Home > For Real (Rules of Love #1)(12)

For Real (Rules of Love #1)(12)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“We should probably get to sleep,” I say, adjusting my pillow.

“Yeah, you’re right. Goodnight,” Jett says, reaching out and touching the side of my face. It’s not incidental contact, but I’m going to let it slide.

“Goodnight. Sleep well.” He smiles and then moves onto his side, facing me, and closes his eyes. I do the same, but open my eyes a moment later. His are still closed. In the dim green light of my clock, I can study him without it being weird.

Or maybe watching someone while they sleep is weird. Yeah, it’s weird. I close my eyes again and try to get to sleep.

I’m awoken by a bang in the kitchen and then a loud voice cursing. Hazel is home.

I open my eyes and the first thing I see is Jett. Usually when I fall asleep, I stay in that position and don’t move. The boy on my floor, however, is no longer on his side. He’s on his back, with all of his limbs flung out. Almost like he’d fallen backwards onto the mattress with a splat. I lean over and watch him for a minute, then run my fingers through my hair to fix it because it’s probably fabulous right now. But it’s nothing compared to Jett’s. His is all over the place, just like his body.

There’s another crash and I glare at the door, as if I’m glaring at Hazel. It’s only seven in the morning. So much for sleeping in. I hate to wake Jett, but if we’re going to put on a performance of post-coital bliss, we’ve got to get cracking.

“Jett? Jett.” I touch his shoulder gently and the reaction I get isn’t what I’m expecting.

One of his hands flies up and punches me right in the eye.

“Oh my God!” I fall back against my pillows and grip my face. He missed my actual eye and sort of got my cheekbone. After I open and close my eye a couple times, I decide it isn’t that bad. I just hope it doesn’t bruise.

“What happened?” Jett’s face pops up from behind the edge of my bed.

“Uh, you punched me. What a way to wake up. I’d rather have coffee,” I say, poking at my cheek. “I think it startled me more than anything.”

“Shit, I am so sorry. Let me see,” he reaches for my face, and at first I want to pull away, but I stay still so he can see it.

“It’s a little red, but I don’t think it’ll leave a mark. Good thing I didn’t get you in the eye, or you might have a shiner. I am so sorry. I should have warned you that I have a tendency to lash out if you try to wake me. But I guess you know that now.”

“Yup.” I think he’s making light of it, but his hands are gentle as he probes the side of my face to make sure he didn’t do any damage.

“I’m sorry, princess.” I’m about to tell him he just violated a rule, but he uses the edge of my mattress to pull himself up and plant a quick kiss on my cheek.

“There. All better.” He grins at me and then springs to his feet. Ugh, I hate morning people.

“Rule violator,” I say as I glare at him. He comes and sits next to me on my bed.

“Your hair looks fabulous right now, Shan.” He ruffles my hair and I dive for his mohawk, mussing it with my fingers. Then he goes for my ribs and starts tickling me. Oh hell no.

“Stop it!” I shriek.

My door bangs open and from my vantage point, I see Hazel’s jegging-clad legs.

“Well, hello there.” She says as Jett and I freeze mid-tickle. He recovers quicker than I do and springs up to introduce himself to Hazel.

“Nice to see you again,” she says, and it reminds me of meeting Javier. “Can I get you some breakfast?” None of us have an early class today, which is good, and means we have time to eat and take a little nap beforehand. I’ve only got two classes, but then I have to work tonight. Why had I decided to go to the party last night?

“Yeah, thanks. That would be great. Do you need any help?” Hazel gives me a quick look and then focuses her attention back on Jett.

“She needs all the help she can get,” I say, getting up and moving past both of them to see what Hazel is pretending to make.

Just as I suspected. Frozen waffles.

I shake my head and take the waffles and put them in the toaster, then go to the fridge. I may or may not have bought a ton of food just for Jett, so he didn’t have to deal with any of Hazel’s cooking, or our normal fare of Ramen and boxed macaroni and cheese. I also may have blown my budget for two weeks on said food. Fake Dating is expensive.

I get the eggs and bacon started and realize that Jett and Hazel have been gone for a really long time. I turn down the burners and sneak back to my bedroom.

They’re talking, but their voices are too low for me to hear properly. I lean closer and it hits me, far too late, that the door isn’t closed. I lean too far over and lose my balance, crashing headfirst through the door and onto the floor.

“Oh my God!” Hazel shrieks, and clutches her chest as if to keep her heart inside it.

Jett is a little more quick on the uptake. He’s down on the floor immediately, helping me up.

“You okay there, princess?” The nickname is allowed in this situation. I struggle to get back on my feet

“I, um, just wanted to see if you wanted, uh, bacon.” I sound SOOO convincing.

“Yeah, I love bacon. Who doesn’t?” he says, not letting go of me when he’s got me on my feet again. This contact is also allowed, and I’m kind of glad for it.

