Diving Into Him (17 page)

Lifting a shoulder, he shifted his feet. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” He gave her a wry smile. “
You’re
the patient, you know.”

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. She could always tell him later. Maybe, she mused, he didn’t ever have to know. It wasn’t as if it was
his
body. Still, the look in his eyes when they first found out she was pregnant haunted her. It was as if he had
wanted
it. She bit down on her lip, wondering what his intentions with her had been. Perhaps, from the very beginning, he had envisioned some future where they had a family.

“Deep thoughts in there,” he said, standing. Worry creased his forehead.

“Just wondering how much studio time I’ve lost.” She tried to look guilty.

He shook his head at her. “Promise me you’ll try to rest for at least tonight.”

A smile curled Jett’s lips. “You mean I don’t have to promise for tomorrow?”

He snorted. “I know you way too well. That’ll never happen.”

She propped her hands on her hips. Trying to look as fierce as possible from her current position, she gave him her best glare. “You don’t think I can rest?”

Laughing, he ran a hand through his hair. “I
know
you can’t.”

“If I wasn’t broke, I’d say we could bet on it.” She sighed and nestled back into the bed. “You know, for a hospital bed, this thing isn’t so bad.”

Koty’s eyes burned into hers. “Are you trying to seduce me now? Here?”

“Give me some more drugs, and I can do anything.” She winked.

His eyes bulged. Stuttering, he took a step back. “You just had surgery.”

A giggle escaped her lips before she could go further. “You should see your face.” She stifled another yawn. Dammit, she needed to stay awake. For the first time in forever, things felt normal. She could banter with him without it feeling forced or awkward.

A nurse poked her head into the room. “Visiting hours are almost over.” She disappeared, probably to warn others.

“Nothing kills a moment faster.” Jett forced herself to smile.

“Were we having a moment?” Koty loomed above her, his hands gripping the guardrail.

Her eyelids fluttered. “I think so,” she whispered. Fatigue rolled over her, wrapping her in its warmth.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.” He pressed warm lips to her forehead. “I’ll be here as soon as they let me back in.”

As she drifted off, she heard his footsteps grow farther and farther away. With her last waking thought, she wondered what would happen if Koty knew that she might not be able to have a baby. Then sleep swallowed her completely.

* * * * *

Darkness pressed down on her. The steady beep of the monitor drifted around her. Jett stared up at the dark ceiling, a hand pressed to her throbbing pelvis. With her free hand, she pressed the call button. Surgery was the only time it was ever appropriate to ask for more drugs, she mused as she waited.

A nurse slipped into the room. “What can I do for you, honey?” She waved a thermometer over Jett’s forehead and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. It squeezed her bicep to the point where it almost hurt.

“Pain is back,” Jett rasped.

The nurse patted her arm. “I’ll get you more dilaudid.”

“Got anything stronger?” Jett laughed so the nurse knew she was joking. Even if it was okay to ask for more, there was a fine line. Given her history, anyone in the hospital could easily assume that she had a drug problem, too.

As the warmth flushed through her veins and the pain ebbed again, Jett snuggled back into her bed. She wondered what would happen if she had to get out of bed quickly. She doubted she could walk on her own. So far, the few times that she had needed to use the bathroom, someone had to help her. It would probably be a while before she could get back into the studio. She sighed.

More importantly, she wondered how she was going to manage once she got home. She wondered if she could even call the condo her home anymore. Koty probably just felt responsible for her, like a teenage boy who accidentally knocked up his one-night stand. She yawned, eyes closing. For as long as she had known him, she had done nothing but hurt him and push him away. She wondered if they could be happy, if she gave him a chance.

Jett watched as her nurse flushed her IV. Saline and air flushed her blood back into her veins, where it belonged. She nodded in satisfaction. It didn’t seem right, that her blood could be so unruly. One of her men—Griff, maybe—would argue that of
course
her blood was rebellious.

A bouquet of flowers peeked around the corner, followed by Koty. She lifted her eyebrows. He marched in, holding the flowers in front of him like a shield.

