Dirty Like Me

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Dirty Like Me Page 32

by Jaine Diamond


  And Josh was here, too.

  Even when he dumped me, I didn’t have the heart to throw him out.

  It really didn’t matter what I painted anyway, or who, since no one ever saw it. But it mattered to me. In fact, it should’ve mattered more to me. I could see that now.

  Maybe that was what Jesse was trying to show me.

  There were tears in my eyes when I turned to him. “What is this?”

  “It’s yours, if you want it.”

  “What do you mean?” I was in shock again.

  My whole life had suddenly become a what the fuck situation.

  “You went to see my sister,” he said. “I went to see yours.”

  Shit. He knew about my dinner with Jessa?

  I didn’t know how to feel. So many emotions fought for dominance. Embarrassment. Sorrow. Joy. More than anything, though, I was humbled. No one had ever done something like this for me before.

  “We used to use it as a rehearsal space for the band, but we have a new one.”

  “You own this place?”

  “Yeah. It’s a great neighborhood.”

  No shit. It was an expensive neighborhood. “I can’t let you pay for this.”

  “Then consider me an investor.” He walked over to me and looked down at my unfinished work. “I think your work is incredible, Katie. And I think it should be seen.” He turned to look at me, in all seriousness. “I think you should be seen. I’ve always felt that way.” He ran his knuckle lightly along my jaw and I fought the urge to melt into a puddle right at his feet.

  “Jesse…”

  “You can finally have that art show you wanted to have. With your newfound infamy,” he added with a little grin, “you’re sure to get a crowd. And Brody is connected up the ass, babe. He can bring in real art buyers with money. We can even get someone handling PR. Your work can be famous, but every little detail of your private life doesn’t have to be.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I believe in you. And I believe in your talent.” He glanced around the room. “It’s a good space. And I know you like the neighborhood.”

  “Which is how I know how much this costs.”

  He ignored that. “It’s close to Nudge, and Devi’s office is three blocks away. You can go for coffee.”

  “I noticed.”

  He walked over to the painting I’d started the day Devi told me I’d been chosen to be in his music video. The day my life took a sharp turn. I’d gone to Becca’s basement to paint and think it over, and clear my head. But I hadn’t been able to clear it. Not of him. Not of the man who’d made an unforgettable impression on me from the first moment I saw his face.

  “When did you paint this?” he asked.

  It was a painting of Jesse, of how I’d first seen him when we met. Beautiful and abstract, something ungettable, unknowable. Or so I thought.

  I swallowed hard. “The day I met you,” I whispered. I couldn’t find my voice. I felt like I was floating away, like this was all some incredible dream.

  “You said you didn’t know who I was when we met.”

  “I didn’t.”

  He stared at me, those unreadable molasses eyes sliding over my face. I trembled, though it wasn’t cold in the studio, and hugged myself.

  “Katie…” he said.

  We were interrupted by a knock. He went to the door and let my sister in, and Devi was right behind her. Becca smiled at me, and Jesse headed up to the loft.

  What the hell was going on?

  I hugged my sister and held on tight. “Katie,” she whispered, “it’s okay.”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know…” I just kept saying it, over and over, while she held me.

  When we drew apart, she held my face in her hands, like it was small and precious to her, the way she had when we were young.

  “Take the studio,” she said. “There’s no guilt in quitting the coffee bar. We’ll survive without you, I promise.”

  “What about what happened? The paparazzi? It can get a lot worse than that.”

  “We’ll be alright, Katie.”

  “But what are you going to do if they get harassed at school? It’s hard on kids, being the center of attention, having people talk about them, say things that aren’t even true.”

  “Well, their father’s always threatening to homeschool them anyway. Or move us all to Costa Rica.”

  “You aren’t seriously going to leave Nudge.”

  “I’ll do whatever’s right for my family. And that includes you.” She put her hands on my arms and squeezed. “We’ll be alright, Katie. Do this for yourself.” She pulled me in for another hug. “From what I can see, he really cares about you. This is a real opportunity. Do it for your art.” She glanced off toward the stairwell, where Jesse had vanished. “And for your heart.”

  My sister smoothed my hair off my cheek, and I loved her so much in that moment.

  Then it was Devi’s turn. I clung to her as she hugged me, feeling safe in the arms of the person who knew me better than anyone on the planet. When we came apart, she looked me in the eye, strong and steady, and told me the truth.

  “It’s time to move forward, sweetie.”

  ◊◊◊

  After I let Becca and Devi out, I locked the door and walked around the room.

  It really was the perfect space for an art studio. I could imagine all my supplies organized into the shelves along the walls. There was enough room for several easels, and to store all my work, and then some.

  Hell, I could do art shows here.

  I went upstairs, emerging from the spiral staircase into the partial loft that overlooked the studio below. Jesse was there, standing in front of the paneled windows that merged with the skylight above, fiddling with his phone. Two things struck me at once: the fact that he’d probably heard every word that had been spoken below, and the view.

