Again I nodded. “It’s okay. Danielle stayed with him until I got there.”
“That’s good. She’s a good girl.” Mama’s eyes searched my face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
She touched my head with her hand. “You look tired, honey.”
I shrugged. “No rest for the wicked.”
She bent to kiss my head. “Get some sleep,” she said before she left the room. I cradled Cody close and tried to do just that, but my mind raced. I was once again smacked right in the face with my own limitations.
It was the main reason I couldn’t quit Southern Nights, no matter how much I may have wanted to. I’d have to pull up my big girl panties and learn how to say no… to Gaynell, to Jacinda…and especially to Jonah Riley.
By the time I went back to Southern Nights that following Thursday, Cody had licked his infection and was back to his bubbly, happy self. I felt more in control, too, though I was still apprehensive to see Jonah again. His face began to infiltrate my dreams. I had to check my own temperature by Wednesday, to ensure I wasn’t the one with a fever.
I arrived before he did, so I got right to work on the new set. I was startled to find Jonah descending the stairs from Gaynell’s office. He spotted me but didn’t approach at first. Instead he stopped by the bar to get a beer. I scowled at his choice of beverage. I didn’t want to deal with drunk musicians. I had my fill of that when I was a kid.
As I watched him, though, it wasn’t the liquor that bothered me. Jacinda smiled wide as she leaned across the counter to flirt with him, like I had seen her flirt with dozens of other men. He grinned at her, that same lopsided smile that left me weak in the knees. Jacinda looked my direction with a smirk. I glowered at her before I went back to the music, keeping them both in my peripheral vision. The more they laughed, the closer they talked, the madder I got. A few minutes later, Jonah approached the stage. He had two bottles of water in his hands, one of which he offered to me. I turned away from him.
My mood continued to sour during practice. He was a perfect gentleman, never questioning me, never challenging me. He just dutifully played whatever music I put in front of him like the perfect Boy Scout that he was. At least, that’s how he behaved until the crowd arrived and the lights dimmed. The second our set started, he was pure sex on stage. He flirted with the female fans in the front row and they just ate it up. He pulled no punches. He’d wink or serenade them, standing over them so they could get a good glimpse at the bulge in those skin-tight jeans.
It only reminded me how it felt to be in his arms, or alone in his company, when I was the only woman in the world. I got angrier and more frustrated, which showed in my performance. I stalked that stage, ready to kick the ass of anyone who got in my way. When I was done, I kicked over the mic stand. Loud, obnoxious feedback reverberated through the place as I trotted off stage.
He was quick on my heels, muscling into the dressing room behind me, as dark and ominous as a thundercloud. “What the fuck was that?”
“That was me,” I told him. “That’s who I am as an artist.”
“Bullshit. That’s who you are as a spoiled little brat.”
I stared at him, open-mouthed. “Fuck you!”
He held out his arms. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
It was all I wanted to do, but all I shouldn’t do. So I did the only thing I could. I swung at him.
He caught me easily, which only pissed me off even more. I swung again, which he also caught. He curled both arms behind my back, which landed me flush against his hard body. I gasped softly as my eyes dropped to that sensual mouth, now framed by the beard he was growing.
He lifted me up his body until we were face to face. “So tell me, Princess. Are you pissed I’m in the band? Or are you pissed that the ladies love me in the band?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was such a guy thing to say. Like I was jealous. As if. “You’re certainly full of yourself. Ace.”
He chuckled as he studied my face. “You still haven’t told me I’m wrong.”
His fingers tightened around each wrist, holding me closer. I felt his body respond. I struggled to get away from him before I kissed that damnable mouth that I had dreamt about for days. “Let me go, you asshole.”
Our eyes locked and held. He stared so intently and so deeply that I felt my resolve crumble instantly. “Jonah,” I said softly, hoping he’d take mercy on me.
Instead he crushed his mouth on mine in an angry, possessive kiss. I trembled beneath him as my mouth opened and his tongue invaded my mouth. He released my arms, but instead of pulling away, I locked my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. I arched my back to inch as close as I could get. We slammed against the wall. The party raged outside those walls, but I didn’t care. Despite all reason and all logic, I wanted this man. I wanted him in a way I had never wanted anyone. With Tony Paul, I had been a nervous girl.
In Jonah’s arms, I was all woman.
I shoved his shirt up that delicious chest until I tore it over his head and discarded it. My fingers spanned across his tanned, toned chest, so solid and real under my hands. He returned the favor, tearing away the T-shirt I was wearing underneath that damnable corset. His eyes were clouded with desire as he looked at my creamy white cleavage, exposed for his eyes only. With a groan, he buried himself into my neck. I grabbed a fistful of his hair when he hit that sensitive spot by my ear, his teeth taking playful nips out of my skin.
Like a man possessed, he carried me the remaining distance to the couch, where we landed on the soft leather sofa. I folded him securely in my arms, wrapping my legs around him and drawing him closer as I reached for another kiss. He ran his hands through my hair as he kissed me deeply, matching my hunger, heartbeat by heartbeat.
As he kissed his way toward one breast, I realized that wasn’t a heartbeat at all. It was someone banging on the dressing room door. Jonah cursed as he leapt up to answer it. Gay rushed in like all hell breaking loose.
