Mac’s eyes whipped to Jared. “You are?”
“Just a couple of scratches, Mac,” he replied, his voice low and husky.
I folded my arms, hiding a shiver at the sexy sound. “Yeah, with a knife.”
While Mac and Henry were effectively distracted, I made a hasty exit for the bathroom and slammed the door with glee. Showered and dressed, I missed Travis by five minutes, so I set Jared up with his laptop, a coffee, and breakfast, and Henry and I hit the shops.
J: Can you get me some Gatorade while you’re there?
I handed over the shopping list to Henry as he pulled out a trolley. “Here. You make a start. I have to go to the chemist to get the prescription filled for Jared.”
He took the list.
“Wait.” I snatched the list back, got out a pen, and scribbled Gatorade on there and handed it back over.
“Make sure you only get the lime flavour,” I ordered as Henry looked over the list. “He doesn’t like any of the other flavours.”
Henry laughed.
“What?”
“You two. Like an old married couple already.”
I stopped searching the bottomless pit that was my handbag for the prescription so he could see my look of exasperation. “We are not! We’re just friends. I’d be doing the same for you, Henry.”
He rolled his eyes as he started moving off. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sandwich.”
The next three days found me running around between band rehearsals in the basement and looking after the big baby formerly known as Jared. I could only blame myself for telling him to message me if he needed me. I was worried I wouldn’t hear him over the noise of our music otherwise.
J: Can you bring me up a juice?
Or
J: I can’t find my USB. Have you seen it?
Sure he may have been milking it a little, but I was happy to oblige. Sometimes it was nice to be taken care of, and the man had just saved the lives of two young kids. Someone should have been giving him a medal for God’s sake, not just a glass of juice.
When he wasn’t in bed and had moved to the couch, he could simply shout down the stairs to the basement rather than message me.
“Evie, what’s for lunch?”
Or
“Have you seen my painkillers?”
By the time Saturday rolled around, I was walking on air. Not because I had another date with Tate later that afternoon, but because I was getting to escape the house.
“Babe?”
“Yeah,” I shouted back from the confines of my wardrobe.
“Can you get me some pills?”
I tossed another crappy outfit selection on the floor and walked out of the wardrobe. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just wanna make sure I’m up for seeing you guys play at the White Demon tonight.”
I arranged his pills and headed off for a shower, spending so long under the hot water I could have filled an Olympic pool five times over. Mac was obviously thinking the same thing. By the time I was pulling on my underwear, she barged through the bathroom door, her face like the black thunderclouds of a tropical storm. She didn’t even bother to check the wall this time when the door bounced off because the dent was already there anyway.
“Would you hurry up, asshead? You spend more time in this bathroom than I do sleeping.”
“I do not, Mactard. I have to get ready for my date. Tate is gonna drop me at the White Demon straight after. Is that okay?”
She sat the glass of wine in her hand down on the vanity with an angry clank at my mention of Tate. “Whatever. Out you get. I need a long hot bath.”
I adjusted the twisted strap of my bra as she started running the taps using short, angry movements. “Why are you being such a cow this afternoon?”
She finished adjusting the water temperature and turned to face me as she pinned her hair into a giant knot on the top of head. “Because I’m in a shitty mood. I haven’t been shopping in days, Travis is being an overbearing asswad brother, and my best friend has turned into the village idiot by dating Tetris Tate rather than my other brother.” She finished her rant in a shout and I flinched.
“I am not the freaking village idiot. Stop being an interfering bitch.”
She waved her hand. “What the fuck ever, Sandwich.”
Huffing, I grabbed my makeup bag, slammed the bathroom door on my way out, and stormed angrily into the bedroom.
I slammed my own bedroom door behind me, moved to the dresser, and yanking open a drawer, tossed clothes about in a mess while muttering angrily to myself.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?” I growled, whirling around from the dresser that now looked like a casualty of war with clothes hanging out the sides.
“Babe, fuck. Is all that for Tate?” He waved his hand at me.
I glanced down realising I was still in my gold satin and ivory lace creation and swore, stomping over to the wardrobe to get a robe.
“You’ve got to stop calling me babe, Jared. We’re friends. You don’t call Coby that, do you?”
As I reached for the hanger, I felt Jared’s arms slide around my waist and I stopped, the feel of his rough hands on my skin sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes as he pressed his warm chest up against my back and leaned down to press a kiss against my neck.
“You don’t like it when I call you that?” he asked me softly.
I did. I loved it. I didn’t want him to stop, but if we were going to make a go of this friendship, he couldn’t keep doing it. Lines needed to be drawn somewhere.
“No, Jared. I don’t like it,” I muttered weakly.
I turned around in his embrace and pushed against his chest. Ignoring my struggles, he leaned down to kiss me, and I sucked in a breath and turned my head. The effort cost me. My chest felt tight and tears pricked my eyes.
I renewed my efforts and shoved him, hard. “Let me go.”
He sighed, letting go and holding his hands up in surrender. “Friends. I know. Sorry.” Backing up, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching me as I shrugged quickly into my pretty silk robe.
Recovered, I replied to his question. “No.”
“No what?”
