by S. L. Scott
They’re holding hands, but reach to shake mine before finding each other so effortlessly again. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two more beautiful people. Rochelle asks, “How old is Ace, Jaymes?”
“You can call me Jamie.”
She glances to Derrick and smiles with a raised eyebrow. “These guys seem to have an affinity for full names. I don’t know what it is, but I just kind of love it, so Dex and I will call you Jamie, and leave Jaymes for Derrick.”
It’s funny what you learn when you finally open your eyes. I had forgotten, it always just felt right hearing my full name from him. Derrick even called me Jaymes when he was Rebel and everyone else called me Jamie. It seems the habit is rampant among the band. Or do all rock stars prefer the formality of birth given names? It’s not important, but I still like the way it feels special that only he calls me Jaymes. “Ace is five. Are those your sons?”
“Yes. Neil and CJ. Sorry for the invasion. They tend to make themselves right at home wherever we are. I guess that’s what all this traveling over the years has done.”
“It’s fine. Neil was very nice. He introduced himself and CJ to us.”
“That’s good to hear. He usually does most of the talking. CJ owns being the baby of the family, from tantrums to his curiosity, so sometimes he forgets his manners. I think he’s been hanging around Dex too much,” she teases, wrapping her arm around him. His arm comes around her shoulders as they tease. The conversation is lost as I witness the way he holds her so casually and comfortably that it makes me wonder if Derrick and I can ever get back to that place.
Not if Reggie has his way. Fortunately, I find some comfort that he isn’t brave enough to come to my mom’s house. It’s not just me he’ll be messing with, but my mom as well.
Damn it. I had managed to put him out of my mind, to take the trip, promising myself to get lost for a while in happiness and live in a fantasy world for two days. I don’t think it’s going to be possible. Not with the dark clouds of guilt hovering above us. Looking up at Derrick, his innocent gesture, his want to be with me and mine for him puts all three of us at risk. I need to talk to him this weekend.
“So what do you think?”
My eyes flash to Rochelle’s. Staring dumbly at her, I ask, “What?”
The group laughs, except for Derrick, who looks concerned. He steps in to save me. “Jaymes flew for the first time today. She and Ace had never been on a plane or to Vegas. It’s a lot to take in.”
Running my hand through my hair, I push it back. “Yeah, it’s exciting too. I’m so grateful Derrick did this for us.”
Rochelle’s expression is kind with trustworthy eyes. I’m comfortable around her, something I’m not used to being in my regular life. Are rich people genuine or am I being played? She says, “We came up here because Dex needed to talk to Derrick about the show tomorrow night. Why don’t you show me around the fancy suite.”
“I haven’t seen much of it. We can take a tour together.” Giving the guys privacy, we walk to the windows. I’ve not gotten to really look at the view. I helped Ace pinpoint a few things, but standing in silence in front of these large windows, I feel like we’re on top of the world.
It’s not silent for long. The boys are running from one end of the suite to the other chasing each other and giggling. I love the sound of their happiness and fun. CJ is acting like a total goofball, cracking jokes as he chases them. Rochelle says, “He loves to play. He’s the happiest kid all the time and will do anything to make someone laugh. He’s a lot like his father.”
Dex and Derrick have moved to the dining table and both have their phones out. Music is playing and they appear to be breaking down the song, note by note.
“I’m a fan of their music, and I’ve heard great things about Dex.”
Rochelle looks my way. “Dex isn’t their biological father, but he is their dad. For CJ, he’s practically the only one he’s ever known.”
Doing a double take, I look at her thinking of Ace. Reggie. Derrick. “I don’t mean to pry—”
“It’s not prying.” She goes on to tell me how Dex stepped in when she needed someone most. How he was the one who was there for her and the boys. We stroll from room to room, stopping to take in the view from each.
Her story resonates with me, giving me hope that maybe we’ll be out from under the dirty thumb of him, and accepted openly and cherished as part of a family. Ace deserves a family and a man who is a true role model.
