Lori? Well that’s interesting.
Hunter and Scott stand next and wave to me on their way out. Neither Jack nor Jennifer move.
“Well I guess I’ll see you guys on Monday.”
Jennifer stands and says, “Leila, nine sharp. We have a lot to do Monday morning even before we start rehearsals.” The woman looks at me like I’m an idiot.
“No problem, I’ll be here.” I look at Jack before I walk out. “Bye, Jack.”
“Bye.”
He remains sitting as Dylan stares at him for a few seconds and finally turns to me. “I’ll walk you out.”
So this is how he wants to play it? An ache settles in my chest. Why the hell is he upset with me? Maybe because I ruined his good time.
Monday is going to be very awkward unless I do something to break the tension between us. Maybe I’ll be the better person and call him later.
Once in the lobby, Dylan turns to face me when we are at the front door.
“Are you and Jack ok?” Anyone could have guessed there was tension between us today, but I’m a bit taken back that Dylan would mention it barely knowing me.
“Yeah, we are fine. Why?” I ask looking away. If he can read people as well as I think, he just figured out I’m lying.
“Just seems like there was some tension between you. If there is anything I can do to help the situation, just let me know. I can talk to him, if nothing else.” He offers and I’m touched.
“Thanks Dylan, but I can handle it.” This is between Jack and me.
“Handle what?” Jack asks walking over to us. I turn toward him and sigh. How much has he heard?
Without missing a beat, Dylan says, “Just the stress of going on tour.” He turns to face me and winks.
Jack stands right next to us at the front door and makes no motion to leave. It’s obvious he thinks Dylan is full of crap.
Dylan looks at him indifferently and then turns back to me. “Leila, remember what I said. You can call me for any reason. It was an absolute pleasure meeting you. I look forward to getting to know you.” He puts out his hand, and as I shake it he then lays his other hand over both of ours. He walks toward the hallway without a word to Jack.
“You two BFF’s already?” Pure annoyance flashes across his face. Is that why he is so pissy?
I ignore his comment and shoot him my own indifferent look before turning to leave.
“Wait, can I walk you to your car? I’d like to talk.”
Now he wants to talk?
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Please?”
I sigh heavily and turn toward the door.
“Bye, Leila.” Ian calls out as I walk out the studio.
“Bye, Ian.” I wave and smile.
Jack looks over at Ian then turns to me. “You are here like five minutes, and you already have two admirers?” He tries to sound amused, but he falls short.
What is his problem?
We walk toward the lot where my car is parked in total silence, as I quietly stew.
“Can I sit with you inside for a few minutes?” he asks.
My nonverbal response is to unlock the doors. Once inside the car, I barely shut my door before Jacks mutters, “I’m so sorry.”
Staring straight ahead, he looks completely distraught. “Leila, I am…I am so sorry.” He finally turns to look at me.
“Jack …I…why are you angry at me?”
He turns to me and looks confused. “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself. I’m sorry I’m not handling my feelings very well.”
“Oh…I…never mind.” I uncomfortably stumble over my own words. I don’t know what to say. Watching him, I fail to recall why I was even mad at him. My anger is slipping away, and I wish I could reach over and comfort him.
Why was I so upset with him? He has already apologized for his behavior, but I guess I wasn’t ready to forgive him. After the way he acted today, I assumed that he was annoyed with me.
It suddenly occurs to me that the lack of contact from him for the last few weeks is what has me upset. What had me totally freaking out wasn’t the tour looming, or the kiss, or even Jack acting like a whore. It was the fact I wasn’t hearing from him.
“Jack, it’s ok.”
“I hate that we started off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?” He pleads.
“I would like that.”
He smiles and grabs my hand. “I know you are working tonight, but can I take you out to dinner tomorrow? Sort of a peace offering?”
We do need to feel comfortable with each other. We need to get to a better place, and besides, I enjoy being with him. I now crave it. I would do anything this man asks because, well just because.
Before I can stop myself I blurt out, “Why don’t you come to my place? We can bring in or I can cook. We can talk and get to know each other better.”
Who am I kidding?
He looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Yeah? Are you sure you are ok with that?”
“Yes, I would like that.”
“Ok, I would like that too.” He says smiling.
As an afterthought I add, “Bring Hunter if you’d like.” I’m not sure if I said that to help him feel more comfortable, or for me to.
Jack arrives alone, explaining Hunter had plans. The way he stands at my door bearing dinner, which consists of a pizza, a six-pack and a box of cheap white wine, makes him look absolutely adorable.
“You remembered the cheap wine.”
“Well I was going to get a bottle, but I thought the box would impress you more.”
Laughing, I open the door wide for him, taking the wine from his hand.
As we sit eating our meal while making small talk, I can’t help but feel he seems a bit on edge with me. As he devours his fourth brownie, I shyly ask, “Are you ok?”
Looking up surprised he responds, “Yeah, why?”
“You just seem quiet tonight.”
Smiling warmly, he shrugs and admits, “I just want things to be ok between us.”
I reach over to cover his hand with my own, and as I’m doing it I’m aware it’s a bad idea.