“I wasn’t sure which ones were your favorite.” He looked down at the pure white daisies. Heat spread across his cheeks. “I don’t even know if you
like
flowers.”

Chuckling, she held her hands out for them. “They’re perfect.”

As soon as he passed them over, his arms dropped. He shifted from foot to foot.

“I’ll go get you a vase,” the nurse said with a smile. She hurried out of the room.

“Thank you.” Jett made herself look into Koty’s eyes. Gently, she set the bouquet down on her empty tray.

He lifted his shoulders to his ears and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I brought cards, too.”

She breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” She jerked a thumb toward the TV. “If I have to watch one more episode of small claims court, I’m going to climb out of the window.”

Koty gaped at her.

“Bad joke.” She patted the bed. “Have you ever played Gin Rummy?” She tried not to look like her heart was in her throat as he sat next to her. He was so close, she could feel the warmth from his skin.

Koty shook his head. “Any chance you have the patience to teach me?” He winked and handed her a pack of cards.

Swatting him, she narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to say I’m impatient?” She shuffled the cards. They made a satisfying
snap
as they slapped against each other. With a grin, she started dealing. It had been ages since she did the bridge. “My father taught me how to play.”

He said nothing, blue eyes watching her intently.

“Did you ever play cards with your parents?” She set the remainder of the deck between them and turned a card over. Hoping that the small talk would warm her up for what she really wanted to say to him, she fanned her cards out. She twisted her lips. She didn’t have much to work with.

Shaking his head, he mimicked her. “I grew up in foster care.”

Her eyes bulged. She nearly dropped her hand of cards. “You?” she sputtered.

He shrugged. “My mother was an alcoholic.”

“What about your dad?” Jett struggled to keep her voice calm. “You’ve got to try to make a sequence of seven, or four of a kind, etcetera.” She took the first turn, demonstrating. Chewing on her lip, she drew a card from the upside down deck.

Koty shrugged again. “Never met him.”

Her eyes snapped up to his face. “Never?” She glanced at her cards quickly, then discarded. “Your turn.”

He hesitated, hand hovering over the discard pile.

“Koty Jackson, strapped for words.” Her lips quirked, but she didn’t smile.

“It’s not that.” He dropped his hands into his lap. “No one ever asked.”

Blinking, she considered his words. She knew so little about him, she realized. It seemed crazy to think that they could ever be in a relationship. “I’m asking.” She kept her voice light.

“What do you want to know?” He selected a card, trading one of his own.

“You’re catching on quick,” she mused. She studied her own cards, buying time. It looked like the only conversations they were going to have were going to be hard. So much for small talk. “What happened to your mom?”

His face slipped into a mask she had never seen. “I don’t know.”

“If you don’t want to talk about this,” she said, drawing from the fresh pile, “I can pretend to be impatient with you while you kick my ass at this.”

Koty shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” His eyes met hers. “It’s just hard to talk about.”

She nodded. She had been too young to remember much when she lost her own mother. “How old were you when you went into foster care?”

“Fifteen, almost sixteen, I think.” He spread his hand of cards on the blanket. His hand brushed her leg. Electricity jumped through her. She swallowed hard. “Does this count as a sequence?”

Pressing her lips together, she peered at the cards. “Yeah.” She glanced around the small room for a pad of paper.

“We don’t
have
to keep score, you know,” he said, touching her leg.

She froze. Her heart rammed into her ribs again and again. “Okay,” she breathed. Clearing her throat, she collected the cards for reshuffling. “So, what was foster care like?”

“Hell.” The same mask slipped over his face.

She frowned. Reaching over, she touched his knee. “What happened?”

Dropping his cards, he took her hands in his, twining fingers. “It’s not important. You need to focus on feeling better.”

She slanted him a cool look. “I
feel
fine. They keep giving me drugs.” She winked, then her expression turned serious. Squeezing his hands, she scooted closer. She glanced down at their hands for a second. It was as if, in the face of emergency, they had dropped all pretense. Every bit of awkwardness had slipped away. She wondered how long it would last. “You can tell me. I wanna know, if you want to talk about it.”