And I want that too. A man in my life for me. It’s as though I’ve hidden myself for years. Busy as a mom, as a daughter, as a student and a worker. Life has been about working what feels like twenty-four seven. I’ve survived. But not necessarily lived.
“Jaymes?” Walking back into the living room, Derrick and Dex are standing there looking more like the cats that ate the canaries than brooding rock stars.
I go to him. I wrap my arms around his middle and embrace him. In front of Dex. With Rochelle watching. With the kids running circles around us and weaving between the furniture, I hug him, so tight. “Yes?”
Strong arms envelop me. “Will you go on a date with me tonight?”
He doesn’t even whisper it. Just asks like that for everyone to hear, and my heart is his all over again. That simple. Before I answer, Rochelle drags Dex over to the windows and thus starts the worst game of not-eavesdropping I’ve ever seen played. Tilting my head up, I grin, my pants practically charmed right off me from the sweetness of his question. “I would love to. I have to warn you though, Ace doesn’t eat in fancy restaurants so we might want to keep it kid-friendly.”
“Not with Ace, though I’d like to take him to do some stuff while you’re here. Tonight, just you and me.”
“He’s five, Derrick. I can’t leave him here by himself.”
“I actually offered to watch him,” Rochelle says, “I was thinking since I have my boys here and they’re all getting along so well that maybe Ace could spend some time with us. Maybe even have a sleepover.”
How are these people so nice? “Who are you and how did I get so lucky to meet you?” I joke.
Derrick’s playful jealousy is showing when his arms tighten reminding me he’s here. “Hey, what am I?”
“A dream come true. I’d love to go out with you, but he’s never had a sleepover before.”
Rochelle offers, “Of course no pressure. The boys have been getting along so well that—”
Derrick adds, “Only what you’re comfortable with.”
“He spends the night with my mom sometimes. It’s not like I have to be there every night, but he needs to feel safe. That I’m okay and he’s okay.”
“Do you want to talk to Ace?”
“Yes. Let me talk to him and see how he feels about it.”
It’s so hard to let go when being in his arms is my favorite place to be, but I pull myself off of him and find Ace and the other boys jumping on the beds in his room. “Jump to me, buddy.”
When he lands in my arms, I crouch with a grunt, setting his feet on the floor. “You’re getting so big, Ace.”
“Derrick told me if I keep eating healthy stuff and exercise I’ll be bigger than you when I grow up.” I kneel down so I’m eye level, but he continues, “He said I might even be as big as him one day. That’s gigantic.”
“You’re growing fast. I think he might be right. So, I can tell you really like Derrick.” He nods, his eyes glancing between me and the other boys, anxious to get back to playing. “I like Derrick, too.”
“I know, Mommy. Grandma says when you weren’t single that you weren’t single with him.”
As much as I want to be irritated at my mom for talking about Derrick and me with Ace, I’m struggling to muster the anger. Technically, what she said is true and the only time I’ve ever lied to Ace is to protect him from Reggie. I’m not going to lie about Derrick. Not to Ace. “Yes, we used to go on dates. That’s when two people like each other and hang out.”
“Like we do.”
“Whoa. Yes,” he says, jumping up and down. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Please. Please. Please.”
“I thought that might be your answer. I’ll let them know.” I stand and he’s about to dive back on to the bed, but I grab him and hug him tight. “I love you, buddy.”
“I love you.”
He’s so wiggly to get back that I let him loose. Standing there, I watch for a minute as the boys play, daring each other to jump off and land on their feet. “Be careful, guys.” When I return to the others, I point at Derrick. “I’m all yours.” Smiling to Rochelle and Dex, I say, “They’re all yours. You sure it’s okay?”
“Totally. We’ll have a great time.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. We’ll let you guys settle in and come by around six for Ace. Does that work?”
