Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)(38)

“You mean are you sure you’ll be okay with Jake?” AJ questioned with a grin.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Rhys chuckled as he stepped out of the bathroom. “It’ll be fine, Abby. He’ll be out for hours. And I wager when he wakes up, he’ll be too hung-over to try anything. Your virtue is safe.”

I huffed when he winked at me. “Fine. Go have fun. I’ll just be here baby-sitting the drunken, horny douchebag!”

The guys roared with laughter as they clambered off the bus and headed into the waiting SUV. “Men,” I mumbled as I headed for my suitcase and a clean change of clothes. When I got into the bathroom, I was quick to lock the door. I didn’t want to take any chances of Jake barreling in on me.

Under the scorching stream of water, my mind floated back to what Jake had said before he passed out. I couldn’t help the embarrassing flush creeping over my body at what he’d mentioned about us having sex. At the same time, an ache burned its way through me at the thought of what he had suggested, and for the first time, I felt true desire and longing for a guy. It was like nothing I had experienced with anyone else I had liked or dated. And even though I wasn’t in love with Jake, I wanted him. Bad.

“WHAT?! Have you lost your mind!” I shouted to the shower walls as I raked my fingernails through my hair. I then wildly shook my head back and forth. What was happening to me? No, no, no. I couldn’t think about Jake that way. He was a manwhore who only used women. He could never, ever love me or give me what I wanted in life…could he?

But my mind then whirled to Frank’s earlier conversation as well as what Jake had admitted after all the naughty stuff. He wanted a girl like me to really like him. It wasn’t the first time he had made that statement. He’d made that claim to me after I’d comforted him. Deep down, could Jake want a relationship and more with a girl…with me?

“Ugh!” I grunted as I finished rinsing my hair. I had claimed I wanted to gain some kind of experience of the whole bet situation, and unfortunately, I was getting more than I had bargained for. I’d been on the bus almost thirty-six hours, and my life had already been turned completely upside down.

As I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, I shivered at the thought of what the rest of the week might hold. Trying to tune out the wild and crazy thoughts flitting through my mind, I worked on drying my hair. I doused myself in lotion to make sure there wasn’t the possibility of any remaining puke smell.

Since I had yet to make it the store and my yoga pants and one t-shirt were puke stained, I slipped on a cami and a pair of jersey shorts. After I unlocked the door, I pressed my ear to the frame, listening for any sounds of Jake stirring. I rolled my eyes when I realized how stupid I probably looked. I don’t know what I was so paranoid about. It wasn’t like Jake would ever try anything. I guess I was more afraid of not wanting to stop him, rather than not being able to.

With a deep breath, I exited the bathroom. Jake was nowhere in sight, and I could only imagine he was still dead to the world in the bedroom. Bringing my hands to my hips, I pondered what to do with my evening. Studying and not getting behind while out on tour was high on my list of priorities, so I dug my books out of my bag. But before I sat down, I surveyed the inside of the bus and wrinkled my nose. These boys were just as bad as my brothers when it came to being slobs. Pulling my hair back in a ponytail, I surmised that there was no way I could concentrate on studying surrounded by all the filth.

Bending down, I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves, cleaner, and sponges out from under the sink. As I started wiping down the counters, I realized it was entirely too quiet. I ambled over to the stereo system and started going through AJ’s CD collection. When I got to Michael Jackson’s Greatest Hits, I stopped. “Oh yeah, a little old school MJ will do just fine.”

The opening 80’s synthesized melody of Beat It blared out of the speakers. Nodding my head, I started singing along, using my sponge as a make-shift microphone. As I cleaned up the table and chairs, I started shimmying and shaking my ass around the bus. There was nothing like cleaning to good music, and you could say I was a bit Michael Jackson obsessed.

I was halfway through playing air guitar on Eddie Van Halen’s solo when a hand on my shoulder caused me to shriek. I spun around, dropping the sponge and cleaner. It clattered noisily onto the floor.

Jake gave me an epic smirk. “Nice moves, Angel, but could you turn that down?”

My cheeks felt enflamed. “Oh, yeah, so sorry,” I muttered, hurrying over to flick off the stereo. As I tried stilling my erratic breath, silence echoed through the bus as Jake and I stood staring at each other. “Um, how are you feeling?”

He winced as he rubbed his head. “What do you think? I woke up in Hell with Michael Jackson pounding in my ears.”

When I snickered, he added, “Not to mention, I staggered out here to scream at the guys only to see you in that outfit,” he motioned to my cami and shorts, “shaking your ass.” He cocked his brows. “Totally not within the parameters of our bet, Angel.”

Sweeping a hand to my hip, I spat, “Sorry, but I have to have music on while I’m cleaning, and as for the clothes, well, you puked all over my least allegedly provocative outfit.”

“Oh Christ,” he muttered. It was like the memory of everything that had happened came crashing down on Jake, and he shuddered, falling back against the counter. His weary eyes met mine. He ran his hands over his face and furrowed his eyebrows at the feeling of the crusty, puke stains. “I was so f**ked up earlier.”