by Cole, Starla
He didn’t know what to say now. It was all mixed up in this moment. His past. His present. And this girl. The one he’d always wanted.
She was right in front of him.
He couldn’t blow it.
3. Jewel: Feeling It
Now THAT had been something to wake up to. Jewel sat back down on the sofa and tried not to laugh as she thought of Rage’s flopping parts. He was really in over his head. He might be a budding rock star, but she could see the scared kid he used to be. Despite the leather and the styled up hair, he was still James, that neighbor boy she was always stumbling over growing up.
Another flood of heat shot between her legs. Voyeurism. She’d never been that up close and personal to other people doing stuff. The girl had noticed when Jewel woke up, but seemed to revel in showing off and grabbing at Rage anyway. Curiosity had kept Jewel watching for a minute. Then something had cracked inside, so she’d interrupted them by dashing out.
Rage turned from the table where he’d picked up a couple beers. Her heart caught a little at how crazy hot he looked now. She tried to picture him as a little kid, but with him standing like that, all rock star grittiness, it was hard to conjure the old image.
She tore her gaze away and realized that unlike when they were kids, when she’d enjoyed sitting near him and listening to his troubles, right now she was going to have to force herself to focus. Her random hot feelings didn’t make any sense. He was the same kid she’d known all her life. Three years away couldn’t change that.
He seemed nervous now. “Beer okay?”
Not a bad idea. “Sure.”
“Any preferences?”
“Nope.”
He pried the caps off and handed one over.
She clinked her against his. “To getting away with illegal drinking.”
He laughed. “Yeah, perks of being a musician.” He took a long slug, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. His smooth boy’s neck was gone, just like the slender arms and knobby knees. Everything was dark, sinewy, and adult. It was as though he wasn’t the same person.
Jewel felt heat flood through her yet again and wondered what the hell was going on with her. She took a long pull from the bottle, watching Rage over the rim. She needed to be thinking of him as this neighbor kid in trouble, not all these other ridiculous things. Clearly he’d brought her here for advice.
He seemed nervous and threaded his fingers through his puff of perfect hair. She remembered that gesture, one she’d seen him do a thousand times over the years when he was anxious or in trouble.
“So,” she said. “I never quite knew why you wanted me here so bad.”
His dark eyes searched her with a longing that knocked her sideways. Something was wrong. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
He cleared his throat. “Everything seems out of control. The tour. The agent. The execs. And hell, it seems like everyone expects me to be this thing.”
“Thing?”
“This image of rock and roll.” He rolled the bottle between his palms. “Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together.”
“What about your dad?”
“I have to whitewash everything I tell him.”
“I feel like I missed everything.” Jewel began peeling the label off her beer.
“You haven’t been back.” He shifted his gaze from his bottle, those hazel eyes turning to her beneath lashes as long and black as they had been when he was little.
Jewel drank from the bottle, a long pull that gave her time to cool off before her answer. He was heart-breakingly gorgeous now, nothing like the awkward boy she left behind. “I can’t afford it. Tickets are a grand, and I don’t have extra money lying around.”
“I do.”
He stared at her with a longing she hadn’t seen from any man she’d dated, not even the current boy, Ethan, back in London. Her heart beat faster, traitorous. His lips were full — how had she never noticed them before? And stupidly, ridiculously, she thought of him kissing her. Jesus. She knew him before he was potty trained. Where was this coming from?
She was mixing things up, somehow. London was so lonely, her smattering of friends more like acquaintances. Even Ethan was polite, studious, friendly. Not passionate. And he didn’t look like Rage. Her old neighbor inspired foolish behavior, no doubt.
“I was hoping...” He trailed off, and now Jewel leaned forward. What did a rock star hope for? And what did it have to do with her?
She held her breath waiting. It was bound to be something ordinary. He was hoping she’d review his contract. Or go over an interview.
He set the bottle on a side table, taking in a big breath. “I was hoping you would stay a while. I want you to go on this tour with me.”
Jewel sat up straight. “Why? What do you need me for?”
He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I don’t know. I just know I need you around. I get so lost. Crash and Metal are already using...”
“Drugs?” Jewel gripped her bottle. “Are you?”
“No! I mean, yes, I tried it, but I don’t know. It didn’t seem worth it. It was such a damn cliché.”
She tried to control her breathing. He seemed way in over his head. Drugs. Random chicks in his pants. “That girl, today? Did you know her?”
“No. She just came in.”
“Is that happening a lot?”
“No. But some.”
“Are you protecting yourself.”
“Yes! I mean, mostly.”
“James!” She imagined him with a string of girls and the pit of her stomach got heavy and hot.
“Can we not talk about that?” He reached across the sofa and took her hand. “I’m just so glad you’re here. I feel better when you’re here.”
Her fingers burned where he touched them. “But I’ve been gone.”
“One thousand, one hundred, and forty-five days.”
Shit. He knew how many days. A warmth spread through her. “I’m done with the classwork,” she whispered.
“I know. That’s why I delayed the tour.”