He sighed. “Okay.” Releasing her hands, he ran fingers through his hair. “Okay,” he said again. “But you have to promise not to get all freaked out. I’m not, like, broken or anything.”

She smirked. “I would actually feel a lot better about myself if you had more deep, dark secrets. It would balance things out a bit.”

“My foster parents had a lot of kids, but none of them were biologically related to them. I think they were just in it for the money.” He looked out the window as he spoke. “I didn’t get beaten or anything. They just weren’t exactly nurturing.”

“So you left as soon as you hit eighteen,” she guessed.

He nodded and drew a card.

“And pursued music.” She tapped her chin, wondering if she would have treated him differently if she had known how important music was to him.

“I tried to tell you I wasn’t just some pretty boy.” He winked.

Her lips twitched into a smile as she remembered the first time they met, backstage at a taping of
Late Nite with Maz
. She had been too proud to consider that the Koty Jackson standing in front of her back then was just as passionate about making music as she was. “I’m stubborn.” She drew her knees to her chest.

He watched as the hospital gown rode up on her hips, exposing her legs. “Yes.” His eyes roamed her bare skin. A shiver rode her spine.

She pulled the blanket into place. Even if they were at a temporary truce, she needed to focus. “Did L.A.B. Records know you were in foster care?”

“Are you kidding?” His eyes snapped up to her face. Only the red spreading across his cheeks revealed his thoughts. “They thought it was a great angle, and figured I could be the bad boy. Then they cast Johnny Z.”

“You
are
the bad boy,” she said before she could stop herself.

Their eyes met. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other. Then Koty looked away, rubbing the back of his head.

“I still can’t believe you were in a boy band,” she said, scanning her Gin Rummy hand.

“Playing bars and street corners only gets you so far in New York.” His gaze drifted out the window. She assumed he was thinking about the streets that he grew up on.

“Would your mom recognize you, if she saw you on TV?” Jett tugged her hair into a ponytail. She didn’t want to know how she looked. She was sure her makeup was a mess, her hair ratty and in need of a brush.

“Good question.” He tapped her facedown cards. “Are we still playing?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. It wasn’t as if she was winning.

He displayed his hand. “Four of a kind.”

She stared. After a moment, she straightened. “You’re a brat.”

Laughing, he scooped the cards into a pile. “We can play something else.”

She shook her head. “No way. I have to redeem myself.” Besides, she mused, she needed something to keep her hands busy while she figured out how to tell him how she felt. Knowing that he had never had a family didn’t make it any easier. She thought again of the expression on his face when the emergency room staff told her that she was pregnant and the look on his face when they added that things wouldn’t work out. He had looked stricken. In less than two seconds, he had decided that he was going to take full responsibility. He may have even been excited, she realized.

He touched her knee. “You okay?” His blue eyes searched hers.

Those eyes, she realized, would haunt her until the end of time if she didn’t at least try. Even if she had never had plans for a family, it was obvious how much Koty wanted one—and that he wanted one with
her
. She had spent years abusing herself. Maybe it was time to step back and allow herself to be happy. She took a deep breath.

Loud voices poured in from the hall, followed by Griff, Perry, and Max. Jett groaned. The men filed in and surrounded her bed.

“Did you do this?” she asked Koty.

Clearing his throat, he leapt from the bed and took several steps back.

She glared at him.

Before she could say anything else, Griff gave her a small wave. “How are you feeling?” He remained several feet away, though.

Her eyes narrowed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Koty shake his head at her—he hadn’t told them. “Very contagious?” She smiled.

Max took two long steps back. He held up his hands. “Sorry. I’ve got a kid.”

“No offense taken.” She glanced from face to face. “Why are you guys here, if you don’t wanna get sick?”

