Page 48 of At the Edge with You

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Fable

The last week, I’ve been so embarrassed that I’ve allowed Jett to put some space between us. I can’t believe how my mom acted about him, but more so, I hate that he knows she wasn’t happy finding us the way she did. While I hate the distance we now have, I am thankful for it, because my mind is a mess. It’s a scary thing to feel things you’ve never felt. Especially when you’ve been told you couldn’t.

Yet Jett makes me feel them with ease. I don’t understand what I’m feeling, and I couldn’t put it into words when I talked to my therapist, Alissa, last week. I danced all around the subject of Jett, never really diving in. I’m pretty sure Alissa knew too, but she let me be, and I don’t know if that was for the best.

Everything else may be insanely confusing and frustrating, but I do know I’ve missed him this past week. Our meetings have been cordial. We still go back and forth, but he is agreeing with me more than he is flat-out saying no. Though, the playfulness is gone. I haven’t seen him outside of our meetings, and then at the game last night, he didn’t even acknowledge me. He hasn’t reallylooked at me. I haven’t even caught him staring at my boobs, and I don’t like that one bit.

I’ve spent the last twenty years rebelling against everything my parents wanted from me, and now, I’m scared these feelings are just that. Me going against everything they want. But if that’s the case, then why do my eyes meeting his send peace but also heat throughout my body? I’d thought that feeling was foreign to someone like me, but Jett makes me feel it.

Everything is just so complicated.

It’s not only the perplexing thoughts about Jett that have me on edge. It’s that, this whole week, my mom has found something to bitch at me for. If it’s not how I don’t load the dishwasher correctly, then it’s about my skates not being hung all the way on the peg. Make that one make sense to me, because I’m having a hard time understanding how I’m hanging skates wrong. I swear she hasn’t been going into the office just to find things I’m doing wrong. Too many towels, too much food being eaten, and then she started blaming me for things going missing. I haven’t taken anything of my mom’s. I haven’t even been to her part of the house, but she stays busy in mine. Kitty tries to run interference, but she’s grieving, and it’s not her job to protect me any longer. I’m supposed to be caring for her.

It’s my duty.

Not only to her but to myself.

And shit, I feel the need to care for Jett. Protect him from my parents and reassure him. Instead of space, maybe I should have taken care of him, but I chose the coward’s way out. The fear of acting on these feelings leaves me in shambles, because if I can’t give him what my body thinks it wants, I think he’ll leave me behind once more.

And I don’t know if I can do that again.

I look over Hazel’s shoulder, where she is leaning down to look at my work, to see where he is. Jett is practically leaningoff the table, shirtless, with his eyes trained on the skin I’m revealing. He’s holding on for dear life, and I’m surprised the table hasn’t flipped. By the look in his eyes, I don’t even think a table flipping and him busting his ass could stop him from drinking me in. I hold back my laughter at how silly he looks, but knowing he wants to see has me reeling.

It’s an all-consuming feeling when a man looks at a woman the way Jett is looking at me.

As if the sliver of skin I’m showing is not nearly enough to quench his thirst.

His eyes move to mine, and when he flashes me a grin, I return it.

It’s the first real smile I’ve smiled this week.

“Hard time seeing?” I tease, and his eyes dance with mine.

“Yeah, my nana is in the way,” he calls out, lifting himself off the table. “Nana, see if you can get her to take her pants off.”

Hazel rolls her eyes before looking over at him. “If I have to get a girl to take off her pants for you, then you don’t deserve to see the goods.”

I grin. “Burned, pretty boy.”

Hazel laughs as she taps my hip. “You should let me add some insects, like bees and butterflies.”

Excitement builds in my chest. “I’d love that.”

“Let me design some ideas, and we’ll need to wait a month. With the way my hands are, I can only tattoo once a month.”

She holds out her tatted hands, staring down at them like she’s cursing them. I thread my fingers with hers. Her hands are soft, but I can feel the wrinkles, the knots in her joints. “I’d be honored to have your work on my skin.”

Hazel meets my gaze, love in her eyes as she squeezes my hands. “Such a sweet girl.” She lets go of my hands to turn to Jett. “She’ll be taking your next appointment.”

Jett shrugs. “No big deal. I can wait.”

She pats his chest and then starts to gather her things. Jett watches me, his eyes searching my face, and I look away. An awkward silence falls between us, and it’s suffocating. “Did you know we have a raccoon telenovela playing out in the dumpster out back?” I walk toward the window, where he’s now standing. He turns his body to look down at where I’m pointing.

His voice is full of amusement as he asks, “A raccoon telenovela?”

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