Read Online Believe in Me (Jett #1) by Amy Sparling - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Amy Sparling
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“Not really. I didn’t feel like getting drunk and that kind of stuff isn’t fun when you’re sober. Plus, some jackass broke my friend’s heart and she wouldn’t tell me who, so it’s been bothering me all night.”
“You’re a good friend,” I say, hating myself for the confession. I’m trying to uphold this emotionless bitch vibe, if only to protect my own real emotions. I hate that he’s seeing me like this, knowing that I’m homeless and pathetic. God, I hate this so much.
We reach his truck, this massive four door Chevy that’s taller than usual thanks to the huge tires. Jett beeps his keys and then rushes to open the passenger door for me. Either he’s being chivalrous or he thinks I’m going to scratch the door trying to get inside this thing.
“Not rich, huh?” I say with a snort as I climb into the truck, using the handle inside the door to lift myself up into the black leather seat. The interior smells like a brand new car, something I haven’t smelled in a long time.
Jett stands there, a little shorter than me now that he’s on the ground and I’m sitting up in the truck. His arm holds the door open and I try not to look at the way his bicep flexes beneath his shirt. Motocross guys must work out a lot.
“It was a gift,” he says with a smirk. “For my sixteenth birthday.”
“I got an ice cream cake for mine,” I say, thinking back to the day Dawn brought it home from the ice cream shop she’d taken a part time job at since craft fair sales were slow. I’m pretty sure she stole it.
Jett studies me and I lift an eyebrow. “You gonna close the door?” I say, but it doesn’t have as much venom as I’d like. He’s really, really cute. Ugh.
Finally, he closes it and I watch him shake his head as he walks around the front of the truck to the driver’s side. It’s as if he can’t figure me out. I grin. Good. No one needs to figure me out, because once they do, they’ll realize there’s nothing special about me at all. It’s like my existence on this earth was all by accident. My biggest fear is that people will figure that out.
*
Jett cuts the lights as he turns into his long driveway, then he pulls over to the far right of their three car garage and parks outside of it. “Garage door is too loud,” he says. “Might wake them up.”
“Do you normally get home this late?” I ask, glancing the digital clock on the dashboard. It’s nearly two in the morning.
He shrugs. “Yeah. They don’t care, they just don’t like getting woken up. Dad always says there’s no real trouble to get into in a town this small. Mom just makes me swear to her like once a week that I won’t get a girl pregnant.”
He laughs and I nod. “That’s probably a good idea. I was an unexpected surprise for my mom and that didn’t really work out so well.”
“Yeah?” Jett says, his face shadowed from the glow of the motion light on the corner of their garage. “So was I, but think it turned out okay.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Are those your real parents?”
“Yep. They got married right before I was born and they’re still happy to this day.”
“Hmm,” I say, gazing at his beautiful face. “I guess some people really do have fairy tale endings.”
He shrugs and his gaze darkens a little bit . . . or maybe I’m just imagining it. “Ready?” he says.
I swallow down the tidal wave of nervous butterflies that erupt in my stomach and follow him to the back door.
He punches a passcode into the door’s keypad and it opens up, and then he immediately turns to the house alarm panel on the wall inside of the kitchen and shuts that off as well.
House alarms are definitely things rich people have. I’ve never seen one in my life until now.
Jett smiles mischievously and then puts a finger to his lips, motioning for me to be quiet. Then he takes my hand and pulls me into the house.
All I can think about is the fact that he’s holding my hand as he meanders through the
“You’re a good friend,” I say, hating myself for the confession. I’m trying to uphold this emotionless bitch vibe, if only to protect my own real emotions. I hate that he’s seeing me like this, knowing that I’m homeless and pathetic. God, I hate this so much.
We reach his truck, this massive four door Chevy that’s taller than usual thanks to the huge tires. Jett beeps his keys and then rushes to open the passenger door for me. Either he’s being chivalrous or he thinks I’m going to scratch the door trying to get inside this thing.
“Not rich, huh?” I say with a snort as I climb into the truck, using the handle inside the door to lift myself up into the black leather seat. The interior smells like a brand new car, something I haven’t smelled in a long time.
Jett stands there, a little shorter than me now that he’s on the ground and I’m sitting up in the truck. His arm holds the door open and I try not to look at the way his bicep flexes beneath his shirt. Motocross guys must work out a lot.
“It was a gift,” he says with a smirk. “For my sixteenth birthday.”
“I got an ice cream cake for mine,” I say, thinking back to the day Dawn brought it home from the ice cream shop she’d taken a part time job at since craft fair sales were slow. I’m pretty sure she stole it.
Jett studies me and I lift an eyebrow. “You gonna close the door?” I say, but it doesn’t have as much venom as I’d like. He’s really, really cute. Ugh.
Finally, he closes it and I watch him shake his head as he walks around the front of the truck to the driver’s side. It’s as if he can’t figure me out. I grin. Good. No one needs to figure me out, because once they do, they’ll realize there’s nothing special about me at all. It’s like my existence on this earth was all by accident. My biggest fear is that people will figure that out.
*
Jett cuts the lights as he turns into his long driveway, then he pulls over to the far right of their three car garage and parks outside of it. “Garage door is too loud,” he says. “Might wake them up.”
“Do you normally get home this late?” I ask, glancing the digital clock on the dashboard. It’s nearly two in the morning.
He shrugs. “Yeah. They don’t care, they just don’t like getting woken up. Dad always says there’s no real trouble to get into in a town this small. Mom just makes me swear to her like once a week that I won’t get a girl pregnant.”
He laughs and I nod. “That’s probably a good idea. I was an unexpected surprise for my mom and that didn’t really work out so well.”
“Yeah?” Jett says, his face shadowed from the glow of the motion light on the corner of their garage. “So was I, but think it turned out okay.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Are those your real parents?”
“Yep. They got married right before I was born and they’re still happy to this day.”
“Hmm,” I say, gazing at his beautiful face. “I guess some people really do have fairy tale endings.”
He shrugs and his gaze darkens a little bit . . . or maybe I’m just imagining it. “Ready?” he says.
I swallow down the tidal wave of nervous butterflies that erupt in my stomach and follow him to the back door.
He punches a passcode into the door’s keypad and it opens up, and then he immediately turns to the house alarm panel on the wall inside of the kitchen and shuts that off as well.
House alarms are definitely things rich people have. I’ve never seen one in my life until now.
Jett smiles mischievously and then puts a finger to his lips, motioning for me to be quiet. Then he takes my hand and pulls me into the house.
All I can think about is the fact that he’s holding my hand as he meanders through the
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