SARAH
Jett’s oversized sportswear hung on my body like a tent. “Let’s get out of here,” Jett said.
The devil himself was acting nice and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. But regardless of his motives, I was still breathing, still intact, and still human. All thanks to him.
His hand found mine with surprising gentleness, fingers intertwining with mine as if we’d done this a thousand times before. The contact of his fingers sent an unexpected jolt through my system. His other hand effortlessly carried my backpack.
When he opened the car door for me, I had to resist the urge to pinch myself. There was no one who couldn't turn a new leaf, but his was just too sudden.
He buckled my seatbelt with his cologne filling my senses as he leaned across me, and I found myself holding my breath un
