by Dean, Ali
I narrow my eyes. “Jack, you don’t need to do me any favors.” I don’t want to use him.
“Are you kidding? You’re a presence already, Kick, only going to get bigger. It would be mutually beneficial.”
That isn’t even close to true. I’m not a real dancer. I learned my moves from watching YouTube videos. Anyway, I want any success in the Kick Spark brand to be my own. I don’t want to be indebted to anyone, or to feel like I got there from handouts.
“We’ll see,” I say with a shrug.
Jack leans forward, forcing me to meet his eyes. He gives me a stern look. “What?” I ask, defensive.
“You’re not just giving me one night again, are you?” Jack doesn’t hide the twinge of hurt, and maybe some anger, in his question.
“You think that’s why I’m not jumping on the idea of being in your music video?” I ask, a little surprised. He’s been so freakishly perceptive about me all night, I figured he saw through my hesitation about the video too. But I guess he’s got some uncertainty about me that’s clouding his ability to read me on this. Given how things went between us nine months ago, I don’t blame him.
“It isn’t?” he asks.
“No.” I take his shirt, pulling him closer, and he slides onto his knees, hovering over me. “I don’t know what this is between us, but I like it. And I don’t want it to end.” All night I’ve been worried maybe he decided he really only wanted one more night after all. He’s telling me now he still wants more with me, just like he did back in October. And the relief of that settles deep.
“Good.”
Jack kisses me then. It’s soft, his lips brushing mine. I don’t even realize he’s untying my halter until the fabric loosens, then pools at my waist. Jack continues kissing me as he unclasps my bra, and when it falls to the ground the sensation of my unrestricted breasts makes me gasp. He pulls away to look at me, and my chest heaves with relief, my nipples tingling with freedom after being confined behind a bra on a hot day.
Jack swallows as he traces a finger between them. He cups one, and then the other, seemingly fascinated, like he’s touching boobs for the very first time. Leading me onto my back, I let him take time exploring me, swirling his tongue around my nipples, grazing his teeth along the underside of my breasts.
A slow burn is building low in my belly, and the ache between my legs starts to throb with impatience. Without even realizing I’m doing it, my hips lift up, seeking more. Jack tugs down my shorts and panties in one swoop before moving his fingers to my center, a thumb pressing on my nub. I follow his gaze, watching as his index finger rubs along my seam and enters me, soliciting a moan.
People walk by only a few feet from us, so I try to stay quiet, but it’s nearly impossible as Jack pumps two fingers in me, his erection straining to break free from his athletic shorts.
“Please, Jack,” I whimper, finally resorting to begging.
He moves his eyes from where he’s touching me to meet my half-lidded ones. I reach for the edge of his shirt, helping him pull it over his head and watching as he shucks off his shorts and briefs. Jack takes his wallet out of his shorts pocket, removing a condom and ripping it open with his teeth before sheathing himself. On his knees, he positions himself at my center before entering me with such deliberate slowness, the contrast from last time is undeniable. Instead of the ferocious thrusts he gave me before, he hikes up my legs, angling us so he hits me deep.
A rush of air flows past my lips at the sensation, almost painful. The tightness as he drives his hips back reminds me it’s been nine months since anyone entered me.
“You okay?” Jack asks, pausing.
I nod, unable to speak, overwhelmed by the sight of his muscled body above me.
Jack’s eyes drift closed as he slides back in with a groan. “God, Fireball, this feels too good.”
I know exactly what he means. This time, we feel connected not just in the biblical sense. But deeper – as if our stories are melding together. Intertwining and locking. Grabbing hold. He shook something loose from me months ago, claimed it, and now? As sweat drips from his forehead and I brush a curl away to see his eyes, I give him more pieces of my soul. This time willingly. Because he’s handing over some of himself too, opening up to me as he moves inside, showing me more than his body. There’s a trust between us I’ve never had with anyone else. It scares and thrills me at the same time.
He lifts my leg so my foot rests on his shoulder as he drives impossibly further into me, stoking the burn as his fingers brush my clit in rhythm with his thrusts.
Jack opens his eyes, intensifying the connection between us before he picks up the pace. My release is violent when it hits, my body exploding and shattering in a flood of sensation. Jack’s right there with me, shuddering with a powerful release that sends vibrations of pleasure through me. His orgasm is long and I savor it as I feel him fill the condom inside me.
He leans forward then, taking me in a long, lingering kiss. This is the kiss I wanted months ago when he rushed out. But I’m getting it now, and as he pulls away, pausing to search my eyes, I have the most alarming urge to say, “I love you.” It’s downright terrifying, even as I know it’s impossible.
I’ve never actually fallen in love, never come close. It was always a game, a fictional world I’d create for a few hours of pleasure. The guys never seemed to mind playing along. Some didn’t get it. Wanted more, and thought the feelings were real. But they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Because I never let them see past the outer layer.
With Jack, I can’t hide. And I don’t want to. Whatever this is, I’m not resisting it. Not anymore.
