Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(76)



One of his shoulders hitched. “It’s for you.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Pam said if you came on tour with us you can tag along with her some of the time. It’d be like an apprenticeship.”

Excitement at the possibilities boggled my mind. “Really?”

“Yeah.” With another of his patented pained sighs, Jimmy handed the camera to Mal. Next, he grabbed me beneath the arms and gently pulled me to my feet. “Look, I need you to stop being pissed at me.”

“So apologize. That’s what you do when you hurt someone’s feelings, Jimmy. You apologize.”

“I just did.”

“No, you just tried to buy me. It’s quite different. Saying sorry and meaning it would be an apology,” I said. “This is a bribe.”

“This gets the job done faster.”

My hands fidgeted at my sides. “I can’t accept it. I can’t allow myself to be bought by you.”

“But you want the camera?”

“Of course I want the camera,” I said. “But that’s beside the point.”

“No, Lena. It’s exactly the point.”

Hushed whispers surrounded us because of course we’d drawn a crowd. These people, being so overly involved in each other’s lives couldn’t be healthy. I also knew we were being watched on account of the way Jimmy’s body tensed up. Beneath the long-sleeved black Henley, his shoulders seemed to thicken.

“Trust me. Nothing about this is easy for me.” His gaze darted to either side of me. The hard line of his jaw shifted at what he saw. “Everyone’s watching and I’m doing this anyway.”

Ev rose to her feet. “Okay, everyone. Be elsewhere, give them a moment.”

“I’m the drummer for Stage Dive.” Mal set the crazily expensive camera on the seat beside him. “You can’t order me around, child bride.”

“It’s so cute that you think that’s still funny, calling me child bride.” From her back jean pocket, Ev pulled out her cell. “Am I calling Anne to tattle on you for refusing to give Jimmy and Lena some privacy or not?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Her finger moved across the screen. “Oh, I think I would.”

David and Ben chuckled in their manly way, but did as told and went back into the recording studio. They clearly weren’t messing with the girl.

A second later, Mal followed. “I do not like you women all being friends. This is not okay.”

“And you should tell your girlfriend all about it when you see her tonight. I’d love to know what she says.” With a final wave, Ev followed him back inside the mixing room or whatever it was called.

It didn’t matter.

Jimmy and I stood almost toe to toe, watching each other warily.

“I bought it for you,” he said. “You don’t accept it I’m throwing it out. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Yeah. So sue me.”

I crossed my arms. “Say you’re sorry.”

He groaned. “Lena.”

“You had sex with me and then you were horrible and you hurt my feelings. That’s no small thing. It’s actually, in the scheme of things, pretty damn big.” My fingers tightened around his strong wrist. “And two orgasms beforehand doesn’t make up for it. Apologize and mean it.”

“It just … wasn’t what I expected.”

“The sex?”

“Yes,” he said.

“What did you expect?”

“I dunno.” His forehead went all crinkly. “Something less good.”

“It was only good? I thought it was great.”

He rubbed at his face with his hand. “Fuck. Fine, yeah, it was great. Your * feels perfect and I can’t think about anything else, all right?”

I had to smile. “Well, at least you’re enamored of one part of me.”

“That mean you forgive me?”

“No, not even close.”

“Damn it, Lena.” His arms went around me, pulling me in tight against him. My face was all mashed up against his chest. His hard, unyielding chest on account of the fact I’m reasonably certain he’d stopped breathing somewhere during this process. Thick steely arms froze into position around me.

“Jimmy, are you actually hugging me?”

A grunt.

“Okay, you’re doing very well.” I set my chin on his chest and looked up at him. “I’m proud of you.”

“You’ll stop ignoring me now, and we can go back to being … us?”

“Yes.”

The air rushed out of him. “Good. That’s good.”

I wrapped my arms around him as tight as I could. He was my Romeo in black jeans and this story had just as much a chance of dying as tragic a death as the original. And still, all of the love I had for him in my heart spilled over, filling every part of me with those familiar warm fuzzy feelings. I’d been ‘in love’ before, sure. The difference here was, I loved him, all of him, and there’d be no easy getting over it this time. Every part of me wanted him, I yearned for him on the cellular level. There could be no escaping emotions of this magnitude. His good and bad, dark and light, his nice parts and his nasty.

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