Page 27 of Chasing the Flame
He moves closer, his body pressing up against mine and sending a bolt of heat straight to my core. I lick my lips, nervously fidgeting under his steady gaze. He doesn’t close the last bit of distance between us, just raises a hand to the side of my face, pushing several strands ofhair behind my ear. “Now, you’ve had your drink. Wanna talk to me about what’s bothering you?” The words are like a punch to the gut, exactly the stroke of reason I needed.
I move, shifting away from him to put some much-needed distance between us. He’s getting too familiar, and I can’t afford to let my guard down. Yet, something tells me with Jettson, there are no walls that he won’t dismantle. “I’m not sure you’ll believe me unless I show you.”
“Okay, I’ll bite.” The words are honey-tipped, wrapped in an innuendo that has me clenching my thighs together. His deep chuckle is like a siren call, pulling me in like the tide. I coulddrownin it.
He grabs my hand, pulling me away from the island counter. “Where to?”
Sighing, I let go of his hand, leading the way to the grand staircase in the foyer. Tossing a cursory glance over my shoulder, I notice that Jettson is right behind me, his gaze reassuring albeit slightly curious. Our footsteps are soft against the hardwood, and as we go down the hall, I’m filled with the same sense of unease as before.
We stop just outside the bedroom door, my hand trembling as I reach for the doorknob but with Jettson behind me, I don’t hesitate. I immediately enter the room and head straight for the bookshelf along the right wall. My fingers quickly find the groove, and with a soft click, the bookshelf moves aside to reveal the scene I saw.
Jettson sucks in a sharp breath, and I whirl at the sound, surprised to see something like disbelief glinting in his eyes. He moves around me, scoping out the entire scene. My gaze travels to the top of the hidden room, taking in the cobweb tendrils that seem to reach for the altar. A shiver runs down my spine, another sense of foreboding wreaking havoc on my nervous system.
Jettson touches nothing, not even the books on the desk in the corner of the small room. He only looks, taking in each item in stoic silence.
After several moments, he turns to me, “When did you discover this?” There’s an edge to his voice, like he’s wrestling with his own fear.
“Yesterday, after Luke left for New York.”
“He’ll be coming back… when, exactly?”
“Monday, but—wait, what does that have to do with anything?”
He swears, pacing back and forth in the small space. “I need to talk to my father. Will you be home tomorrow?” His expression is guarded, and I can feel anger bubbling underneath his calm demeanor. The thought smacks me, and I wonder just how the fuck I knew that?
“Yeah, but—”
“Good, I’ll swing by tomorrow after I talk to my dad. Averie, this goes without saying, stay the fuck away from this room. Don’t come back here. Your scent is all over the place, and if that wasn’t enough, your energy signature is off the charts.”
“Jettson, what the fuck are you talking about?!” I shout the words at him, confusion and frustration weaving through my chest.
“I can’t explain right now, I need to be sure before I even go there. Just, trust me, please?” His expression is all sincerity, and despite everything, Idotrust Jettson.
“I do trust you,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to the floor at the admission. He crosses the space between us, his fingers gently lifting my chin so that I’m forced to meet his gaze. What I find there, in the cerulean and verdant depths of his gaze, leaves me breathless. It's raw emotion, real, and tangible, confusing me even more than I already was.
“Thank you, I promise I’ll be back first thing in the morning, and then…I’ll tell you everything.” His words are hushed, his thumb grazing my bottom lip. Sucking in a sharp breath, I force myself to hold his gaze, and to believe him when he says he’ll return with answers.
The moment he steps away, the heat dissipates, and I’m left bereft with wanting. Turning, he slides the bookshelf back in place before grabbing my hand and leading me back down the hall.
Once we return down the stairs, he turns, removes his phone from his back pocket, and quickly unlocks the screen. ”Punch in your number,” he says, nodding once in encouragement when I stall.
“But, why?” I ask, curiosity compelling me.
“You’re alone, in a strange town. Just...put your number in my phone, Averie.”
His tone is gentle but firm, giving me the reassurance I need. Without a second thought, I punch in my digits, glancing up to see Jettson smiling in approval. His praise, even unspoken, does something to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll text you so you have my number. Call me at the first sign of trouble.”
I nod at him, not trusting myself to speak, watching as he leaves through the front door. A minute or two later, my phone chimes signaling a text message from an unknown number. Grinning, I pull out my phone, fully expecting to see a text with Jettson’s name.
What I see instead stops me in my tracks, my blood running cold.
Unknown:Tut tut, you’ve been naughty. Does Luke know you had a friend over?
My fingers shake, nervous energy skittering through my body at a rapid pace. Before I could think better of it, I hit send, waiting with bated breath for a response.
Me:Who is this?
Unknown:A friend…
