nearby girls when he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my hair. How I even heard them above the beating of my heart was beyond me. I swallowed hard, trying to get my brain to function again, but it was impossible. As strange as his habit of smelling me was, having him so close was like a high that I never wanted to come down from. Sadly, he pulled away. I looked into the darkest brown eyes I'd ever seen. I had to blink a few times just to be sure they weren't black.

"Come on. We've got to be somewhere." Dropping one arm, he ushered me toward the car.

"Where?"

"You're getting your stitches out now."

We passed Tyler's friends, who all made a point of averting their eyes. Tyler was nowhere to be seen. Jett continued past them without even a glance and led me across the lot.

When I saw where the car was parked, I asked, "We've moved up to the loading zone?"

He unlocked my car and opened my door. "It's closer."

I got in the car. "Not to mention illegal."

Jett shrugged then closed my door and walked around to the driver's side.

"You seriously don't care, do you?" I asked as he sat beside me.

He started the engine. "Care about what?"

"Breaking the law."

He put the car into reverse then pulled out onto the street. "Not really."

"Do you even have a licence?"

He laughed. "Yeah. Passed my test first time round, and I've never had a ticket."

I laughed. "I find that hard to believe."

"Let me rephrase that. I haven't had a single ticket that I've had to pay. And before you ask, no, I've never lost my licence."

And I would have bet that was because of his father. He probably had a high-ranking officer on the payroll. Yet I found it hard to imagine that Jett was part of anything sinister. He had been nothing but sweet to me.

"Thank you," I said.

He looked at me curiously. "For what?"

"For taking care of me."

Jett put his hand over mine. "You're welcome." He turned into our street.

"Wait. I thought you said we were going to get my stitches out?"

"We are." He pulled into my garage.

Ugh! Getting answers from him was like pulling teeth. "Then how come we're here?"

He turned off the engine and opened his door. "The doctor's coming to your house." He got out of the car.

I opened my door and stood. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I turned to look at him over the car roof. "That's a bit unusual, isn't it?" I thought I would at least have to go into a surgery if not the hospital.

"I'm going to ask you again: How do you know so much about what's supposed to happen when you get shot?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What makes you the expert?"

He made his way around the car. "Because I was the one the doctors gave instructions to after you were shot."

Nothing about his logic seemed right, but I wasn't going to get anything else from him, so I let it go. But when the doctor arrived, that was going to be another story.

Jett tucked his fingers under the strap of my bag and tugged me toward him. I sucked in a shallow breath as my heart started doing somersaults. My eyes dropped to his mouth, which was separated from mine by no more than a sliver of light. His lips parted, and he slowly dragged in a breath, making my heart skip a beat or two. I thought he was going to close the distance, but the seconds ticked by and... nothing.

I looked up into his eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. My impure thoughts came crashing to a halt when I saw that his eyes had once again changed to the almost-black I'd seen earlier.

A knowing look crossed his face. He slipped my bag off my shoulder and spun toward the door. "We should get inside. The doctor will be here any minute."

Still in a daze, I followed him inside. He dropped my bag next to the door and sauntered into the kitchen. I picked up my bag and carried it over to the lounge, where I sat down and pulled out my study notes for my next exam. I tried to concentrate, but it was useless. My mind was once again completely consumed with Jett and his mysterious eyes.

I dropped my notes on the couch and turned on the TV. When the screen came to life, a news reporter was covering a story of a missing man in his early twenties. A car matching his had been found completely burned out with the licence plates and VIN numbers removed. A picture of the man was shown along with the contact number for Missing Persons. The next story was about the upcoming Schoolies celebration. The camera switched to a police officer who warned that there would be zero tolerance for public drinking and fighting. The officer added that they were hoping to have a significant drop in Toolies this year.

When Jett carried in two cups of coffee, I teased, "You're going to be a Toolie, aren't you?"

He handed me a coffee. "Yep." He sat beside me on the couch. "I've already got a T-shirt made up with Toolie written across the chest just so there's no mistaking what I am."

"You do not."

"Do, too." He took a sip of his coffee. "My brother had it made up for me last year."

"Wait," I said, pulling my eyebrows together. "Weren't you a schoolie last year?"

He shook his head.

My eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you graduated last year."