“He’ll be bouncing off the walls until then.”
“I hear ya. With this wild crew, Dex is teaching them drums and guitar, so he’s heading to the stage to let me nap. I have a feeling we’re going to have a busy night.”
“I think so, but I appreciate it so much.”
“No problem at all,” she replies.
Minutes later, they’re gone and Derrick and I are left standing there. It’s eerily quiet, so we sneak back to the bedroom where the kids were playing and find Ace zonked out on the bed. Derrick’s hand is pressed lightly to my back, and I lean my head against the doorframe. This just all feels so good. So . . . right. That same right Derrick was talking about. We’ve already fallen into a little bubble of comfort and I don’t know if I should go with it or be leery.
My shoulders are tense and his hand slides up, massaging me. He says, “Let him sleep. If I know Neil and CJ, which I do, he’s going to need all the energy he can store.”
Quietly, we go back to the living room and keep walking. It’s been driving me crazy not to kiss this man. As soon as we enter the master bedroom, I grab him and press him to the wall. My lips are on him, my body against his Rock. Hard. Body. “We can stay in tonight,” I suggest, hopeful.
“Ha. My oh my. I kind of like you all wound tight.” He slips out of my grasp and backs toward the bed. “Call me cruel—”
“Cruel.”
He snickers. “I’m thinking I might tease you a bit tonight. Wind you even tighter.”
Stalking toward him, I cock an eyebrow. “That would be cruel. You shouldn’t be so mean.”
“I’m mean now? Hmmm . . .” He taps his chin. “C’mere, baby.” I rush into his arms. With a kiss to the top of my head, and while stroking my hair, he whispers, “Let me take you. Wine and dine you good and proper and then we have the whole night to do all the dirty, fucking sexy things you want to do. How does that sound?”
“Sublime. Where have you been all my life?”
“Right here waiting for this moment with you.”
24
Derrick
She’s going to kill me dead.
Right here.
Right now.
Rubbing up against me.
In a hotel room in Vegas.
With her hot body and dirty talk.
I pry her sexy little self off me and kick myself for asking her to wait. I’d be more than happy to fuck the night away. But that’s not the memory I want her to have of our time together. Well, I do want that, but in addition, I also want to romance her and make this weekend the most unforgettable time of her life.
With the life I’ve been leading the last couple years, I forget she’s still leading one I left in the past.
Her first flight.
Her first time out of LA.
Her first time to leave California.
Her first trip to Las Vegas.
Shit.
So many firsts. In my life, cities blur together without a second thought. I’m barely aware of where I am these days, much less appreciating where I’ve been.
Walking across the room, she lies on the bed and asks, “Do I get to sleep in here?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“Funny girl with all the jokes.” She’s laughing, completely amused. Me too. I sit at the end of the bed and take one of her shoes off and then the other. Rubbing her feet, I lean back on my elbow.
Her moan goes straight to my cock. Fuck. I get up and walk into the bathroom. While I readjust, she comes in. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were so easily turned on.”
“I think you knew.”
“Maybe.” She laughs just as our gazes catch in the reflection of the mirror The way she leans with her hip kicked out and a look on her face, that come-hither smirk, that used to have me begging, I see the girl I fell in love with the moment I laid eyes on her . . .
Reggie pulls a pack of cigs out of his jacket pocket and pops one up in offering.
Instead of taking one, I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees atop the picnic table. “You’ve got balls as big as San Francisco, dude.”
We just got busted by Coach Thorne smoking behind the gym, scored one week of detention, and here this fucker is smoking on school property not even five minutes later. With an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, he says, “San Francisco isn’t that big.”
“And your point is?”
“Fuck you . . .”
I’m too busy laughing at my own joke to hear what he says next, but when he hits me in the chest, I take notice. “What the fuck?”
“There she is.”
“Who?” I ask. When I follow his stare, I sit up.
Oh.
Dark hair. Almost black on this cloudy day.