“In my office,” she commanded before she turned to leave. “Now!”
It was like a bucket of cold water for the both of us. Jonah handed me my hoodie before we obediently followed Gay to her office, where she paced in front of her desk. She spun around to face us. “I don’t give one rat’s ass what you do outside this club, but when you’re here, you’re mine. Got it?”
I gulped and refused to look at Jonah. I simply nodded.
“I’m going to be in charge of the set list this weekend. And the wardrobe,” she added, glaring at me. “Shows like tonight can’t ever happen again, not if you really want to see yourselves headline a club. So you’re hot for each other. Great. Chemistry sells tickets. But you leave your drama at home where it belongs. Understood?”
After we nodded, she barked, “Dismissed!”
We made our way back down to the dressing room, where I changed first, alone. He entered after I had vacated. I lingered until he opened the door again. He said nothing as I stepped inside to grab my backpack.
We walked silently towards our cars in the parking lot, ready to go to our respective corners like the naughty children we were. Once we reached my car, I turned to him. “I’m sorry about that, Jonah.”
He looked as chagrined as I was. “Me, too.” Softly, he added, “I don’t want to make things more complicated for you.”
“You, either,” I said. As hot as I was for him, I still had no idea who he was beyond the hot cowboy who could sing well and play guitar. Who knew what his challenges were? Clearly he had a few, otherwise he wouldn’t be visiting a hospital in the middle of the night, or hanging onto this gig without the passion for music driving him.
I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. Instead he offered his hand. “Truce?”
I glanced down at that strong hand. I could still feel its imprint on my body. And God help me, I wanted to feel it again. I wanted to hop into his truck and drive to somewhere, anywhere, to make love to this man at last. Clearly that was out of the questi
on. But Jonah had been my friend once. Maybe he could be again. I placed my hand in his, trying my best not to tremble as his fingers curled around it. “Truce,” I managed through my tightened throat.
The look in his eyes didn’t help. I held onto his hand longer than necessary. Maybe I was thinking if I held on long enough, he’d pull me back into those arms. He didn’t. So I pulled away and got into my car.
I didn’t look back as I drove away. And I turned the radio up full blast so that I wouldn’t cry.
Chapter Seventeen
As it turned out, Gay’s set included a solo song for Jonah as well as a duet. It hurt me more than I wanted to admit, like I had failed somehow. Despite my years of experience and all this talent everyone always said I had, I still needed him to make me special, to make me marketable. Without him, I was just some bar singer, generic and replaceable. With him, I had something special because he had something special. I knew it was true as I watched him toil over his solo to get it just so. It was a song about losing one’s innocence, which was weirdly apt as I watched him lose his creative virginity on that stage. He tipped his head back as he played, losing himself in the music in orgasmic bliss. His voice was pitch perfect, so deep and full. It poured over the senses like warm water. And every time his eyes met mine, I knew he could make any girl fall in love with him the minute he singled her out in the crowd.
He had “it.” There wasn’t even a question.
I joined him onstage to rehearse my bit. It was a Joplin tune I had sung plenty over the past ten years. It was old hat and so, I supposed, was I. After it was over, I looked back at the book. “Want to try the duet next?”
He nodded and we turned our sheet music to “Need You Now.” Sadly, it was a little too on-the-noise. My throat constricted as I sang the words that I couldn’t help but feel. If he had opened those arms, I would have jumped right into them. I did need him, more than I had ever needed anyone.
It was insane. What the hell was wrong with me? I just met this guy. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t had my fill of arrogant, sexy musicians over the past ten years.
I chalked it up to simple curiosity. He was a sexy man and a good kisser, so naturally I wanted to know what it was like to be in his arms, in his bed. I convinced myself that I couldn’t actually have feelings for this man. I barely knew him. And I wasn’t going to fall that hard, that fast, ever again.
I learned my lesson with Tony Paul.
But we performed the song well, whether sincere or not. Gaynell informed us that song was going on the list for Saturday, our biggest night of the week.
It was just another compromise to make, like my outfit that night. It was another skin-baring shirt, tied at the waist, with tight leather pants. Meanwhile Jonah got to wear another T-shirt with his jeans. It just wasn’t fair. I tried to resent him for it, but it was useless. Our set went well that night, so clearly Gay knew what she was doing.
It wasn’t her fault that women were more sexualized in our culture.
He trotted after me once our performance had ended. “Great show,” he said.
I nodded and looked up at him where he towered over me. “You, too.”
We stopped by the dressing room door. “I hope it wasn’t too…,” he started, but he trailed off, searching for the right word.
I let him off the hook by shaking my head. “It was okay. I mean I guess it’s going to have to be, right?”
We fell silent for a moment, until I pulled myself away to change first. When I was through, he wasn’t standing by the door like I expected. I looked around to find him, finally spotting him onstage, where he packed up his gear. He was cornered by two groupies who were anxious to get a piece of the newest Southern Nights stud. He handled them graciously, subtly flirting with them. It was all too familiar. I had to walk away. In fact, I needed a stiff drink. I headed out to the bar to order a beer.