“The underwear isn’t for him. I always wear stuff like this.”
His eyes widened. “You mean all this time I’ve known you, you’ve been prancing about with that on underneath your clothes?”
I picked up a random item of clothing off the floor and flung it at his head. “Prancing? I don’t prance!”
“Prance, flounce, strut.” He shrugged his shoulders, grinning. “You do it all, baby.”
Completely amazed at how he managed to evoke such a range of emotions in just a few short moments, I shook my head in laughter and flopped to the floor to sit cross legged in front of the mirror on the back of the wardrobe door.
“What are you doing?”
I rubbed some pore minimiser into my face. “Putting my makeup on. Mac is operating under Diva mode and hogging the bathroom, so I have to do it in here.”
I looked at him through the mirror as he sat there watching me go through my makeup routine. It was slightly unnerving to have him study my every moment.
As I pulled the mascara out of my makeup bag, he snatched it out of my hand.
“Let me do that.” He grinned cheekily.
I looked at him in disbelief. “You want to put my mascara on?”
He shrugged. “What is it about women and mascara that they always have to put it on with their mouths open?”
I laughed. “It helps us concentrate.”
He grinned wickedly and grab bed his crotch. “I could find you something to concentrate on, baby.”
“Jared!”
“I’m kidding.” He laughed. “Come sit on the bed,” he ordered and pulled me over, sitting me down, kneeling between my legs.
“You better not muck this up, Jared,” I warned, “because you can’t come back from a bad mascara jab. I’ll have to wash my whole face and
start again.” I was not looking forward to another caterpillar eyebrow.
“Relax, Evie. I do a mean panda face,” he joked.
I arched a brow.
“I’ve done this before, granted it was a long time ago when Mac was seventeen, but if she let me at her face, then you know you can trust me.”
I found that very hard to believe, and my mouth opened wide in shock. “Mac let you at her face with a mascara wand?”
He nodded, amusement curling his lips, but still his face was sincere. “It was Mitch’s fault. We were lifting weights at home, and you know how competitive Mac gets. She sprained both her wrists on a weight she shouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near. The next night she had a date with Tom Fraser who was apparently the man of the hour. With Mum and Dad away, Mitch being on her shit list, and Travis conveniently disappearing, who do you think was left with helping her get pretty?”
I laughed wholeheartedly at the image of Mac ordering Jared about with makeup. “How have I never heard this story?”
He grinned at my response. “I’ve got plenty more where those came from.” He held up the mascara. “Now will you let me?”
Thoughtful, I pursed my lips. “On one condition.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Give me more stories.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
He leaned forward, gently brushing the wand across my eyelashes, and proceeded to do just that. I stared into his green eyes as he spoke. They were focused in intense concentration on my eyelashes, and the little flecks of gold had me mesmerised. He pulled back now and then to check on his progress. Then he grinned, flashing his dimple.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful, Evie,” he whispered quietly.
I flushed. “Thanks.”
He leaned in to do the other eye. “You know, we’ve never sat down and watched a movie together. Tell me what your favourite movie is. We can watch it tomorrow.”
“Anchorman,” I said without hesitation.
He pulled back, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah? Will Ferrell, huh?”
“I don’t know how to put this, but I’m kind of a big deal,” I said with a chuckle.
“Would you like to come to the party in my pants?” he asked, laughing. Putting movie quotes aside, his face turned serious. “I would’ve thought you’d say something like The Notebook or Sleepless in Seattle or some other girly crap.”
I flushed. “The Notebook isn’t girly crap. It’s a beautiful movie.”
“Course it is.” He nodded unconvincingly.
“You haven’t seen it, have you?”
Worried I’d ask him to watch it, he ignored my question.
“You’re all done.” He sat back on his heels to inspect his handiwork.
Feeling mild panic at the thought of having black streaks all over my face, I raced to the mirror. “Jared!”
“What?”
He came over to stand behind me as I pursed my lips, examining my eyes closely. “You actually did an excellent job.”
He winked. “I excel at anything I do if you’d care to find out.”
I laughed at his playful attitude, and forgetting about his stitches, shoved at his shoulder.
“Ouch!” he yelped.
“Sorry, sorry.” I patted his arm soothingly as he grumbled. “You should leave so I can get dressed. Tate will be here any minute.”
Jared frowned at the mention of Tate’s name and stalked over to the dresser where he’d shoved my clothes over to make room for his own.
“Right, Tate. How could I forget?” He grabbed a shirt and shrugged it on before he walked out the door, closing it quietly in his wake.
Surrounded by silence, I sat down on the bed and worried that I was somehow ruining everything with my idiocy, but I wasn't sure how to fix it without risking anyone getting hurt.
Chapter Eight
J: So what was on this afternoon’s agenda? A heavy bout of Halo?
E: Do you have to message me during every date I go on?
J: Of course. Where’s the fun otherwise?
Tate gave my phone an eye roll. “Does that thing ever stop?”
“Apparently not,” I muttered and tucked it carefully back in my purse.
We pulled into the car park at The White Demon Warehouse after a late afternoon trek around Paddington Markets. We were only there a couple of hours, so there wasn’t time to see everything, but Tate said the markets were on the Things You Have to do in Sydney list. I had to agree if the mountains of bags in the back of the car were anything to go by.