I find the plastic bag I was planning to use for laundry and give it to Jack to use as a trash bag for the used condom. He pulls on his boxer briefs before lying down next to me. I turn to rest my head on his chest and throw a leg over his.
“Is this okay?” he asks, voice rough.
“Yeah. Remember? I’m not the same girl.”
His fingers roam up and down my bare back. “I can stay here tonight?”
“Yes.” I hesitate before raising my head, resting my chin on his chest. “And the next night, and the one after that.”
He raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t ask the questions hanging in the air. What about after the festival? Do we go back to our lives? What exactly are we doing here?
“I’ll take it. I’d say we could stay in the bus. But honestly? This is pretty nice. I’m sick of the bus.”
“Plus you share it with three dudes.”
“And two girls,” he adds.
“Yeah. Be careful around that Addy. She has a little crazy in her eyes if you ask me.”
Jack chuckles, and I feel the reverberations in my own chest. “Don’t worry, Fireball. I can handle her.”
Fatigue washes over me fast, but I’m not ready to fall asleep. I need to convey to Jack somehow that this is more. Not just between our bodies or by exchanged looks. I can’t be certain he understood that language the same way I did. I don’t know that he recognized what our eyes and bodies were saying, doing to one another. No, I need words.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think this is a three-night stand. It doesn’t feel like it to me. It’s not only that I’m different. This is different.” My head is in his chest again, so it’s easier to say all this without eye contact. “Us,” I add, to make it clear, just in case.
“No, Fireball. This definitely isn’t any kind of stand at all. What do you call a non-stand?”
“A sit?”
He laughs, and I love the sound. “Whatever it is, it’s something.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It sure is.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jack
I didn’t want Kick to leave my side, and I almost invited her to hang with the band all morning as we prepped for the stage. But I couldn’t risk throwing the band off before our biggest appearance to date. Will and Carson would remember her from that night a
fter the Happy Hollow – Kick wasn’t the kind of girl you forget – and they’d be curious, distracted.
As we sat on the bus discussing the setlist, it was Kick I was thinking about. Which songs had we played that night at the Happy Hollow? I wanted to blow her away. Nearly a hundred thousand people out there, and I was picking songs for the setlist based on what I thought would impress one woman. We wanted to close out the set with one of our new songs. It would be the first time putting something from our new album out there, and we had three songs to decide between that had the right energy and tone for a closer at a big festival. The one we were leaning toward, it was about Kick. And she would know it as soon as she heard it. I could tell the guys I wanted to do another one and that would be that, but I didn’t. I had known when I wrote the lyrics that if she listened, if she paid attention, she’d suspect it was about her. I didn’t expect her to hear it for the first time after we spent the night together. A night that I could really only put down as the best in my life.
God, if I’d had any notion that what I felt for her wasn’t real, it was shot right to hell after five more minutes with her. I fucking loved that the first thing she said to me was to check in about Gracie. Yeah, a drop-dead gorgeous woman with more talents up her sleeve than anyone I’d met, remembered I had a little sister and somehow knew that talking about Gracie would throw any awkwardness between us out the window. We moved right on past the way things were left between us and into the moment from there.
When her sister threw her under the bus, sharing that Kick had no musical talent, I couldn’t believe it. I’d tracked her posts about music and she knew her shit. She didn’t talk like a musician, but she knew what worked and what didn’t, more so than a casual fan. She’d called out well-known bands when they were going in the wrong direction, when a live show didn’t meet expectations. She was brave with her opinions, and her views held weight.
But I didn’t tell her all of that. I let on that I’d checked out her account, but that was it. I didn’t want her to know I’d looked at every photo and read nearly every single thing she’d posted on the Internet. There was honesty between us, but I knew telling her the extent of my interest at this point would have freaked her out. It seemed Kick was willing to let me in, but I didn’t trust she wouldn’t run for the hills if I showed all my cards.
“Yo, Jack,” Townie said, giving a playful smack on my cheek. “Snap out of it, man. Will and I think it’s time to say somethin’ to Carson.”
Carson was here earlier, but he’d gone out a moment ago, saying he wanted food. “Right. Yeah, he looked beat, huh? He sleep here last night?”
“Got back at four this morning,” Will said. “Let’s wait till after the show. Don’t want to set him off right before we go up.”
The three of us were on the same page on that at least. “And we might want to rein in Addy while we’re at it,” Townie said. “Maybe not the best time to bring this up, but she’s startin’ to drive me crazy getting all up in our business. We gave her a couple simple jobs to help out with, and she’s tryin’ to take over our lives? That shit does not fly with me.”
Will added helpfully, “She’s hung up on Jack too, and that shit’s getting old.”
Townie snorted his agreement.
They weren’t wrong, but I was surprised I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. “We’ll deal with that later. Let’s nail down this set. I’m down closing with Fireball.” It was Kick’s song. Guess I was about to show more of my hand. I was holding on to what we shared last night, putting my faith in the connection I knew she couldn’t deny, and praying like hell I wasn’t making a mistake.
