Jersey Six(59)

“So he’ll let me go. Game over. Then what?”

“Let you go? No. They’ll come after you, and he’ll risk everything to protect you. Were you not in the kitchen last night?”

She stood, stretching her shoulders while turning her back to him. “Fuck you,” she mumbled.

“No. But if you did fuck me the way you fucked Ian last night … I sure as hell would risk my whole world to keep you.”

“But … what if he knows? What if he’s keeping me close to him so I don’t kill him?”

“That makes no sense.” Chris stood, finishing his glass of water.

“It does. He has a secret too. I see the agony on his face when I share pieces of my past. I …” She shook her head, closing her eyes. “I need to see him crack, just a little. I’m going to tell him about the Russells. And he won’t have to say a word. I’ll see the truth on his face. I need that … I need the truth.”

“Fine, Jers.” Chris stopped in front of her, using his height and a challenging smirk to try to intimidate her. “You do your thing, and I’ll do mine. Let’s see who’s better at avenging death.”



“Good morning.” Max smiled as Jersey rounded the corner to the kitchen.

“Hey. Where’s Coop? I got up really early to exercise. But by the time I went upstairs to shower, he was up and gone. No note or anything.”

“He probably couldn’t find a receipt and pen.” Max shot her a toothy grin. “There.” She nodded to a bag on the island. “There’s a new phone for you in that bag. Welcome to the world of technology, where humans communicate through texting and emojis. And where handwritten notes on the back of receipts are the equivalent of carving stick people on cave walls.”

Jersey poured herself a cup of coffee from the pantry. “Well, Coop got one hell of a blowjob thanks to ancient ways of communication.”

“La la la la la …” Max covered her ears. “Will you ever stop oversharing?”

She emerged from the secret room. “If you’re bothered by our sex acts, then pick a different chair to sit in because the one you’re sitting in is the one I sat in last night when he buried his head between my legs before—”

“Jersey!” Max sprang out of the chair, doing a weird dance like something crawled up her pant leg. “No! Why do you hate me? I’m old enough to be your mother!” She shimmied a bit more before pointing to another chair.

Jersey nodded.

“So where’s Chris?” Max wasted no time changing the subject.

“I don’t know. Probably taking a walk. He likes to walk. I think that’s when memories come back to him. And he needs a phone too so I can communicate with him when I’m gone. Oh … and access to the internet would be great for him as well.”

Max nodded. “That can be arranged. Ian’s with Nick doing therapy this morning. He should be back soon so I can go over his schedule with him. How are you liking L.A.?”

Jersey sat across from Max, blowing the steam from her coffee. “I don’t know. I guess it’s all relative. I’m staying in a fancy house. Eating three meals a day. Showering. So in that way, L.A. is amazing. And maybe if I were on the streets, it still might feel like an improvement just because it doesn’t get as cold here.”

“Well, if your birth certificate shows up, we’ll get things going on your passport.”

“We’ll? Aren’t you leaving too, in three days?”

“Yes. Jeanine, my assistant, will take care of whatever you need.”

Jersey coughed, setting her coffee on the table. “You’re Coop’s assistant, but you have your own assistant?”

Max pulled Jersey’s phone out of the bag and turned it on. “Yes, but she’s part-time. I use her to help me when I can’t be in two places at once, like when they’re touring. Like when Ian’s personal life becomes his priority, but he still has to do his job.”

“You think I’m his personal life?”

Max nodded on a chuckle. “If you saw the messages he’s sent me since the day he met you, I think it’s safe to say he’s made you his whole life.” She shrugged. “And I don’t know why. And that’s nothing against you. I genuinely like you. It was just an odd meet cute.”

“Meet cute?”

“A meet cute is a first encounter that leads to a romantic relationship.”

“Whoa … we don’t have a romantic relationship. It’s sex.”

Max curled her hair behind her ear and reached across the table, resting her hand on Jersey’s hand. The smile Max shared, a mix of amusement and sympathy, made Jersey nervous. “Have you ever been in love?”

Jersey shook her head.

“Have you ever thought about a man in a nonsexual way, for no particular reason other than you just liked how it made you feel to think about him?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.” Her gaze averted to the windows. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

Releasing her hand, Max sat back and grinned. “No? Well … maybe not. But when you overshare with me about the sex, you do it in a very matter-of-fact way. In those moments, I might believe it’s just sex. However, when I mention Ian, when I watch you watching him on stage, or when you ask where he’s at, your cheeks turn pink, you wet your lips, and you can’t even look me in the eye. That’s romance. And you don’t have to admit it, but I know from experience it’s an incredible feeling.”