E: Paddington Markets.
J: Seriously. He took you shopping? That guy is good.
E: Yes. You be good or you won’t get your present.
Tate switched off the ignition and turned to me. “I think we’re a little early. Do you wanna go in and have a quick drink?”
I checked the time and nodded. “Sure, but I need to be back stage in twenty minutes to help set up and start my vocal warm up.”
“Yeah? How long does that usually take?”
“I usually just do some scales for about half an hour.”
J: You got me a present? What is it?
E: It’s a surprise.
“You don’t happen to have an older sister you haven’t mentioned, do you?”
He pulled the keys out of the ignition and gave me a puzzled glance. “No, why?”
I explained my first date with Beetle Bob. “The bridge climb and the markets were unexpected.”
He laughed. “You were expecting a Halo marathon? I can teach you how to play if you really want, but I didn’t think it was your kinda speed.”
I grinned. “I have several speeds. I don’t mind a computer game now and then. I just thought maybe you might have had a little double X chromosome whispering in your ear on the best places to take your date.”
He got out of the car and came around to open my door sheepishly. “One of the girls at the station might have done that a couple of times.”
J: Mac has a surprise for you too she says.
Mac’s message came through a second later.
M: Brace yourself, Sandwich. I have an epic surprise for you.
I got out of the car wondering what the hell was going on but confident her surprise wouldn’t outdo the present I got for her. What could possibly beat an acre sized piece of homemade double chocolate fudge and a pair of jade earrings that matched her newest dress purchase from Collette Dinnigan?
Before I could reach into the car for my bag, or even blink, Tate had me pushed up against the car, his legs between mine and his lips on me. Not even a second later, I heard someone shout my name.
Tate rested his forehead against mine. “Christ,” he muttered. “Between your friends and your phone, I feel like I can never get you alone for five minutes.”
I peeked over Tate’s shoulder. Mac, Henry, Travis, and Jared were walking towards the car.
“Evie,” Mac shouted again, grinning and waving happily.
This left me feeling confused. Mac was in Diva mode when I’d left earlier, and being caught in a passionate embrace with Tate should’ve turned her rabid.
“Hey, guys.”
I pushed away from Tate, untucking his arms from my waist, but he used the opportunity to hold my hand in his, tugging me close and rubbing his thumb across my palm in lazy circles. Jared’s eyes cut to our linked hands and he frowned.
“What’s going on?”
Mac dragged me away from Tate and grabbed me in a hug, jumping up and down. “We’ve got a scout, baby!” she screeched.
I stopped breathing. “Wait, stop.”
She stopped.
“What? A scout?”
She grinned, nodding her head like a maniac. “Not just some random scout, Sandwich. One who’s come specifically to see Jamieson.”
“You got us a fucking scout?” I whispered, tears in my eyes.
She started madly jumping up and down again, and I screamed, joinin
g in with her lunatic behaviour.
“We got a fucking scout,” I screamed at Jared in excitement, and he laughed at my hysteria. I pulled Henry into a hug and three of us jumped up and down like we were eight year olds on pogo sticks.
I stopped and squeezed Henry hard. “Henry...”
He squeezed back hard. “I know my beautiful girl.”
“Tell me,” I ordered Mac when I gained control of my mental faculties.
“Okay,” she said happily, “let’s all go get a quick drink.”
“Fuck a quick drink. Let’s get a bottle of champagne.”
I leaped on to Henry’s back in excitement, and he hollered as he piggybacked me towards the entrance of the bar. Laughing, I turned my head to wink at Jared as the group followed behind us.
“Will you still love me when I’m famous, baby?” I joked.
Jared shook his head and I turned back around. Tate hadn't missed the complete and utter look of adoration on Jared's face and eyed the two of us warily as Henry set me down inside the door.
I started to tremble with nerves when Henry, Travis, and Tate hit the bar. Mac took my hand and squeezed it hard when she realised I was losing it.
“Mackerelface, I love you.” My voice wobbled as the emotion overwhelmed me.
“Oh shit.” She pointed a warning finger at me. “Don’t you start the floodgates, Sandwich. You’ll ruin my makeup.”
Deep breaths helped me pull myself together, and the next half hour was a blur of champagne and chatter.
“Famous rock star now, hey Evie?” Travis winked at me from across the table with the words he said as more of a statement then a question.
“Yep. Too good for any of you plebs.” I arched my brow loftily before laughing. “Oh my God, Mac, we have to go backstage and talk to the Rice Bubbles. Do they know?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.”
With Tate saying he’d hang around to watch the show, Mac, Henry, and I left for the dressing room.
Henry busted open the backstage door with force in his excitement. “We’re here, motherfuckers!”
Jake, Cooper, and Frog greeted our arrival from their various positions on the floor where it looked like a heated argument was going on. It was fierce and after a moment became apparent they were arguing about whom of the three could “pull the most chicks,” a guitarist, keyboardist, or drummer. Bets were being placed. I grabbed my purse and handed over a twenty in favour of Jake.
Give Me Love Page 10