Chapter Fifteen
Kick
Jack on stage is a sight to behold. Without any sound at all, I’d still be totally enraptured by him. The way he closes his eyes when he sings. Or bends his torso slightly when he plays a riff. It’s as though he’s making love to the guitar. I’m not as close to the stage this time as I was at the Happy Hollow. It’s impossible with the security boundary. Even with hundreds of people between us, the energy pouring out of him reaches deep within me. Almost like he’s directing it right at me. It’s the biggest audience of his career, and it’s silly to believe he’s thinking of me at all, but I can’t help it. After the night we had, waking together in the tent this morning and getting breakfast, the bond between us is undeniable. We’ve wound ourselves around each other. With thousands rocking out to the sound of Jack’s voice, I have to believe I’m somewhere in there, intertwined in the emotions filling each soul-shattering note.
Jack Kingston in all his glory aside, the band is rocking. They’re the best band to play yet this weekend, and the crowd is eating it up. Yeah, I’m biased, no doubt, but the crowd’s reaction tells me I’m not off. The guys are totally in sync with one another, taking the jams to a level only achieved by how long they’ve played together. A strange sense of pride, as if I have any ownership over Jack or the band, swells inside of me for the guys on stage, and I’m thrown off by the odd reaction. They’re up there on one of the biggest stages in the world, and owning it. As if they were born to do this.
The crowd roars with excitement when Jack addresses the crowd. He’s not one to say much on stage. A quick hello before getting right to the music. Now, he tells us it’s the last tune for the set, and the first time they’ll play one of their new songs. The hum of anticipation at this has me bouncing on my feet, clapping my hands. Though hundreds, hell probably thousands, of women are squealing their love for Jack at the top of their lungs, I swear his eyes find mine in the crowd. He flashes a smile before strumming a chord and then turning to the band, nodding the beat.
Shay turns from Jett’s arms to look at me with wide eyes, her mouth forming an “Oh!”
I just grin smugly at her with a shrug. Yeah, I’m feeling pretty damn good about myself at this moment. About life.
And then he starts singing. And I stop smiling, shock washing over me as my body abruptly stops, still as a statue. He’s singing about me. There’s no way he met another girl and sat on a diving platform with her. No way he sang her a lullaby. Couldn’t get her out of his mind, his heart, his soul. Holy shit. He’s singing about the night we met.
You stole my attention
One night at a dance
With lips ruby red
I didn’t have a chance
You stole my heart
From our perch way up high
The different perspective
Made me feel alive
You stole a piece of my soul
As I sang you my lullaby
But as I walked away
I regretted making you cry
My heart was set ablaze
With your fireball
From the moment I saw you
You were my fireball
My heart was set ablaze
With your fireball
From the moment I saw you
You were my fireball
My fireball
Set me on fire
My fireball
Sear your soul to mine
Fireball - my fireball
Be my fireball
I think I might faint. The world around me spins as I stay still, the lyrics seeping through me. This connection that sparked that night outside the alley, it’s the real deal. I wasn’t alone in how much it rocked me. He didn’t write this song in the three hours we were apart before he took the stage today. They’ve practiced it, no doubt about it. I rested heavy on his mind, his heart, his soul over the past nine months and now he’s telling the entire world about it.
I’m such a goner.
* * *
We don’t meet up for another few hours. Jack texts he’s hanging with the band behind the stage for a bit. As much as I wish he was here with me for the rest of the sets, I bet he needs to unwind and doesn’t want to stare at the stage he was just on, analyzing his performance from the audience’s viewpoint. Besides, I need the time to absorb the emotional epip
hany that struck when he sang Fireball. I agree to meet him by the catered food tent for a bite of dinner between sets. I can’t guarantee I’ll eat it over the food vendor options by the campsites, but I’m curious enough to check out what this VIP wristband can do for me.
Jett and Shay come with, and before I know it, we’re mingling with the musicians. I recognize a number of them, and I can see why they stay separated from the crowds. It’s quieter back here, fewer people, the scene more relaxing and low-key. It seems an unspoken rule that if you want to get up to no good, you go join the mob outside. Or maybe shenanigans happen later for the VIPs, not during performances. Yeah, that’s probably it. I just can’t see some of the musicians here chilling with the campers. They’re too big, faces too recognizable. Hell, Jack will have to keep a low profile after being on stage tonight. Yeah, he got attention last night, but it will triple now after he rocked the audience’s world.
And when I spot Jack standing by a table, a small crowd around him even amongst other artists, I know I’m right. Things have already changed for Jack since I met him, and once again, I’m here right as he’s on the precipice of something even bigger.
He turns his head, almost like he senses I’m near, and his eyes find mine. Holy hell, he looks good. Jack’s showered and changed, a wide grin splitting his face at the sight of me. That alone makes my insides go all warm and gooey.
Such.
A.
Goner.
There are some big names in the group around Jack, and one pats him on the back. The rest of the band is nearby, including Addy and her friend Cassie. They’re all soaking in praise, dissecting the performance, I’m guessing. But Jack’s eyes don’t waver from mine. I recognize one of the women in the group as the lead singer for a band I adore, as well as a few others I’ve praised on my Instagram account. Still, it doesn’t slow me down from walking straight up to Jack.