Wicked Serenade: a Lost in Oblivion Collection

by Quinn, Cari

  Jazz leaned back against her headboard, looping her arm ever so casually over the top of her knee. “It is pretty sweet.”

  “Sweet? That pool out back is gigantic. I even saw a frigging Benz in the garage. Your family has serious moolah.”

  Jazz started to explain that the Duffys were her foster family, not her real one, but she pressed her lips together and nodded. What did it hurt to pretend for a couple of minutes? She wanted them to be her family more than anything. This was the closest she’d had to a real home since she was little, back when things had been semi-okay with her mom and grandma. Her mom had worked long hours, but she’d always come back eventually and Nana had been so much fun.

  After her mom hooked up with Jacob and gave birth to Molly, things started to change. By the time Nana died, they were moving from house to house. It wasn’t long before her mom started coming home from nights out with Jacob with a black eye. When her mom had begun talking about moving them in with her boyfriend, Jazz had rebelled hardcore. She knew they shouldn’t live with a guy who was abusive, but her mom had refused to listen.

  Then she’d thrown up her hands and Jazz had ended up in foster care.

  Stacey giggled. “I mean, if you gotta be a foster kid, it’s better to land with a rich family, right?”

  Jazz smothered her sigh. No point in pretending after all. She should’ve known that word had traveled all the way through school. “I don’t really care about the rich part.” She stroked her silky pillowcase. “The Duffys are incredible. They’ve made me feel so welcome.” Except Brent.

  “You’ve gotta tell me what it’s like.” Stacey rolled on her stomach and propped her chin on her fists.

  Jazz smiled, glad for the distraction from her thoughts about her mom and Mol. She tried not to dwell on them, but sometimes she couldn’t help it. Where were they now? Did they ever think of her?

  “Jazz?”

  “Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”

  “You have to tell me what it’s like to live with Gray. He’s so…gah.” Stacey grinned and grabbed her chest.

  Jazz’s smile faltered. She should’ve known this was coming. Only she would be dumb enough to think she’d actually made a genuine friend when she hadn’t managed to make any in three months. “He’s pretty awesome,” she said, dropping her arm to her side.

  Screw it. Why should she hide herself when people weren’t paying attention to her anyway? She was just the girl who got to live with Gray the hottie.

  “I went to see Krystal Sword once and he made out with a girl right on stage. Touched her boob and everything. I got so hot I did it with my boyfriend Craig the first time that night.”

  Jazz’s eyes widened. “You’re not a virgin?”

  “Nope, haven’t been for months. Are you?”

  Jazz nodded. Despite what her mom and her caseworker had believed, she’d stayed out past curfew to go to clubs and hear live music most of the time, not run wild with boys. Guys had been involved a couple of times, and she’d definitely made it past second base and halfway to third, but no one had gone near what her mom used to call her “inner sanctum” yet. “Yeah.”

  “You should do it with Gray.”

  “What?” Jazz clapped her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter from spilling out. “He’s got…girlfriends.”

  She couldn’t say he had one in particular, but even so, the idea was ludicrous. In spite of that weirdness with Brent at Thanksgiving a few weeks ago, she’d never believe for a second that Gray had feelings for her beyond friendship. He saw himself as her older brother, she was almost sure.

  Thank God he never read her other notebook. The sexy one, where she did things with Gray in her songs that she’d never ever tell anyone.

  “So?” Stacey nudged her arm. “You could be one of them too. Nothing wrong with hooking up with a guy. Then another guy. And another one.”

  “Didn’t you just say you had a boyfriend?”

  “Had. Now I’m checking out my options.” Stacey did a hip flex that made Jazz giggle again. “Hey, my friend Beth is having a party next Friday night. I’m positive Gray’s going. You should come too.”

  “What about Toby?”

  “He’ll be there too. Throw out a couple arrows. See which one hits.” Stacey grinned and grabbed her arm. “Come on, say you’ll come. It’ll be so much fun.”

  “Okay, sure. But my curfew’s at ten. I gotta be home before then.”

  “Absolutely,” Stacey said before bouncing up into a sitting position. “Let’s go raid your closet and find you something hot to wear.”