"Nope." He took another sip. "The year before." He watched me tick the numbers over in my head. "I'm nineteen, turning twenty in January. On the twenty-fifth."

"Bullshit." I scooted over next to him and held out my hand. "Give me your licence."

With a smile, he pulled out his wallet and handed it to me. I opened it and took out his licence.

"That's friggin insane." I shook my head in disbelief. "I was born on the twenty-fifth of January, too." When he didn't seem surprised, I said, "You know that's weird, right?"

"There's a one in three-hundred-sixty-five chance that we could be born on the same day. And in case you're unaware, there are probably another twenty million people that share our birthday, too."

I slapped him with his wallet. "Smartass."

He grinned. A knock sounded at the door.

Jett got up to answer it. "Wait here."

A few seconds later, he led a man in his late thirties over to where I sat. The guy carried a black bag in one hand.

The man held out his hand. "Hi, Zara. I'm Doctor Brennan."

I reached out and shook it. "Hi."

Doctor Brennan sat down beside me and put his bag next to his feet. "Now, Jett tells me that the wound has healed quite well. Have you had any questions or concerns?"

"Um, yeah." I gulped. "From what I've read on the Internet, I don't understand how it healed so quickly. I mean, it's been less than a week, and all I feel is a slight tightness in my chest."

He nodded as he opened his bag. "You were actually quite lucky. The reason your wound healed so quickly was because the bullet didn't go in far and it just nicked a rib. The surgeons were able to retrieve the bullet and stitch together the damaged tissue." He pulled out something that resembled a large tin pencil case. "The pain you've been feeling over the last few days is nothing more than bruising and repairing of the damaged muscles."

Something about that explanation didn't sit right, but I felt weird arguing with a doctor. And as Jett kept pointing out, I knew nothing about gunshot wounds.

"Okay," I replied. "Um, I was also wondering why there's no records of me in any of the hospitals around here?"

He drew his eyebrows together. "That's not right. I was one of your treating doctors at Broadbeach Hospital. There must be a spelling error or something... I'll look into when I'm back at work on Friday."

Relief washed over me. "Thanks."

"Now," he said, opening the case and pulling out a pair of tweezers and some blunt-nosed scissors. "Let's get these stitches out."

My blood ran cold when he reached for my shirt. Jett must have sensed my unease because he sat beside me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and holding my hand. "You'll be okay."

Taking a deep breath, I undid the top two buttons of my shirt. The doctor pulled my shirt to the side, exposing my bra. I thought about telling Jett to go into another room, but fear overcame modesty.

Focusing on Jett's eyes, I tried to block out my peripheral vision as the doctor pulled at the stitches.

Minutes later, Doctor Brennan said, "All done."

It took me a second to realise that the doctor said anything at all. I was completely captivated by the changing colour of Jett's eyes. In that short period of time, the colour had changed from a medium brown to a deeper hue that was almost black. I had heard of some people's eyes changing colours, but I never thought it could be within seconds.

I turned to the doctor. "Thanks."

Doctor Brennan put his things back in his bag and stood.

"Is that it? I mean, do I need to make any more appointments for scans or anything?" I asked.

"That's it. Everything has healed nicely, and I don't anticipate any complications." He headed toward the front door. "However, if you do notice anything unusual, just ask Jett to call me." He opened the door and left.

I thought it was a bit strange that a doctor would tell me to ask someone who wasn't even related to me to call him. I didn't have much time to think about how screwed up that was because I completely lost track of my thoughts when Jett lifted his shirt over his head.

He grinned when he noticed me staring. My cheeks flushed, and I looked away. I felt him get off the couch, then he was behind me, bending over the back of it.

He lifted me with apparent ease and held me against his bare chest. "Come down to the beach with me?"

I giggled like a stupid schoolgirl. "Do I have a choice?"

"Nope." He carried me over to the back door, opened it, and put me on my feet on the other side of the threshold. "Wait here."

He disappeared inside then returned, holding two towels. He handed them to me then grabbed his board, which had been leaning against the house.

I cocked an eyebrow. "You want me to watch you surf?"

"Unless you want to join me..."

I looked down at my uniform. "You realise I'm not wearing my swimmers, don't you?"

