Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(50)

“No, it’s not, don’t lie to me. What’s going on?” he asked, stopping the step below me. It put us at almost exactly the same height.

Fuck he was beautiful, inside and out, and he would never be mine. That information sat sure and safe inside of me, turning me to stone because it was utterly undeniable. But I was still expected to stay here, be with him, and support him, the job I both did and didn’t want with all of my heart.

“I’m being wildly unprofessional again,” I said.

He squinted. “That all?”

It was a throwaway question, but still, I gave it serious thought. Inside me, emotions were storming around, being in an uproar. My lack of professionalism definitely wasn’t all.

“I need a hug,” I said.

“What?”

“I need a hug.” I nodded, warming to the idea. “Yes, that’s what I need. I mean, don’t even get me started on that farce of a date with Ben. But, you know, last night with Reece was pretty damn shitty.”

His mouth opened but I kept right on.

“You’re my closest friend, right now, Jimmy. With that position does come certain responsibilities.”

Eyes wide open, he gave the ceiling a long pained questioning look. “Fuck’s sake. Is it not enough that I make sure your favorite chocolate cream pie is in the fridge at this time of the month? Do I really have to put up with this too?”

“Yes. Apparently you do.” It probably should have surprised me, but it didn’t. We had been living together for several months now and for someone I’d once considered self-involved, Jimmy noticed the strangest things. My period having arrived mid-morning certainly explained my crap mood in the last twenty-four hours. “Though I do appreciate the pie.”

“Great. I don’t hug,” he said.

“Everyone hugs.”

“Not me, touching isn’t my thing.” He crossed and uncrossed his arms. “Unless f*cking is involved and we’re not doing that.”

He was trying to scandalize me. I knew that about him by now. I wonder how scandalized he’d be if I offered. Instead, I said, “You’ve touched me no less than eighteen times in the past month. You’re more of a toucher than you know.”

His eyes widened, then narrowed. “You just pulled that figure out of your ass, didn’t you?”

“You count drinks, I count touches.”

“Hmm. I’m not doing it.”

“What are you, a man or a mouse?” I asked, my voice challenging.

“Your boss.”

Good answer. Still, in Coeur d’Alene, when he’d wanted comfort, he’d just grabbed hold of me. There’d been no debating, no negotiating. He’d sure as hell never asked what I wanted, he’d just taken what he needed. And what I needed right now was him, every last little molecule inside me knew it.

Fuck it. I launched myself at him.

Jimmy caught me with an “oomph,” his hands grappling with my waist. My arms wrapped tight around his neck. I might have accidentally broken my nose on his collarbone but no matter. He was now obliged to console me, physically. The ache in the bridge of my nose could be ignored. The man stood petrified, I could almost smell his fear. But this, being so close to him, was nirvana.

Sheer, unadulterated bliss.

His breath hitched, but then his chest moved fast against me, ribs rising and falling. I waited for him to shrug me off, or, more likely, pry me off with a crowbar. Gradually, rock hard muscles eased against me. A tentative hand patted me on the back, out of rhythm. Apparently, years of musicianship and his innate natural talent had been lost due to my hug. Ah, the power, I would never let him go.

The combined sounds of our breathing echoed in the stairwell.

“Lena?”

“Shh, I’m concentrating.” I clung on tighter, just in case he now decided to try and escape.

He smelled crazy good, some nice expensive cologne underlined with the sweat and scent of him. Thank god he’d forgotten about the shirt I’d stolen. The same smell was far fainter on it. Nothing like breathing deep straight from the source. And care of the questing tip of my sore nose, I had struck skin, the base of his neck, even. Wonderful.

“Your nose is cold,” he bitched.

“Quiet. You’re ruining the mood.”

“There is no mood. You’re acting crazy is all.”

Downstairs people were talking, the muted beating of drums, but nothing mattered more than here and now.

“We done yet?” he asked.

“No.”

“One more minute, then that’s it, Lena.”

“Two.”

He exhaled hard. “I better not have to do this every month from now on.”

Another timid pat or two. Then, ever so slowly, his other arm wrapped lightly around me, hand slipping beneath my hair. Fingers stroked back and forth over the back of my neck. We stood there, my breasts mooshed up against his hard chest. He rested his chin on the top of my head and I could feel his breaths faintly against my scalp, stirring my hair. Despite the differences in height, we fit together just right. His other hand started firmly smoothing up and down my spine, pressing me into him. Each time it went a bit further, fingers glancing over the small of my back and the beginning of the curve of my ass. My breathing faltered each time his hand went down, dying to know how far he’d go, wishing he’d do more.