  “If you want to be independent, Katie, you need to have something to build your dream on,” he said, stashing away his phone. “Something that’s your own. This is yours. No strings attached.”

  “It’s just that I had that before,” I said, moving closer to him. “I thought I had that before, but there were strings. I just didn’t see them until it was too late.”

  “No strings,” he said. “I’ll sell the property to you, dirt cheap. Whatever it takes so you can make it your own. You have mad talent, and it kills me to think you don’t know it.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “I mean… I think my work can be better. But that’s the thing about art. It grows and evolves.” I was growing, too. I had a lot of ideas for the work I wanted to do. “And I’m so out of practice… but I’ve kind of been dying to get back into it.”

  And with a place to do it, and funds to support me while I worked… it really was my dream come true.

  “Don’t you have a show to get to?” I asked as he came closer.

  “I’ll get there,” he said, unconcerned. “And if this doesn’t work for you, we can do it any other way.”

  We? I looked up at him and took a deep breath.

  “It works,” I said.

  He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “And you know, with the money you just made on the tour, you can make a go of this. With or without me.” He looked at me and I knew he was waiting for me to say something.

  He was giving me a chance to take the money, and now the studio, and run.

  As if I could ever do that.

  “I’ll do the contract work for Dirty. But I can’t take that other money, Jesse. I’m giving it back.”

  “It’s yours. You earned it.”

  “While I was having sex with you. It just feels…”

  “Dirty?” His mouth curled in a small grin.

  “Yeah.”

  “Katie, I didn’t pay you to have sex with me.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I didn’t pay you to love me, either.”

  I stared at him, at the plain truth there on his fa
ce, wanting to refute it.

  I couldn’t.

  “Jessa told me what you did. What you said to her in L.A..” He stepped closer, until all I could see was him. I looked up at his face. He was searching my eyes. “Why did you go see her?”

  I swallowed. “Same reason I went to see Elle, I guess. I don’t like someone you care about being in pain.”

  He didn’t say anything. I still didn’t always know how to read his eyes, and it killed me that I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry if I stuck my nose in where it didn’t belong. It just seemed to me that she needed to hear all those things you said to me, you know, about how much you worried for her, and—”

  “Katie. I’m trying to tell you. I love you too.”

  I stood there, stunned, just kind of gaping at him for a long moment. “But… I failed.”

  “What the hell do you mean?”

  “I tried to get her to come home. She wouldn’t.”

  “Katie. It’s been years. If she won’t do it for anyone else, she won’t do it for you.” He pulled me closer and cupped my face in his hands. “I’m fucking blown away that you tried.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “What you tried to do for her,” he said softly. “For me. That means everything to me.” He took hold of my hands. “It’s only ever been me and Jessa, you know? Us and Mom, and when she died… a lot of people stepped up. Dolly. The guys. I know Jude and Brody would kill for me. Literally. For Jessa, too. And the band, they’re family to me. You know that. But I’m telling you, Katie, I’ve never loved anyone, ever, like I love you.”

  I felt the tingle in my nose, the tears pricking my eyes. Was he going to make me cry?

  “I love you. I fucking love you and I should’ve told you that a long time ago,” he said. “You’re always on my mind. You’re in everything I do. I could barely even get through the end of the tour without you there. It just didn’t seem to matter anymore without you. Even the music wasn’t the same, and the music is in my fucking soul. I just missed you, so fucking much.”

  “I missed you too,” I managed, still in shock.

  “I know I can’t make you stay with me,” he said. “But I can beg you not to go.”

  He got down on one knee in front of me and that was it; I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a shaky breath.

  “Jesse. Don’t you dare start begging me or I’m going to cry. And I fucking hate crying.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll just ask. Katie Bloom, will you marry me?”

  He’d taken something out of his pocket so smoothly I didn’t even notice until he flipped open the small velvety box. A ring box.

  Inside was a plain silver band with one tiny skull etched into it.

  “I know it’s not much,” he said. “It was my mom’s. The only thing besides us that my dad left her. And you didn’t seem very keen on diamonds. But if you want something else, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

  I looked at it, at him, my vision swimming, and drew a shaky breath.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Jesse’s eyes shone up at me and he bit his lip a little. Jesus, was he going to cry now?

  “You need to know,” he said. “If you say yes, I’m never going to leave you. You don’t have to marry me tomorrow. We can get married whenever you want. I just need to know you’re mine, forever.”

  Then I did start to cry.

  “I love you, Katie. I know you’ve been through shit. I know it still hurts, and it’s a giant leap of faith for you to trust me. But if I’m what you want—”

  “Yes! Yes, Jesse. You’re what I want. You’re everything I want.”

  “Then I’m marrying you,” he told me, and he slipped the ring on my finger. It was too big. He slipped it on and off several fingers; the only one it fit was my thumb.

  I laughed and wiped tears from my eyes.

  “We’ll get it sized,” he said, and kissed the base of my thumb where it met my palm.

  I cupped his face. “I don’t want it sized. It’s part of you. Part of your family. I’ll wear it right where it fits, with pride.”