  Jazz took a deep breath. She didn’t have to do anything crazy. It was just a party. Maybe she’d make some new friends, dance a lot, drink a little. But she wasn’t having sex with anyone.

  Especially not Gray.

  Fourteen

  Now

  Jazz faced her closet, hands on hips. “Fuck.”

  How was she supposed to fit that many days’ worth of clothes into one suitcase? Essentials only. Pfft. They were going to a spa. That required fabulous outfits to go with her hair and makeup makeovers. Plus, she needed her gear. She couldn’t be ready for serious work without her stuff. This was technically a writing/bonding session, so she wouldn’t need her regular kit. She had a portable drum kit that she could use in a pinch, as well as her keyboard, but she’d have to bring both guitars since she couldn’t decide between Gray’s old Stratocaster or her newer Fender. She couldn’t write music without a guitar in her lap. Probably a holdover from her days spent in the Duffys’ basement with Gray.

  Everything circled back to him eventually.

  Before she could check the impulse, she called the one person who could understand her dilemma. The minute she heard Harper’s voice, she swore. “Oh fuck. I forgot you had to get Deak ready to go. Sorry, I’ll catch you later.”

  “Hold it,” Harper commanded. “We can talk for a minute. He’s a grown man. He can get himself ready for his trip. It’s not like he’s going to war.” She gave an uncertain little laugh. “It’s only a week.”

  “Ten days.”

  “Hello, I’m trying to be chill. Don’t ruin it.”

  Laughing, Jazz tugged her hot pink mini dress off the hanger and tossed it in the direction of her bed. “Shutting up now. Except I can’t, because I need your advice. Should I bring—”

  “About freaking time. I’ve been waiting for you to go after Gray once and for all.”

  “My navy halter—wait, what?”

  “You heard me. If you’re asking me if you should go for it with Gray, the answer is hell yes. When is going to be a better time than right now?”

  Jazz sank onto her bed. “Any time would be better, considering we’ve been banned from going near each other.”

  “Say what?”

  Jazz ran through Lila’s diatribe at the meeting and sighed. “I’d decided to do it finally last night, but he didn’t show up. Then we kissed and he ran off to bang some girl, except he didn’t, I don’t think, and oh God, pass the Excedrin. It’s so much frigging drama. I hate drama.” She flung herself backward on the bed and stared at the glow-in-the-dark star decals she’d affixed to her ceiling. “Maybe this thing with Lila is the best thing that could happen. Maybe I’m not supposed to throw myself at him.”

  Harper snorted. “Throw? I think if you even swayed in his general direction, he’d snap you up in a hot minute.”

  “Did Deak tell you about that stupid gossip rag article? They had a picture of Nick’s hand on my ass. We didn’t even do anything. Yeah, he smacked me, but we just practiced and had a bit too much to drink.”

  She must still be suffering from the aftereffects since she’d developed a bitch of a headache. Having to collect Gray from the cab and Lila’s meeting hadn’t helped.

  “Oh yeah, ouch. I saw the stuff online. If you hadn’t called, I would’ve texted the minute big guy left. Love triangle, huh?” Harper whistled. “That’s inaccurate.”

  “No kidding. Lamest love triangle
ever. I haven’t had sex with Nick in more than six months, and I haven’t had sex with Gray since ever. My vagina gets less action than any of the guys’ hands and I get all the shit.”

  “Sorry to say, but I think that’s part of being the only girl in a group of guys. You’ll always get slut-shamed while they get exalted for doing much worse stuff. It sucks.”

  “Meh.” Jazz threw her arm over her eyes. “I’m tired, Harp. I think I’m pathologically allergic to angst.” Yet it kept chasing her, like a freaking fungus.

  “You had enough to fill ten lifetimes before you joined Oblivion.”

  “Yeah. Maybe I should just channel my frustration into writing some dirty songs. Think the guys would be cool with calling the new album, ‘I’m horny’?”

  Harper snorted. “Simon would be, no doubt.”

  “Lila made it pretty clear that I’m enemy number one to all the guys’ penises in the group. Excluding your guy’s penis, of course. And Simon’s, because it belongs to about five thousand other women.”