Looking down he turns his hand so we are palm to palm, and slowly runs him thumb across my mom’s wedding band on my right hand. His touch causes the sparks to fly through my body, and causes my logical side to scream for me to pull my hand away immediately.
I can’t.
Jack continues to play with the ring on my finger. “This looks like a wedding band.” He says, surprising me once again with his candor.
“It was my mom’s.”
Jack searches my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“…Don’t worry about it.” I interrupt, smiling to ease his discomfort. Jack squeezes my hand affectionately.
“Let’s relax.” He drags me over to the couch while still holding my hand. I sit next to him and consciously keep a safe distance between our bodies. I did not invite him here to worsen our complicated situation…at least I don’t think I did. But the yearning to touch him is unbearable now that he is here. Tucking my legs under my body, clasping my hands in my lap, I practically cocoon myself on the couch to prevent any accidental or intentional contact.
Jack doesn’t seem to notice my shielding defense, and immediately makes himself at home, flipping around on the remote until he finds a Mets game on TV. Side note, my dad will not be happy that Jack is a Mets fan.
“The Yankees are playing Boston tonight, and it is my TV.” Reluctantly I hold my hand out, waiting for him to relinquish the remote.
“We’ll compromise. Next inning we’ll watch the Bums from the Bronx.” Sneaking a sideways glance at me he says, “What? They suck.”
“Spoken like a true Mets fan.” I fold my arms to pretend to be angry, yet the look on his face causes me to laugh.
“And a Yankee hater.” He leans over and places a chaste kiss on my cheek, leaving a tingly sensation behind.
We fall into a comfortable conversation as the games
move on inning by inning. He tells me about his childhood. He wasn’t a jock and preferred the glee club and school musicals to football, plus he was smart. He admits he should have gotten his ass kicked in school. But because he was so popular, everyone thought it was cool.
I relay stories of all the trouble Evan and I would get into and the many girlfriends he lost because of me. He wants to know what my dad is like, and he tells me about his parents. He talks about Lizzy and how gorgeous she is, but more importantly how smart she is. We discuss how Lori and Trey hit it off. He wondered why Trey said to say hi to her. Of course Trey hadn’t mentioned it to him but he could see them together. She was definitely his type. I laugh and admit the same.
He brings up Matt once again. I act all cool when it comes to him but truth is he hurt me. I promised myself I would never let that happen again. I fell hard for Matt and that was why I gave him another chance. I was convinced he had matured and changed. All I admit to Jack is that Matt was a dick and he didn’t know the first thing about relationships. Surprisingly he defends Matt, and says that he doesn’t know all that much about relationships either. I guess he is right. What the hell do I know about them?
I confess that I was not happy with his offer at the lunch with Dylan regarding car service. I tell him he made me feel helpless and pathetic. He is a bit amused at first, but then backs off and says it wouldn’t happen again. I then forgive him for being a jackass.
I ask him about the scar on his hand. He says when he was a kid he fell off his skateboard and landed on a broken bottle in the street. I laugh and he says he is glad his injury amuses me. I explain I had a more exciting scenario in my head where he got into a bar brawl, or punched a window in a fit of rage. Now it’s his turn to laugh.
He suddenly becomes serious and asks, “What was your mom like?”
“She was perfect.” I lean back on the sofa, closing my eyes.
He reaches over and places his hand on my knee. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” His touch affects me and I stiffen slightly. Jack interprets my reaction as discomfort and quickly removes his hand, turning his attention back to the Mets game.
“You didn’t upset me. It’s just still hard to talk about her. I miss her every damn day. She would have been so proud of me right now. She always was, but this would have really made her happy because I’m following my dream.”
He shifts slightly to face me and smiles warmly. “What did she look like?”
Returning his smile I stand and say, “Come, I’ll show you.” Jack follows me down the hall to my room. Flipping on the light, he steps in behind me and looks around.
For a few seconds, I watch Jack as he takes in my room.
“Nice room.” He smirks. “Very girlie.”
He’s right. My room is a typical girlie room. I have a pretty white wrought iron headboard with floral patterns on the duvet, shams and sheets, lacy curtains, and a retro princess phone. I tried to duplicate my room at home when I was a little girl because it reminds me of my mom so much.
“Well, I am a girl.”
Turning toward me, Jack sweeps my body with his smoky gaze. “That you are.”
Damn it! He can’t look at me like that with a bed two feet away. In an alternate universe, there is a Leila Marino who pushes a Jack Lair down on his back and has her wicked way with him over and over again. But I want more than hot, sweaty sex with Jack. I also want to connect with him in the most intimate of ways.
All this from one look in my bedroom?
Remembering why we are in here, I walk over to a framed photo of my mom hanging on the wall. Jack follows me and leans in to closely examine the picture.
“You are practically twins.”
“A little. She was gorgeous.”
“So are you.” We turn to face each other.
“Thank you.”
He nods at my response. I look up at my mom’s picture again to break the connection between us. “You haven’t met my dad. I look a little like him too. I also have my dad’s personality. Mom was such a free spirit. She was so much fun.”
“I wish I could have met her.”
