Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(24)

A couple of gold and brown leaves blew past me into the house.

Jimmy turned to come back and his brother grabbed his arm, pulling him in for a brief back-thumping hug.

Yes. Thank you, baby Jesus.

Finally, Jimmy ran back to the house, soaked to the ever-loving bone.

“Careful, don’t slip with your wet feet.” I offered him his jacket but he shook his head and stripped off his shirt. Water ran off his wet hair, down his face and neck. “I’ll get a towel.”

“Don’t bother. I’m f*cking freezing.” He made for the bathroom and walked straight into the shower, turning on the hot water.

“Everything’s okay with you two now?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He pushed down his sweat pants, baring his black snug-fitting boxer briefs with quite the parcel up front. Holy shit, his thighs, his washboard chest, his everything. What with all of the sudden sex fantasies filling my head, I was surprised there’s any room left in the building. My body went into shock, pulse rocketing. I could warm him. For certain, my face and other pertinent body parts felt on fire. Good god, I bet his skin tasted divine.

Jimmy raised a brow. “Lena?”

I blinked.

“What, you waiting to tell me you were right again?”

“Sure?”

“Consider it done.” Jimmy stood, hands on hips, watching me. The look in his eyes, I couldn’t decipher it. But his lips parted and it seemed he was almost on the verge of asking me something. Then changed his mind. “C’mon, what are you doing in here? Unless you’re offering to scrub my back, you need to get out.”

My eyes went wide, as wide could be. “What? Are you serious?”

Gently, he grabbed me by the upper arm and marched me out of the bathroom. “Get out, Lena.”

“I was just trying to talk to you.” I was so not trying to talk to him. But now, we very much needed to discuss his back scrubbing needs and how I, as employee of the month, could meet them.

“Talk to me later.”

“But—”

And he slammed the door in my face.

Nice.

Jerk.

Disappointment was a nasty big beast and it was sitting right on my heart. I wrapped my arms around myself, guarding against the chill. It seemed that standing in the doorway, I’d gotten a bit damp myself from the mist and the encroaching rain. Mostly, however, it was about being thrown out of heaven, a.k.a., the ground-floor bathroom. How was that for gratitude? I gave the door the finger.

“You did good,” he hollered from within.

I dropped my arm to my side. “Thanks.”

“Dave and me are all fine again.”

“Great,” I shouted back.

“Yeah, you told me so.”

I smiled. “I’m glad. Are you going to stop smoking?”

Muttered swearing. “Yeah, okay. And stop hanging around the door when I’m showering. That’s creepy.”

I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like I could see anything through the keyhole.

Let’s pretend I didn’t try.





# # #


Two-thirty in the morning was kind of a bitch as times went. It fell into the in-between, nowhere land. Too late to get a really good night’s sleep, but much too early to start the day.

I rolled over onto my back and stared at the ceiling. It remained every bit as entertaining and enlightening as it had for the last four hours. Over on my bedside table, my water glass was empty. This made sense since my bladder felt demandingly full. All of me was awkward, uncomfortable. I bet Jimmy paid top dollar for this mattress, Kings and queens probably slept on the same. And yet, it still did me no good.

With a groan I threw back the covers and dragged my sorry ass into the bathroom. I took care of business and washed my hands. Since I was already up and grumpy, I might as well go in search of chocolate.

Don’t question the logic. It made sense to my sleep-deprived mind and that’s all that mattered.

I trudged down the stairs. A flickering light came from within the living room, shadows playing across the wall opposite. I’d abandoned Jimmy to a documentary on Phil Spector hours and hours ago. Mr. Spector might have been a musical genius but considering where he wound up, it was all a bit too macabre for my tastes. I’d bid the rock star goodnight.

Tigers were mutely roaring and roaming the golden savannah on the wide screen. Jimmy lay passed out on the couch, fast asleep. The lines of his beautiful face were no less determined and harsh in repose. Yet they seemed softer somehow without his piss and vinegar going on. His long dark lashes lay against his cheek and his lips were slightly apart. They looked so soft. A feeling, a sensation worked its way up from deep in my belly, spreading right through me until it tingled in my toes. It was all about him. It was hot and cold, forever and never all at once. It was physical, but it was also more, much more. I wanted to know him, every last little thing about him. And I wanted him to know me. I wanted to be a real part of his life, not just his employee. To be the person he confided even his darkest thoughts in, the person he trusted.

It was insane.

Ever notice how the world seems different in the wee small hours of the morning, when you’ve been awake too long? Surreal somehow and yet clearer, quieter so you can hear the whispered truth of things you couldn’t bring yourself to face in the light. My feelings for Jimmy weren’t fading. I was a fool to imagine they would, living in his house and breathing the same air as him. They weren’t leaving anytime soon.