  “Ugh. And seriously? You’re adults. You should be able to do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t affect the band.”

  “That’s the problem. It is. Plus I think Lila’s afraid someone else is going to settle down like Deacon did and screw the single guy dynamics with the fans.” Jazz grimaced and sat up. “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to bring Deak into it.”

  “He is into it, and it’s a valid point. But people fall in love and get married. What’re you going to do? Put people in chastity belts until Oblivion’s gone platinum a few times?”

  “Lila would love to, I think. Simon’s harmless. He’ll screw his way across the country and never settle down.”

  “Like Nick would?”

  “Yeah, that would be a no. But Gray and me, we’re the wild cards.”

  “You think she can smell your baby fever on you?” Harper teased.

  “Ugh, probably. I can’t help it.” Jazz grabbed a pillow and dragged it to her stomach. “You’re already adorably cute and you’re not even showing yet.”

  “Aww, thanks. I don’t think it’ll be too long before I am, though. My jeans are already getting snug.” Harper sounded so content that Jazz would’ve hated her if she hadn’t loved her so much. “But we’re talking about you. You’re just going to let Lila tell you what to do?”

  “What choice do I have? I think I need to lie low with her for a bit. Hopefully the gossip rags will forget us if we stay separate for the length of band camp. The paparazzi has a short attention span, right?”

  “They do, but since I’m pretty sure they were fed by trolls closer to your inner circle—aka probably one of Simon’s screwees—I bet they’ll keep eating longer.”

  Jazz groaned. “C’mon, throw me a bone.”

  “Okay, here you go. You can’t keep dancing around Gray forever. If I were you, I’d use this vacation from Lila’s clutches to my advantage. Call it an orgasm recovery plan.”

  Jazz rolled on her belly, taking the pillow with her. “In case Deak forgot to mention it, I’m exiled with him and the great manwhore at a spa. Nowhere near the secret cabin where Gray and Nick are going.”

  “So find out where they’re headed, and in the grand tradition of all cabin exiles, sneak in. Hopefully wearing something skimpy enough that all of Gray’s brain cells disintegrate upon sight.”

  “Harp, he kissed me and left with some chick last night. But he claimed he didn’t sleep with her.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I want to.”

  “Then go with your gut. And follow your heart.”

  “My heart leads me to Gray.” Jazz sighed. “Always.”

  “Exactly. Now let your body follow suit.”

  Jazz sat up again and heaved the pillow aside. She’d collapsed on her dress, probably wrinkling it all to hell, but who could worry about that at a time like this? “You’re serious. You really think I should do this.”

  “I do. Absolutely. You have to give it a try. You’ve wondered all these years. If you don’t go for it, balls to the wall, you’ll always wonder what if. Fifteen years from now when Oblivion’s broken up and you’re married with a pair of adorable babies, you’ll log onto Facebook and start a madcap instant messaging affair with him, thereby homewrecking both of your families. This is much more expeditious. Trust me.”

  “I don’t want any adorable babies if they aren’t his.” Jazz frowned and smoothed her hand over her minidress. “I definitely don’t want to be married.”

  “Proving my point. Pack some hot clothes, head off to the spa and tonight, attack.”

  When Harper started humming the Jaws soundtrack, Jazz laughed. “There’s one little problem. I won’t have transportation for this little sneak attack plan of yours.”

  “You can use the catering truck. It’ll be at your service.”

  “Won’t you need it?”

  “Between the hours of midnight and seven a.m.? Nope. I don’t have a job until eight a.m. tomorrow. So get there late and leave early.” Harper made a purring noise. “And make the most of all the hours in between.”

  “Aw, damn, you’ve sold me.” Jazz grinned and jogged over to her closet. “Now help me figure out what to pack.”

  Twenty minutes later, she had a head full of sex advice, a packed suitcase, several cases of instruments and her notebook under her arm. Operation Sex-up-Gray achievement unlocked.