Wow.
The wide eyes of innocence shining.
Shit.
Tits. Not huge, but enough to satisfy a tit guy. I guess that’s what I am. I wasn’t just knocked on my ass. I was knocked completely out of my orbit and straight off my axis. I didn’t know her name, but Reggie did. “Jamie Grenier.”
My throat felt dry and my chest hurt from the sight of her. Fuck. Am I having a heart attack at fifteen? “Give me a cigarette.”
“Now you want one?”
“Yeah.”
I light up—fire to the flame. My nerves settle, but my chest still aches. Then she looks my way. Reggie catcalled her and got flipped off in return. I try a different approach. “Hey.”
When she realizes I’m talking to her, she replies, “What?”
“Did I see you at the mall the other day?” I never go to the mall.
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe over at Ernie’s?” The best sandwich shop in LA.
There it is. She smiles. “Maybe. They’ve got the best sandwiches in the city.”
Damn, I knew I liked her. And then Fate played her hand—Reggie hits me from behind. “Call her over here. I want to meet her.”
It’s not just an ache I feel but more in that moment, something bigger, stronger, something I’ve never felt before. There’s no way I’m walking away from this girl. And less chance I’m giving Reggie a shot at her. No, that’s not gonna happen. “Hey Jamie, c’mere.”
Reggie is so excited his hands are shaking. Or it might be from the drugs he took after we were busted. Who knows? The dude is fucked up. I’ve known him since I was ten and he was the only kid I was told to stay away from. Naturally he was the most fascinating. Five years later, I’m almost as deep into this gang shit as him. I’ve learned to protect myself and my home. No one else will do it for you. We’re the small-time lackeys right now, but we’re moving up the ranks fast. In two years, I’ll get my tat. That will be the beginning of the end of all those dreams my mom once had, but I’ll own these streets. Nothing’s gonna change that course now.
She walks with purpose, not afraid of us like some of the chicks at this school. Crossing
her arms over her chest, she stops right in front of me—all badass attitude wrapped in a bombshell body. “What’s your name?” she asks.
“Rebel.”
Reaching forward, she pushes some of the hair fallen over my forehead to the side, and takes my cigarette. Dropping it to the ground, she says, “You can call me Jaymes.”
I realize right then that I’m not just a tit guy. I’m a Jaymes Grenier guy. She stole my cigarette and my heart that day.
. . . And she’s never given it back. Our eyes are still locked, both of us caught up in memories that feel more real than this life sometimes. “You changed my course.”
Sadness befalls her. “You changed mine.” The doorway is vacated and I’m left with the damage I’ve done. While she gave me her best, I gave her my worst.
Walking back into the bedroom, I find her standing at the window staring out. Her arms are still crossed and her dark hair covers half her face. I join her, our arms pressed together as we both look out over Vegas. “He liked you,” I say.
When her green eyes look into mine, she asks, “Who?”
“Reggie.”
I see the change. It’s instant. The softness in her body hardens. The kindness in her eyes turns to hate. The patience of her usual tone is gone. “I don’t want to talk about him. Not tonight.”
“I know, but I think we should.”
“Why? Why ruin this?”
“I’m not trying to ruin it, Jaymes. I’m trying to make it better. We all have secrets and I know that mine did more damage than I ever realized.”
“So this is a confessional now?” Walking to the bed, she sits at the end, her body closed off with arms wrapped around her and knees crossed. “Well, guess what? I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear anything about him ever again.”
“Please.”
The plea pulls her gaze back to mine. Her breathing has changed—harshness taking over. “Fine. Whatever makes you feel better, Derrick. Go for it.”
“It’s not that I’ll feel better. I will never feel better because of how he hurt you.”
Moving higher on the bed, she grabs a pillow and hugs it to her chest. Her back is to the headboard and her knees protecting her. I can’t see her face and it’s killing me that she won’t look up. “Just say it.”