“Me too. She would have liked you. Believe it or not, dropping out of law school to pursue your dream would have impressed her.”
“Really?”
“Yep. She felt you only live once. Everyone should live his or her lives without regret. I think she’s the only parent on earth that could care less how I did in school. I take that back, she did care, but if I failed a test she would take me for ice cream.” With a small smile, I remember the day my mom did just that. She dried my tears and told me it was no big deal.
Jack focuses on my mom’s picture, and then focuses on me. The seriousness in his expression has me wondering what he’s thinking.
“What?”
He shakes his head and smiles. “Nothing. You know, I’m really glad we did this.”
“Me too.”
“I should get going, it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yep…nine sharp!”
Jack laughs out loud. “You sounded just like her. That’s awesome.”
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Don’t apologize. That was spot on. Promise me you’ll do that for Hunter.”
“What? No way. She’s your agent.”
“Our agent.”
“Even more of a reason not to.” Jack follows me out of my room toward my apartment door.
“Do you want to take the rest of the brownies home?”
“Don’t tease me, woman.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. Taking that as a yes, I wrap the rest of the brownies for him and hand them over.
“I love you.” I shove him toward the door and he laughs on his way out. “Sweet dreams, pretty girl.” He leans in and kisses my cheek, leaving me a quivering mess.
Oh boy…I’m in deep shit.
It’s just a crush, right? And because my body was denied sexual activity for so long, it took over the cruise controls of my lower half. But it’s just a crush and nothing more. That’s why I feel like I’m young and stupid and giddy. That’s the only explanation for how I act around him. I feel like I’m back in high school.
I lie in bed for hours and I frantically try to think of a way I can ignore it. As the sunlight starts to filter through my window, I come up empty.
Chapter Fourteen
Jack
As I drive Hunter’s car back to the city, every street, road, and highway from Hoboken to Brooklyn goes unseen. Autopilot takes over and allows me to twist the steering wheel or accelerate and break when needed. I can handle all the mundane tasks necessary to operate a moving vehicle while completely in a trance, and I spend the entire drive replaying the evening in my mind.
I can’t quite pinpoint why I feel so uneasy and unsettled. I made peace with Leila, and I really enjoyed her company. She is easy to talk to, and get along with. She’s caring, and also a nurturing person, not to mention gorgeous.
My head is in chaos and I’m irritated by the time I walk into my apartment. Seeing Hunter and Amanda going at it on the couch further annoys me.
“Hey, how did it go?”
“Hi, Amanda.”
She looks up and smiles. I can see the draw for Hunter. Not only is she very pretty, she’s very shy. She’s basically Hunter’s perfect woman.
“It went well. I think we turned a corner.” I offer no further explanation, as it wouldn’t matter anyway. Hunter thinks what Hunter thinks. Prior to heading over to Leila’s earlier, I told him that I wanted her to feel more comfortable with me, and for us to become friends.
He didn’t buy it and kept harassing me to leave Leila alone. I swore I didn’t have a hidden agenda. Well, I lied a little. My agenda isn’t just to get into her pants, as Hunter thinks. It’s also to spend time with her.
Wait, also?
Their make-out session on the couch resumes and is once again grating on my nerves. “I’ll leave you kids alone.”
; Normally I would head right for the roof but I haven’t spent a lot of time up there since our party. Instead, I lock myself in my room and start pacing like a caged animal. I can’t figure out what the fuck my problem is.
It’s late, and sleep is the last thing on my mind. The unsettled feelings I had earlier morph into complete irritation. A realization hits me full force like a tidal wave just as I grab my notebook to work on some of the songs I’ve started. I’m jealous of Hunter. I want to be with Leila at this moment on her couch kissing every inch of her.
Fuck…Fuck…Fuck!
While still holding my notebook, I abandon all my current projects to start a new one fueled by the thoughts that are consuming me. Like a man possessed, I frantically scribble down lyrics that pour out of me uncontrolled. My hand cramps from all the writing and my head hurts from thinking too much. I even go as far as strumming some basic chords to the words that validate my feelings.
The result is a heart-felt ballad. I most likely will never let another person hear it because it’s way too personal, but it needed to be released from my head.
Surprisingly, even after a sleepless night filled with nothing but tortured romance crap, I’m still wired. What the fuck? I don’t do tortured romance crap.
I jump into the shower to get ready for the day and the song gets stuck in my head on an endless loop. It continues to play even as I prepare my first cup of coffee.
“You ok?” Hunter stands directly in front of me without Amanda. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I never even heard him approach.
I ignore his question and ask, “Amanda’s not here?” I don’t want to get into this with him. I don’t even know what “this” is at the moment.
“Nope, she left last night.” He replies as he grabs his breakfast of choice. Hunter helps me forget my own issues by being a romantic sap. I should bet Scott on how long it will take for those two to screw each other’s brains out.
Hunter immediately knows what I’m thinking when I shake my head and smirk. “Back off, I know what I’m doing.”
“Ok. It’s your dick. Just make sure your constant hard on doesn’t interfere with playing drums.” I laugh at the visual in my head.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7) Page 100