Perry flipped his dreads over a shoulder. “Koty told us that part of our job was coming here and making you smile,” he purred. “I can show you something that might make you smile.” He gave her a wink.

She pursed her lips and threw him a flat look. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“Is it because I’m black?” He crossed his arms. “Because I assure you, I’d be the best you’ve ever had.”

The other men turned to look at him.

Jett blinked. “No,” she said slowly. “It’s because I like my men more subtle.”

Perry glanced at Koty. “Is that it?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

She bit down on her lip. Saying anything would only incriminate her more. Besides, it no longer mattered whether anyone knew about her and Koty. If she was going to give him a chance, she needed to be open with everyone.

“So, crazy bug, huh?” Max jerked a thumb toward her IV and saline bag.

She hoped that none of the hospital staff came in to do vitals and check her stitches anytime soon.

“Or did you eat something bad?” Perry wrinkled his nose. “I had food poisoning once. I almost died.”

“All you need to know,” she said, “is that as soon as I get out of here, we’re heading right back into the studio.”

Groans rippled through the room. She smirked in satisfaction.

Perry lifted a hand. “I’m suddenly feeling the need to get out and enjoy my time off.” He sauntered out of the room.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta get home and help Savannah with dinner.” Max gave Jett a sheepish grin.

She lifted her eyebrows at him, wondering if that was just code for more fun antics. Under her gaze, he reddened. With a final wave, he hurried out. She laughed.

Griff shook his head at her. “You’re evil.” He sat down in the single visitor’s chair. “So how are you
really
feeling?” He studied her face.

She resisted the urge to squirm. “Fantastic.”

“What I mean is,” he said, holding up a hand, “you’re in a hospital. You haven’t been in one since—well, it can’t be easy to be here.”

“Phillip.” She said his name like a prayer.

Griff nodded. “So are you okay?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Koty ease toward the hall. “I’m breathing.”

“Gotta make a phone call,” Koty said. Before she could object, he slipped out of the room.

She slumped back against the pillows, wishing that it was Griff making an excuse to give her and Koty some privacy. At the rate things were going, she was never going to be able to tell him.

She felt Griff’s eyes burning into her. She dragged her attention back to him and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He crossed his arms. “Convince me to not be concerned.”

“Why does everyone assume that every time I’m sick, it’s because I’m drinking?” She glared at him and mimed his pose. Though she truly couldn’t blame him for his suspicions, there was no way that she could tell him the truth. As messed up as it might be, she kind of liked that she and Koty were living in their own intimate little bubble. The second she let anyone else in, it was over. She trusted Griff—he knew more about her than anyone else—but he wouldn’t understand. The entire situation was weird, she surmised. No one on any level of sanity grieved losing a pregnancy that they didn’t even want or plan in the first place—a pregnancy doomed from the start.

Griff held up his hands. “Fine,” he said. “If you say this has nothing to do with drinking, I trust you.” Still, he watched her with eyes narrowed.

She leaned back into the bed. Her shoulders remained tense. She scooped up the cards, eyes watching them too closely while she shuffled.

“What’s going on with you and Koty?” Griff leaned forward, propping his chin on his fists.

“You’re too fucking nosy for your own good.” Jett slid the cards into their box and slapped it down on her tray.

Griff shrugged. “I’d call it observant. Are you two back together?”

She sighed. “To get back together, you’d have to have been dating in the first place.” Her eyes met Griff’s. “Why? Did he say something?” She tried to ignore the way her heart flipped in her chest and fluttered against her ribcage. It seemed impossible that Koty would want anything more to do with her. Still, hope wrapped its tendrils around her heart. She swallowed hard.

Griff only shrugged again. “Just another observation.” He jerked a thumb toward the deck of cards. “You too seemed awfully cozy in here. The other day, you couldn’t even be in the same room together.”

She started to say
That’s love for you
, then caught herself. Clearing her throat, she reached for the bottle of water on the tray. No longer cold, it still offered a distraction as she swallowed gulp after gulp down. “We’re figuring things out,” she said as she twisted the cap back on.