He smirked, his eyes flicking down to my chest, where only moments ago, my bra had been on display. "I know."

Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I turned to go back inside.

"Not so fast." He wrapped an arm around me, his hand settling above my scar. "Come sit on the beach, and I promise I won't bring up what I may or may not have seen." When I started to pull away, he added, "Or I could get my brother to come over while I'm gone?"

I glared at him. "You do know that I'm no longer in need of someone looking after me twenty-four-seven?"

He let go. "You may not need any physical help anymore, but need I remind you that it was less than a week ago that someone broke into your house and shot you?"

I exhaled loudly. "Fine. But at least let me get my phone."

Once I had retrieved my phone, we walked down to the beach. About halfway to the water, Jett dropped the towels and shoved his board into the sand. He laid out a towel for me.

"Thanks," I said, sitting down with my legs crossed.

"I won't be out there long." He ruffled my hair then jogged down to the water.

I unlocked my phone then opened my Facebook app. Scrolling through the recent updates from my friends in Sydney, I thought I should be missing them a lot more than I actually was, and it made me realise that something had changed in me. At first, I thought it was because of almost being raped then getting shot, but neither of those seemed to be the catalyst for what I felt. I opened the search engine, planning to do some more investigating about rapid wound healing.

Zane suddenly plopped down next to me. I hadn't heard him approach, and I jumped a little.

"Some warning next time would be nice." I wanted to add that having him stay away from me would be even better, but he was Jett's brother, so I figured I should at least try to be polite.

"Sorry," Zane said, obviously not meaning it. He leaned back on his elbow. "I see you're still caught up over my brother?"

I could feel him practically undressing me with his eyes. I readjusted my skirt to cover as much of my legs as possible. "I'm not. I—"

Zane wrapped a piece of my hair around his finger "I told you before—he doesn't do relationships."

His touch made my skin crawl. He was so arrogant, but not in the same way Jett was. Zane expected me to fall into his lap and feel blessed for the opportunity.

I gathered my hair and twisted it up into a bun. "And I suppose you do?" I raised an eyebrow.

In one swift motion, he sat up and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. My breath caught as he leaned into my ear and inhaled in that same creepy way Jenna had. "I would make an exception for you."

As I started to scoot away, Jett appeared out of nowhere and shoved Zane to the side. How he had gotten out of the water and up the beach so fast was beyond me. Only a moment ago, I'd seen him out there, waiting for a wave.

Ignoring, Zane's death stare, Jett held out his hands to me. I took them, and he pulled to my feet.

"Thanks," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He cupped my cheek. "You okay?"

I nodded.

Zane laughed. "Of course she's okay. We were just talking."

I turned around. "Is that what you call it?"

Jett possessively pulled me against his wet body. A million butterflies were released inside of me, and even though his actions may not have meant what I wanted them to, I was happy to live in my delusion.

Jett nuzzled my hair and took a slow, deep breath, making my knees go weak. I leaned into him and tilted my head to the side. A throaty growl escaped from him, and I closed my eyes, revelling in the completely bizarre moment that seemed to say so much that I didn't understand on a conscious level, but on a subconscious level, my body was responding to something primitive.

Zane looked away.

"Let's go." Jett nudged me forward.

He didn't let go until we were inside my house. In the lounge, he turned me in his arms, the cool air of the air conditioner blowing against the back of my soaked uniform sending a chill down my spine.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

I didn't understand what had gone down on the beach between him and his brother, but as far as I was concerned, Zane was a creep, and that was everything I needed to know. "I'm fine. Just a bit cold."

He looked me in the eye, probably trying to ascertain if I was telling the truth.

"I'm gonna go have a shower," I said. I turned around and hurried up the stairs.

After I was clean and dressed in pyjama shorts and a tank top, I ventured downstairs. I found Jett in the kitchen, standing over the hotplates. The smells wafting through the air were divine.

He looked up and asked, "Feeling better?"

"Much." I rested a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't know you could cook." I leaned over to take a look in the pan. "What are you cooking?"

"Spaghetti bolognaise."

Jett swiped at my hand as I reached for the pan, but he wasn't fast enough. I picked out a strand of sauce-covered spaghetti and shoved it in my mouth. I regretted it the moment the noodle landed on my tongue. "Holy shit, that's hot!"