Thanks to the knit hat and slacker clothes I wore, no one bothered me much as I sat there. But I was privy to the conversation around me, as the groupies all gushed about Jonah Riley.
No one said anything at all about Lacy Abernathy, but why would they? I was Blaze now, for better or worse. I guzzled the beer and handled the bottle back to a bartender. I was grateful it wasn’t Jacinda. I didn’t think I could handle another bitch-fest. I slid off the barstool and headed backstage. The door to the dressing room was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open. Jonah stood shirtless next to Jacinda, who had her hand on his chest. For a second I couldn’t breathe as I tried to decipher what I was seeing. Both of them were smiling until they caught sight of me. I gulped hard as Jonah’s face instantly registered either guilt or regret or both. “Sorry,” I said before I grabbed my bag and escaped before either of them could stop me.
That they didn’t told me everything I needed to know. I was in tears by the time I reached my car. I was so blinded by them that I sat in that parking lot for a good twenty minutes before I could see to drive.
It didn’t escape my notice that Jonah had not exited the building. I thought about waiting for them, to see if they left together, but that was too pathetic even for me. Instead I started my car and headed for home.
I didn’t sleep more than ten minutes at a stretch all night. I kept checking my phone on my nightstand, hoping that he’d text me, telling me that he wasn’t spending the night with one of the people who hated me most.
But he never texted me and I refused to text him.
The next day, I showed up at the club about an hour early. He arrived within a half hour, wearing the same rumpled clothes from the night before.
Jacinda followed him into the club, scrubbed fresh and smug.
I escaped to the dressing room, where he eventually followed. Our eyes met in the mirror. “I guess you need the shower.”
He looked contrite. “Yeah,” he said as he shut the door. “But first, we need to talk.”
“What’s there to say?” I shrugged. “I told you I was unavailable. You found someone else. You’re only human.”
“You let me believe you were taken,” he corrected softly.
My heart dropped. He knew? “I am,” I declared.
“Just tell me one thing. How old is Cody?”
I stared into his face for a long moment. It was clear that there had been quite a bit of information shared as part of their pillow talk. I cleared my throat and blinked away any traitorous tears. “He’s three.”
He sat in the chair opposite of me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I already told you. I keep my personal life away from the stage.”
“Because of what happened with Tony?”
I couldn’t bear hearing that name fall from his lips. I jumped out of my chair but he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back. “Talk to me, Lacy.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “What’s done is done.”
He didn’t release me as he stood. He pulled me towards him, but all I could see was his half-naked form being fondled by Jacinda in this very spot. “You might want that shower now, Jonah. You stink of skank.”
I walked out to the stage, where Gay was dusting off her old saloon piano. Great, I thought to myself as I took my place on the stool and let her lead rehearsal like she wanted. This threw Jonah off as he approached us. “What’s going on?”
I let Gay answer. This was her world. I just got paid to sing in it. “You didn’t think I’d let y’all have all the fun, did you?” she grinned. “The only thing missing from last night’s performance was a piano.” She showed off her prowess, running her fingers over different scales.
Gay had set up the list. We’d start with “Me and Bobby McGee,” then we’d sing the ballad, “Need You Now,” before I took the stage with “Night Moves.” We would end on “Join Together,” done “exactly like you did it last night,” she added, looking at me.
I just nodded like a good little girl. I hadn’t expected any less. As long as Jasper was part of the prize package, I was going to be shortchanged. It
was that way four years before. It was that way now.
It was turning out to be a craptastic day.
Jasper and Ariel arrived fashionably late, courtesy of the complimentary limo that Gay had sent for them. They got a private performance before the doors even opened, since they wanted to get the feel of the band without the intrusion of the audience.
They sat at a table front row center and we all took our places. I heard Jacinda’s voice over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, Southern Nights is proud to present our very own Blaze, featuring Jonah Riley on lead guitar!”
I didn’t even look in his direction. We performed much like an audition, with very little interaction with the two people who watched us like they were waiting around for a bus.
I watched Jonah try to goose them for a reaction, singing to Ariel directly even though she couldn’t be bothered to come out from behind her phone.
I did the finale just like the night before, complete with call and response, though Jasper and Ariel refused to participate. The crew around us filled all the gaps in an attempt to interject some life into this party. When we were done we all took our bows in time to see Jasper escort Ariel upstairs to Gay’s office.
Jonah looked nauseated as we walked silently back to the dressing room. Clearly the nerves were getting the better of him. “You think they liked it?”
I shrugged. Like I was the person to ask. “I guess we’ll know shortly. If Gay doesn’t pull our show, I think we did all right.”
He sprawled on the sofa while I refreshed my makeup for the real show. “So you’ve worked for Gay before.”
I focused on my task. “You could say that.”
“Is that why you fight her on everything?”
I spun the chair around to look at him. “I fight her on everything because regardless of what you think, she’s not always right. And she doesn’t own me, I don’t care how many checks she shoves down my throat.”
He sat up. “I’m not trying to cause trouble, Lacy.”
“Then drop it,” I snapped.
“I want to help,” he said softly, with that familiar sincere look in his eyes that I knew better than to trust.
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