Page 19 of The Comeback
Unsaid or not, he scowls, and I think, Here it comes.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking at where I’m scratching my arm. There’s a bump there, like a bug bite, only … they’re all over my arm.
“That’s weird.” I clear my throat again and then swallow.
He reaches for my arm, holding it up to look closer, and heat shoots through me at his tender touch. Then he reaches for my other arm. Like a zombie I hold it up, revealing to us both the patches of hives up and down both arms. I clear my throat again, bringing Jett’s attention back to my face, which feels like it’s on fire.
“Can you breathe okay?” he asks.
I nod slowly. “Yeah, my throat is just a little itchy. Maybe kind of tight. I thought I probably just yelled a lot today.” Or you were making me all hot and bothered. One or the other. I reach again for my drink, but Jett keeps my hand back.
“What’s in this?” he asks Dalton.
Dalton turns from handing a drink over to Colby. “There’s no alcohol. I promised her.” He frowns, and I also catch him biting the inside of his cheek. I don’t blame him. Jett is intimidating. Six-foot-four and 220 pounds makes for a daunting stature. Add in his intensity, and it’s hard to keep eye contact with him during the best of conversations. Dalton has always shrugged it off in the past. They played football together in high school, and he knew Jett well. But Jett’s glare now is definitely unnerving. I don’t blame Dalton for getting nervous.
“What’s in it?” Jett repeats impatiently.
“Jett.” I put my hand on his chest, and boy oh boy, I should not have done that. I’m basically a ball of flames right now that’s about to throw herself into his arms. Playing up whatever’s going on with me sounds like a very good strategy. A wave of dizziness makes me plop back into my chair, and all I can think is, this is good for my act. “Jett,” I repeat, pulling my hand away. “I’m not allergic to anything. You know that.”
Jett huffs. “Colby, do you have Benadryl?”
Colby nods, casting a concerned glance at me before leaving the room.
“Jett—” I protest.
“You’re obviously having an allergic reaction to something.” He turns back to Dalton. “What’s in the drink?”
Dalton starts rattling off ingredients, all things I’m pretty sure I’ve had before: sparkling water, lemon juice, mint syrup, a sprig of mint, pineapple juice. Jett nods, but Dalton doesn’t relax. I can almost see Jett ticking off memories of times we’ve had something together that contains those ingredients, checking for himself.
I try dragging in another breath, but it does seem harder. I lean to one side of the stool, almost falling off before I right myself. Jett takes my arm, pulling me to stand and holding me close to him. I sink into him automatically, my body’s muscle memory reaction to a man who’s shape against me is so familiar. I’m aware enough to notice that he relaxes the tiniest bit as well.
He picks up the bottle of water I was drinking before, sniffs it, and leaves it. He pulls me away from the bar, grabbing another, unopened, bottle of water as we pass the table, and then leads me to the same hallway Colby disappeared down. Gabriella follows us.
I feel more and more dizzy, to the point that Jett is almost carrying me by the time we reach a guest suite. He leads me to the bed and helps me lie down on it. “How are you feeling?” he asks.
I’m dizzy and I think I might be hallucinating the gentleness in his tone. “I’m fine,” I say, but I notice my voice sounds wheezy. Jett’s eyebrows crease even more.
Colby appears in the doorway, holding out a blister packet and another bottle of water. They’re like two hovering Southern mamas as Jett helps me sit back up and Colby pops the Benadryl out of the plastic casing. Gabriella shifts behind them, watching anxiously.
“Chew it up,” Jett says. “It’ll kick in faster.”
I follow his directions, grimacing at the bitter taste and washing it down with several sips of water. It’s so hard to swallow, and I try not to panic. The Benadryl will help, and as I stare at Jett, I know deep, deep within my soul that he will never let anything bad happen to me, no matter what our past is. I can see the conviction in his eyes.
“Should we call 911?” he asks.
I’m feeling really disconnected from this moment, thinking about how tight my throat feels. I start noticing everything about my mouth, actually. My tongue seems twice as big and it’s tingling.
“Gab invited Reeves. I’ll go get him,” Colby says and leaves the room. I don’t know why Reeves can make the decision and the other two can’t, but I close my eyes and focus on drawing breaths in and out.
“Hey, Ava, babe. Stay with me,” Jett murmurs, jostling my shoulder.
“I’m awake. Just concentrating,” I murmur. How can I not be awake when he’s calling me babe? And I can’t decide if my throat is getting tighter from emotion or the allergic reaction.
“Babe,” I repeat in a whisper, letting the way he said it soothe me and keep me grounded. Everything is going to be okay. Jett is here, right by me.
He’s got me. I just know it.
CHAPTER 11