“My feelings exactly,” I say, my skin tingling from every place it’s in contact with his. Hazel clears her throat.

“Bacon,” I say to remember what I’d been thinking about a second ago.

“Bacon,” Jett says.

Chapter 9

Hazel goes to sleep for a few hours and Jett heads back to his house to shower and so forth. I’ve got to do the same, and get going on some more homework.

Thanks for breakfast. Next time it’s on me. See you tonight?

I get giddy just from those few words. I can’t hear his voice or see his face, but I can still feel him. I find myself biting my lip and wanting to skip and frolic and twirl like Julie Andrews.

See you tonight. Figuring out what to say in the return text takes me at least ten minutes. I know. Ridiculous.

I’m almost disgusted by myself. I am not this girl. The Fake Dating is really getting to my head.

I’m grateful to go to class. The minute my feet step into a classroom, I feel like I’m home. When the professor asks a question, I know the answer almost before he’s done asking. I lose myself in facts and history and figures and lines and things that I know. Things I am good at. I never feel more confident and sure of myself than when I’m answering a question in class.

Yes, I’m a freak. I don’t know anyone else who actually gets giddy about tests, or papers. I am a certified weirdo.

Jett texts me throughout the day, and every time, my heart leaps a little, and the butterflies start rocking out in my stomach.

“Wow, you are in a good mood today,” Amelia says when I come into work. I put my hand up to my face and find that I’m smiling.

“Just had a good weekend.” I decide not to go into the Fake Dating with Amelia. It seems almost wrong. We don’t talk that much about our personal lives, but we’re still really close.

I get to work on the stack of files I hadn’t finished the other day. Normally when I’m working on something mundane, my mind wanders and I think about all kinds of things. Today, I have a one-track mind.

Jett, Jett, Jett. Jetty-Jetty Jettson. Leaving on a Jett plane.

A hand taps me on the shoulder and I nearly jump out of my skin. It’s my boss, Gillian. As in with a hard G. She definitely isn’t my favorite person in the world, but she leaves me alone for the most part, so I haven’t ever had a confrontation with her.

“Hi, how are you?” I say, quickly glancing at my desk to make sure it’s clear. I’m a little obsessive about my workspace being organized, but Gillian is worse. People have gotten nailed for having inappropriate signs on their desks, and one woman had a picture of her husband shirtless and had gotten in BIG trouble.

“I’m well, Shannon, how are you doing?” We exchange the traditional office small talk, but I know she’d sought me out for a reason. Either I’m doing something bad or something good. I can’t imagine what I could get in trouble for, but who knew with Gillian.

“So how are things going?” she says, and there’s more behind the question.

“Things are going great. I’m hoping to get to the midway point with the loan files by the end of this week.” Which is ahead of schedule, but I don’t say that part.

“Well, that’s wonderful. Keep up the good work. When you get through that, come and find me and I’ll get you set up with another project so you don’t get too burned out.” With a quick and insincere smile she’s off. I breathe a huge sigh of relief and then Amelia peeks her head around the edge of my cubicle.

“What did she say?” she whispers. I motion her into my cubicle. I’m not going to say anything that anyone could run back to Gillian and use against me. These walls have snitchy ears.

“Oh nothing, she just wanted to tell me to keep up the good work and that she’s going to give me another project when I get halfway done with the loan files.”

“Sounds like fun.” Yeah, fun is exactly what it’s going to be. It’s probably going to be awful, which is why she came and told me about it ahead of time. More often than not, the projects that I get handed are things other people don’t want to do, so they get passed off to the bottom of the totem pole. Luckily, there are more than a few of us, but it’s a huge bank and there are ALWAYS new projects that the higher-ups don’t want to do.

“So I also came over because I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out to dinner tonight?” It’s astounding, but Amelia doesn’t have a lot of friends. I think it’s because they think all her happiness and positivity are fake, but they’re really not. I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to be around her, but what are you gonna do?

“I’d love to. Want to go to Tony’s?” It’s our favorite Italian/Greek pace to eat in Deermont. Okay, so it’s the ONLY Italian/Greek place to eat in Deermont. But even if there were a hundred such places, it would still be the best.

“Ooohh, it’s been at least a week since I’ve been there. I need some baklava. Like, right now.” She claps her hands and does a little twirl.

“Cool. We’re on.” I give her a thumbs up and she bounces back to her cubicle. I don’t take out my phone and text Jett because using your phone during working hours gets you an invitation to the snake pit below Gillian’s office, so I sneak into the bathroom and send him a quick text that I’ll be late.

“Aw, poor thing. You’ve been hit by smitten.” It takes me all of five minutes to cave and tell Amelia about Jett. I don’t tell her about the Fake Dating, of course, but I end up gushing about him. It’s kind of impossible not to.

“It sucks,” I mumble before I snatch a piece of garlic bread and dunk it in marinara and shove it in my mouth.

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