Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(44)

“This got mixed in with my stuff.” He threw the glossy ivory invite onto my bathroom counter. Without my glasses on, he was just a sexy smudge in the mirror. “You dressed up this time.”

He bent over, apparently checking out my legs or the knee-length hem of my skirt. Whatever. I refused to be lead astray by his false attentions. He wasn’t interested in me, not in any way that counted toward my vagina or my heart getting what they wanted.

“Nice,” he said. “Red looks good on you.”

“Thanks. Now get out.”

“Put these on. You need to see something.”

My glasses came at me. Carefully, he positioned them on my nose. I had my usual reaction to seeing him, having him standing so close. A certain lightness in my head, fluttery feelings in my chest and loins, that sort of thing. I wasn’t proud, but the warmth and pull of his body was undeniable to my girl parts. Then, from behind his back he produced a bouquet of flowers, arranged in a glass vase.

Oh my god.

“You bought me dahlias?” Color me stunned. My heart gave a hopeful overexcited throb. “They’re beautiful.”

He snorted. “Course I didn’t buy you f*cking flowers. Read the card.”

“‘Sorry about taking off. Let’s just be friends. Ben.’” I laughed at me, him, and the universe. It seemed the best possible response. “You told him to send me these, didn’t you?”

“Hmm,” he uttered cryptically. Then he placed them on the counter while I put the final fix on my attempt at putting my hair in a bun. He stood there and stared which was not helpful for the pre-date jitters. I did my best to ignore him. Hard given the way he watched me, his gaze doing a slow circuit of my body, no curve left unnoticed. The man was the king of mixed messages. I didn’t know whether to kick him or jump him, this was ridiculous. All of a sudden, balancing in my high heels seemed a test of great dexterity and conviction. The man made me quiver.

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring.”

He met my eyes, blinked. “How much time you going to need off for the wedding?”

“None,” I said, searching his face for some sign, some acknowledgement of what he’d been doing. But he just gave me the scrunched-up face of disapproval, brows tight and eyes narrowed.

No, come on. He had to know he’d been looking me over like a sex thing. I mean, like I was a person he wanted to have sex with.

Yes.

God damn it, my heart and hormones. Both were being stressed right the f*ck out.

“I’m not going,” I said, concentrating on re-arranging the clutter on the counter. If I could just have a moment to pull my shit together I’d be fine.

“Why not?”

“Next few months before the tour are going to be out. I’m too busy. You can’t possibly do without me here.”

“Bullshit. I can spare you for a few days.”

“Ah, but they don’t know that. Move, please.” I tapped him on the nose with the tip of my finger.

He stepped back, frowning. “So you got family issues? I wondered when you didn’t ask to go home for Thanksgiving. I take it this is about that sibling hate you mentioned when I was having issues with Dave?”

“Indeed it is. But I get on fine with the rest of my family. I call my mom a couple of times a week, chat with my dad too.”

“What’d she do to you?”

“Why so curious?” I picked up my coat and purse, switched off the light. “I thought the goings on of the little people didn’t interest you, oh mighty Mr. Ferris.”

I paused, waiting to see if he’d actually admit to it. But got nothing.

He followed me down the stairs. No suit tonight, instead, he wore black jeans and yet another fitted black T-shirt, hair unstyled, hanging around his face. Hard to say which was more potent, suited Jimmy or relaxed. They were both hot as hell.

“So, what do we know about this Reece character apart from the fact that he’s a friend of Anne’s?” The living room seemed a good place to await his arrival. I dumped my stuff and then myself onto the couch as every muscle from my hips to my toes screamed in agony. Stupid jogging. A long soak in a hot bath would have been the night’s plans if not for the thou-shalt-date-other-people commandment from the rock god on high.

My hopes for the date were subdued, courtesy of the night before. If he stuck around for the main meal I’d call it a win.

“Owns a book shop or something. That’s about it.” Jimmy sat with his usual natural grace. Such was the nature of ballerinas, models, rock stars, and other preternaturally good-looking creatures. Though to be fair, Jimmy had collapsed rather dramatically several times in public back when. Pictures of him out cold on the ground had made the rounds at least once or twice. Guess when he’d gotten dry he’d put all of that behind him.

“Why are you frowning at me?” he groused.

“What were you like when you were using?”

His forehead went from calm to crumpled in an instant. That part of his face was basically a barometer. “Where the f*ck did that come from?”

“I don’t know. I just … I want to know things about you. Is that so wrong?”

The look in his eyes said yes. Hell yes. Also, I was in all likelihood mentally deficient on account of being dropped on my head repeatedly as a child.