  On her way out of her bedroom she stopped by her guinea pig Ratt’s cage and stuck her finger through the bars. “Hey there, munchkin. Auntie Harp is going to make sure you and your sister George have plenty to eat and drink while we’re away. So don’t go riding that wheel of yours all night long and getting your cage dirty til I get back. No wild parties, you hear me?” She pressed a kiss to her finger and placed it on Ratt’s furry head. “Be good for mama.”

  Hearing herself, she sighed. Yeah, she really did have baby fever if she was actually mothering a damn guinea pig. But along with being cute, he was well-behaved. George, Simon’s kitten, was much more of a miscreant.

  She headed down the hall and knocked on Gray’s bedroom door. Hopefully his and Nick’s car hadn’t been early. She’d been so busy squirreling away necessary items for her trip—naughty lingerie, check and condoms, check—that Nick and Gray could’ve split without her knowing. Normally Gray would’ve stopped by to say goodbye, but maybe he was taking Lila’s warning seriously.

  More seriously than she was anyway.

  On her second knock, he opened the door and gave her a careless grin that didn’t diminish the strain around his eyes. His silver eyebrow ring gleamed, adding a little edge to his casual outfit of jeans, a T-shirt and a vest. While the jeans were snug, the T-shirt seemed a little baggy, but he’d always had energy to burn and a crazy fast metabolism. She gained weight just looking at food and he could eat double cheeseburgers at every meal and not gain an ounce.

  “Hey.” He leaned on the doorjamb. “You defying a direct order?”

  The amusement in his voice helped ease some of her nerves. She’d been planning for this day for a long time. Now that it was actually here, she couldn’t stop fussing with the hem of her shirt and bouncing around on her Keds. She wasn’t a raving beauty but normally she was fine with her appearance. Sure, her eyes weren’t quite even and her nose was a bit too tiny and she was ridiculously short. She’d gotten used to all of those things. Yet all of a sudden she couldn’t stop analyzing her boobs or how her butt looked in her jeans.

  Not that it really mattered. He’d been in her sphere for close to a decade. If he didn’t find the goods up to snuff, there wasn’t much she could do about it. She’d just have to work what her mama gave her and hope for the best.

  “You okay, J?”

  This zoning out problem she was developing wasn’t going to up her hotness quotient. “Sure. I’m fine. Uh, yeah, about the direct order.” She gave him a bright smile and waved her notebook. “If I keep this in my hand at all times, that makes this within the
boundaries of Oblivion biz, right?”

  He scraped his hand over the back of his head. “Sure. So, ah, you’re off to the spa soon, right?”

  “Yes.” She reached up to toy with the ends of her hair. “I’m thinking of dyeing it again.”

  His grin bordered on indulgent. “No kidding? That happens so rarely with you.”

  “No, I mean something shocking. Like…platinum blonde.” She tipped her head to the side. “What do you think of that?”

  He jerked a shoulder. “It’s a color.”

  She frowned at his back as he disappeared into his bedroom. Really? That was his idea of a response?

  “I might pierce my nipples and get a nose ring too,” she called, stepping back at his surprise reappearance in the doorway.

  “You’ve pierced enough of yourself, don’t you think?” He moved into the hallway, forcing her backward.

  Hmm. Which piercing was he thinking of? “You mean my ear piercings?” she asked coyly, flipping back her hair. He’d definitely gotten to know her clit piercing too. Briefly. So freaking briefly.

  He hoisted his duffel higher and clutched his guitar in one hand, pulling the door shut with the other. “Yeah.”

  Wow. Seriously? She was trying to act flirty and even directing his attention toward sexual areas—nipples, clits, come on—and nada. “I’m pierced other places too.”

  “Uh-huh. So did you need something? I think we’re supposed to head downstairs soon.”

  She grabbed his arm before he could start down the stairs. “I wanted to know if you had the address for the cabin yet,” she said in a low voice, keeping an eye on the hallway. The last thing she needed was for someone to overhear her setting up an illicit tryst.

  “No. We won’t know until we get there, and that’s if they even tell us where we are. Much mystery afoot.” He flashed her a distracted smile and adjusted his grip on his guitar.

  “When you find out the address, text me.”

  “Why?”

  Jazz sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t be soundly rejected. “So I can, um, pay you a visit.” She tossed her hair. “You know. At night.”