“You delayed a concert tour for me?” This was crazy. “We haven’t even talked since I visited at what — Christmas?”
“Not then. I missed your visit, off in Portland. And you didn’t come home this summer after you graduated. I asked Matt about it.” He wouldn’t look her in the eye now, but stared at their joined hands.
“I had a chance at a job.” Her voice was scratchy, her throat hot. “In London. I’ve been waiting to hear about whether I got it.”
“Can you stay here a while?” He glanced up finally, and his expression was so much like when he wanted something as a kid that her heart hurt.
“I had planned to be here for a week.”
He nodded. “It’s a start.”
“I’m not sure where I’m staying here. We’re six hours from home.”
His thumb rubbed along the back of her hand. “I have a room for you.”
Her breath caught. “With you?”
“You have your own room.”
Disappointment coursed through her, but she rebelled against it. Of course she should have her own room. “Okay. Thank you.”
“It is next to mine.”
Her heart hammered. “Good.”
He stared at their hands again. “We could go there.”
Her hand shook, but she reached out anyway to grasp his forearm, thick and muscled. “Let’s do that.”
The smile that crossed his face lit up the whole room. He was so genuinely happy to see her. Nobody had ever been so completely thrilled to be with her as him.
4. Rage: So Close
Rage was grateful the tour was just getting started and he didn’t have fans or photographers stalking him everywhere he went. The car dropped them off at the side entrance to the hotel, and he and Jewel got in without incident, like two ordinary people coming in from a night out.
The hotel was grand, but nothing crazy. He wasn’t paying for it, at
least not directly. The money for these things was one of the concerns he had. How did he even know what they could afford?
Jewel brushed against him and all his worries vanished. She was here. He kept telling himself that he wanted her for her international business degree. For her knowhow. Her level-headedness. Her willingness to ask questions.
But he knew better. He hadn’t gotten over her leaving. He had always known he couldn’t have her, not when she was three years older. But now, hopefully, that age thing didn’t make a difference. Sometimes he thought half of what drove him all the years he built the band and found gigs and stayed up all night writing songs was making sure he was interesting enough, cool enough, that she wouldn’t see him as a kid anymore.
He knew he had changed a lot while she was gone, but Jewel looked different too. Her brown hair was about the same, long and flowing, and those perfect eyebrows still showcased those amazing eyes. But her figure was more defined, with sharper edges. Her legs were lean in the rhinestone jeans, winking at him in the hall lights as she walked. Her bra didn’t hold her in tight, but let her swing a little beneath the “London” on her shirt.
Rage gripped the key cards tighter. He knew he was thinking all these things about her when he’d instructed the agent to book her a flight. He also knew he shouldn’t have been. It was all so mixed up. She had always been nice to him. Maybe he was wrong, and he had no chance. But he had to try.
He stopped at the door to her room. This was crazy. Jewel would always think of him as the snot-nosed boy she’d been forced to endure, her brother’s obnoxious friend.
“We’re home,” he said, slipping the card in the lock to open the door.
Jewel flipped on a light as she went in ahead of him, and he wondered if he should let her go now. But he’d waited so long, anxious just like when she left to study abroad, a desertion that had crushed him for months.
Rage had thought he’d loved a couple girls, but it didn’t take much for him to realize he compared them all to Jewel. He had no idea how to approach her, or if he even should. Hell, if she freaked out, he could lose everything — she might not even want to see him anymore.
“It’s a great room.” She set her phone on the side table and popped open a suitcase on the bed. “Thank you for having the driver bring my things.”
“One of the perks.” He stuck his hand in his pocket and tried to appear casual as he leaned on the doorframe. A couple people came down the hall, laughing. He glanced at them a moment, but they passed on by. “Things just sort of happen — stuff gets delivered, food appears, bills are paid.”
She laughed a little nervously. Was she anxious too? He squeezed his hand into a fist, still feeling the ache from the concert and playing his guitar for hours straight. The adrenaline was wearing off. He held out his hand and splayed out his fingers, feeling the stretch. His wrist too, was aching.
Jewel came back. “Hurting? You used to complain after you guys would practice too long.”
He closed his fist again. “I think I played a little more intensely than I usually do.”
She wrapped her hands around his and pried his fingers open one at a time.
His heart was banging in his chest like Metal was splintering sticks on a rim. She felt gentle and cool where he seemed clumsy and overheated.
“When I had a typing job for a while, it always helped to do this.” She pressed her thumbs into his palm.
The pressure was excruciating, an ache and a release. He swallowed, this throat thick, and hoped she wouldn’t look down because the tight pants were going to show the rest of his reaction.
Her hair obscured her features. Rage wanted to sit down, to really feel her hands on him. He also wanted to shuck his clothes, to get more of her skin, more contact, but he definitely couldn’t do that.
Everything rushed at him now, and he knew he needed to get out of there fast. He had to sort through this, study his motivations, make a plan. He hadn’t thought past the moment of getting her here. And now she was.