  “You’re my family now,” he said, all choked up.

  “Then get up off your knees and kiss me.” I tried to draw him to me, but he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down to him instead.

  We rolled on the floor and I laughed, the tears streaming down my face, tears of ridiculous ecstasy and relief. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with everything I had in my heart. When he kissed me back, the truth of it burned deep, straight to my soul; it was the first time he’d kissed me when it wasn’t a ruse—or at least, when I knew it wasn’t a ruse.

  It was just Jesse. Kissing the woman he was going to marry.

  He drew back and scowled at me. “Were you about to break up with me?”

  “No,” I said, and kissed his nose. “Couldn’t break up with you. We were never together.”

  “That’s true.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I guess I should ask you out on a date, then.”

  “You should.”

  “Come to the show tonight,” he said, “and I’ll take you for dinner afterward. Just the two of us.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But only because I love you, Jesse Mayes.”

  He drew me out onto the roof of the studio, where across the water I could see the arena where Jesse would rock a sold-out crowd tonight. Where his new fiancée would be cheering him on from backstage.

  “We may be famous,” he murmured, “but there are still places where no one will find us…”

  He kissed me while the sun set over the water, gold and amber and scarlet reflecting off the glass towers of downtown.

  “I will always love you, Katie Bloom,” he whispered in my ear.

  It was the best thing anyone had ever said to me.

  And it was enough to build a dream on.

  EPILOGUE

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  JESSA

  The courier caught me just as I was leaving my apartment in New York.

  I was on my way to London for a job; the cab was already waiting at the curb. I signed for the package while the doorman and the driver loaded my things into the trunk. Once I was settled into the backseat and we were on our way to JFK, I tried to relax.

  It had been a rough morning.

  Dirty had started writing music for the new album, and it wasn’t bad enough my brother had laid an epic guilt trip on me about not being there, several times over, to the point that I’d started avoiding his calls again. I knew he meant well; he always did. But hearing that careful concern in his voice drove me up the wall. He’d been tiptoeing around me ever since Katie came to see me in L.A.. I’d talked to him about her visit, like I’d told her I would; it went well, a lot better than I feared it might, acknowledging the fact that he was worried about me. He’d never really said so out loud, and usually I just pretended it wasn’t happening.

  We’d been doing this dance for years.

  Talking about it didn’t really change anything, though. He still didn’t understand. I still didn’t want him to.

  We still kept doing our little dance.

  To make matters worse, his equally well-meaning fiancée had been sending me photos.

  It started with snapshots from the band’s jam sessions. Zane rocking out on the mic. Katie pretending to play Dylan’s drum kit. My brother wrapped around his guitar, surrounded by scraps of paper as he worked on new songs.

  She had also sent me photos of her and Jesse, hanging out with her dog or her niece and nephew at the beach. Sometimes other people were in the photos, too.

  Sometimes I caught a glimpse of Brody and it hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe.

  Last night, I could’ve sworn my heart stopped beating.

  Katie had sent me a text with a photo taken inside Brody’s house. I recognized the party room; I hadn’t been back there in six years but it was exactly the same. Some of the guys were hanging out on the couch. It was a sweet picture, and I could see why she
’d sent it. It was Jesse, Zane, Jude and Brody, the four of them looking exactly like they had so many times when we were kids, relaxed and happy in one another’s company, laughing at some shared joke.

  Brody looked so fucking handsome it hurt. With his dark blue eyes and the deep laugh lines at the corners, his brown hair a little messed up and that smile on his face. I hadn’t laid eyes on him in years. Not until Katie’s photos started coming in. I really didn’t need to see him at all, but it wasn’t Katie’s fault.

  She didn’t know.

  I knew better, but somehow I’d let myself slip. Instead of deleting the photo like I should have, I kept it. I must’ve looked at it a hundred times last night, studying the haunting lines of his face.

  God, he looked so happy.

  And messed up as I was, I couldn’t even begin to process how I felt about that.

  I’d attempted to process it with several cocktails, and when that didn’t work, I’d gone to a party with some friends, and woken up this morning in an apartment in Williamsburg with some hipster I could hardly remember hooking up with last night. I’d slipped out before he woke up, and on my way home, he’d texted me.

  Not my one-night stand. Brody.

  It was a shock to my hungover system. Not that he never messaged me, but it had been a long time. Seeing his name and number in my messaging app, I felt dirty and twisted and alone. I thought about deleting it, deleting him. Completely blocking him from ever contacting me again.

  As if I could wipe what happened off the face of the Earth.

  Thinking about you.

  That was all he said. But Brody always managed to say just the thing to blow my life wide open.

  I stared out the cab window, not really seeing a thing but his smiling face in that photo. I closed my eyes and he was there, awaiting me in the dark. I couldn’t seem to erase him from my thoughts, but I knew I couldn’t let myself backslide like this.

  I started to get my phone out of my purse to delete the text and the photo, when the corner of the courier package caught my eye.

 

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