He laughed as I grabbed the milk out of the fridge then poured some and downed the entire glass.

"That is way too hot," I said, when my mouth no longer felt on fire.

Jett grabbed a spoon and tasted a bit of the sauce. His eyes flared, and he rushed to the sink and spat it out.

I poured a glass of milk. He gulped it then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Holy shit." Taking the pan off the stove, he tipped it into the sink and turned on the incinerator.

I shook my head. "You know, spaghetti bolognaise isn't supposed to be spicy, right?"

He shrugged. "I never said I could cook."

I took a seat on the bench. "Then please don't ever cook again."

He came over to me and placed his hand on the bench on either side of me. "So I guess winning you over with my amazing culinary skills is out of the question?"

Winning me over? I wasn't sure I'd heard right. "Did you just say...?"

He nodded.

I laughed as I waved at the sink. "Is that what you were trying to do?"

Jett moved forward, pushing my knees apart. My legs cooperated before my brain even knew what was going on. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me toward him.

I raised my eyebrows. "That's pretty forward, isn't it?"

"I know what I want."

I slumped my shoulders. "And what is that?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

Placing two hands on his chest, I pushed, forcing him to take a step back. I hated every second because all I wanted was to feel him against me, but I wasn't willing to become a booty call. "I'm not that kind of girl." I figured he would be pissed because I was pretty sure I was the only girl to ever reject him, even if only temporarily.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't do one-night stands."

He chuckled then regained his position between my legs. "What makes you think that's all I want from you?"

"Rumour has it, you don't do relationships."

"Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want. I'm not going to get involved with someone who has commitment issues."

He smiled. "How do you know I have commitment issues?"

"Your brother told me. Not those exact words. But he said you don't do relationships."

"Zane told you that?"

"Twice."

Jett scratched his forehead. He seemed to be debating on what to tell me. "Zane's right. I don't do relationships."

I dropped my gaze to my hands that I'd unknowingly balled into fists. I felt as if I'd been sucker punched, but I was glad that I'd found out then rather than after I'd completely fallen in love with him.

He put his finger under my chin and lifted it, so I had no choice but to look at him. "But you're different. And I know that sounds corny, but it's the truth. Those other girls could never have been a part of my lifestyle."

"But I could be?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I shook my head. "That doesn't even make sense. Wait. Is that the line you use on girls?"

He tucked my hair behind my ear. "No, it's not a line. And I know it doesn't make sense, but one day soon, you'll understand. For now, you're just going to have to trust me that you're different. We'll be different. And I'm not saying that we're going to fall in love, get married, and have two-point-five children."

I strained a laugh. "Good. I think we're a bit too young to start planning our forevers."

Jett smiled and took my hands in his. "I want to give us a go and see where it takes us."

I bit my lower lip. "You haven't even kissed me yet. I could be the lamest kisser who makes you swallow a mouth full of saliva every—"

Jett pressed his lips to mine. Cupping my face, he gently parted my lips with his tongue. My entire body began to tingle from the soft, sensual way he was discovering my kissing abilities for himself. All too soon, he pulled away, leaving me desperately wanting more.

"Did I pass?" My voice came out raspy.

"Hmm... I think I need another try just to be sure." He leaned in and kissed me again.

I ran my hands through his hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss. A sexy growl came from his throat. He worked his hands down my back, stopping on my ass and pulling me closer. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Lifting me off the bench, he carried into the lounge and laid me on the couch, careful not to put his full weight on me as he stayed trapped within my embrace.

His hand found the hem of my shorts and slid up my thigh until it reached my panties. I wasn't a first-date girl, but feeling him against me almost changed my mind. But we needed to stop. I put my hands on his chest and... I couldn't do it. His pecs were almost too perfect, and I just had to take the time to appreciate them. And then I had to see if his abs were as good as his pecs, and then...

Before I knew it, I had found his belt, and I didn't care what type of girl I wanted to be. All I knew was what I wanted at that very second. I wanted him—all of him.

Jett broke away. "I'm sorry." He sat up, pulling me up with him.

I was practically panting. "I'm not."

He grinned. "Not like this."

I grinned back. "Isn't that what the girl is supposed to say?"

"Then I guess I'm the girl tonight." He winked.