But he couldn’t move. The doorframe pressed into his shoulder and her hair brushed his arm. He closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch, the kneading of his hand. She took her time with each finger, pinching and releasing each section. Finally she took his hand fully into hers, threading their fingers together, and squeezed.
He opened his eyes again when she froze. After a sharp intake of breath, she tucked her hair behind her ear and Rage could see she was staring at the bulge in his pants. She bit her lip and looked up at him, a question, confusion on her face.
Shit, he’d scared her. He should have changed. Should have controlled himself.
But she squeezed his hand again. “Weird isn’t it?” she asked.
He had to clear his throat to speak. “What’s weird?”
“How we are the same two people we’ve always been, but we’re also — not.”
Now he squeezed her back. Did she get it? Did he dare hope she felt it too? “Yeah.”
“You’ve been around since we were small.” Her breathing was a little faster now, and Rage's cock jumped. It seemed to know something he couldn’t quite get his head around yet. He waited for her to talk again, as it seemed like she had more to say.
But she let go of him. “I’m tired,” she said. “I guess we can talk tomorrow about what you want me to do? How to help?”
He forced a smile. “Absolutely.”
“Is there anything you want me to look over? A contract? Numbers?”
Rage felt his eagerness dropping like a stone. “Not tonight. We can save it all for tomorrow.”
Jewel nodded. “All right. We’ll figure this out. It seems fun.”
“What will you do if that job pans out in London?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when it blows up.”
He laughed. God, he’d missed her. He backed toward the door, wishing he didn’t have to. But he had to take it easy. “Have a good night.”
“You too, James — Rage.” She sat on the bed, slender, beautiful in the pink shirt. God, he didn’t want to leave. “What should I call you now?” she asked. “It’s all so strange.”
His fingers closed over the handle to the door. “Whatever works for you.” He’d always hated James, but now that he’d heard her say it, maybe it wasn’t so bad.
“I think Rage suits you,” she said. “You’re all grown up now.”
He thought she might have glanced over his body. He wasn’t sure. He surged with hope again. “It’s nice to feel like I’ve become the person I wanted to be.”
“Just don’t screw it up,” she said, laughing. “Like that time you decided to call yourself Harry Houdini and lock yourself up in chains.”
Rage flooded with embarrassment. She knew everything stupid thing he had done. “How do you think I got the name of the band, Rage in Chains?” he asked.
He walked out into the hall listening to her merry laugh. When it closed, he leaned back against it. She was here. He’d gotten her here. Now if he could just hold on to her somehow.
5. Jewel: Road to LA
Jewel hadn’t packed a lot of things, jumping on a flight without a lot of notice. She had almost hoped her boyfriend Ethan would protest, that he would show some sort of actual interest in her or emotion. But he’d just reminded her not to take liquids in her carry on.
She sorted through her bag, wondering how long she’d be here, what she was doing.
There was no denying she was feeling something about Rage that wasn’t there before. But she had Ethan. And probably a job — she should be hearing any day. How had she ended up on a tour with a rock star neighbor?
She sat on the edge of the bed. This was the dream, though, wasn’t it? That some day some hotshot rock star would set his eyes on you, and you’d be pulled into this crazy party lifestyle and live like someone in a movie.
How often would a chance like this come along? Never.
She thought of Rage on the other side of the wall an
d what he might do if she knocked on his door.
Instead, she decided to Google him a bit. She had followed his career a little, not a lot. Matt sometimes sent her emails linking to stories about him. He seemed sort of pissed that Rage didn’t answer him when he tried to contact him now. He insisted he’d always been Rage’s best friend. But now, Jewel wondered why they had been friends at all. Matt was a science nerd. Jewel loved him. He was her brother. But he and Rage didn’t have much in common. Not even when they were kids. Matt wanted to play with chemistry sets. Rage wanted to blow out amplifiers in his garage.
She pulled up her phone. Apparently Rage had been discovered playing in some dive bar in Santa Fe. He got a contract and it took almost a year to produce the actual album. She found some interviews, some photo shoots, and scattered articles. Then a gossip rag headline caught her attention. “Hot rocker Rage in Chains spotted with daughter of producer.”
Jewel pulled it up. The story was from two days ago! Her body shot through with ice as she read the story about Rage and this girl he was seeing. Pictures of them kissing on stage. All super recent.
She tossed her phone on the bed. What had she been thinking? He had this girlfriend, and if she was part of the whole signing package, then he wasn’t going to be leaving her for the awkward girl next door.
God, she was a freaking idiot. He really did want her here for her business degree. To help him navigate this new world of his. His flirty behavior was probably just part of his rock start schtick.
Uggh. She’d fallen for it.
Jewel jerked off her jeans and t-shirt and dug through her bag for something to sleep in. Rage better be planning to pay her. She couldn’t give up a job in London for nothing.
He wasn’t that damn hot.
***
Jewel woke up the next morning not feeling any better about her decision to come to California. She should be in London, waiting on that job. She wondered when the girlfriend was going to show, and how bitchy she might be about Jewel hanging around.