Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(78)

“Yeah, okay.” He turned his face away, trying to repress a smile. “Now you’re enjoying this a little too much now.”

“Impossible.”

“And I know about the flowers you sent to Liv from me.”

“You do?” My ecstatic fell back a few notches to something more subdued.

“She called, sounded pretty damn happy about them. How much did you spend exactly?”

I forced out some laughter. “You said money wasn’t a big deal, you’ve got lots more.”

He gripped my shoulders. The harsh line of his mouth suggested much crankiness in the immediate future.

“Hey, I did a nice thing for another human being to help her feel good about herself. I just happened to do it with your money. But Jimmy, you were not nice to her when she left, and I felt … you know, you invited her up here and then …”

He just looked at me.

“Can we go back to the part where I’m in the right and you’re in the wrong? Personally, that was more fun for me.”

Footsteps sounded, coming down the stairs behind me.

Company would save me, hooray!

But Jimmy didn’t seem to care if there was an audience to his throttling of me or not. Instead, he wrapped his hand around my ponytail, tugging gently until I tipped my head back.

“I don’t care about the flowers,” he said, leaning in and pressing his cheek against my forehead. Damn that felt good, I had no idea foreheads were so receptive to sensation. My body went weak, awash with good vibrations. It was basically like having one big happy spot smack bam on my face, mildly embarrassing but ever so rewarding. Imagine if he’d actually kissed me there, I’d probably have come.

“It was a nice idea,” he said. “You did the right thing. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t care about the chairs either in case you’re wondering.”

I smiled and held perfectly still as he stroked his knuckles over my cheek. It was so nice being touched by him again, getting to be this close.

His gaze rose, going straight over my head to whoever stood beyond. “Hey, Dean.”

“Jim,” Dean answered, voice curt.

I stopped. The moment he’d touched me I’d entirely forgotten anyone was there, such was his power. And there he’d been, using me to make a point, showing Dean he’d won or some other such manly bullshit.

“Lena,” Dean said.

With both hands, I pressed against Jimmy’s stomach, forcing him back. “Hi, Dean.”

His face was shuttered, his expression closed. “What happened to your foot?”

“She tried to kick my door down,” said Jimmy, bless his helpful little heart. I’m sure there wasn’t a trace of smugness to his voice at all, that would just be my imagination.

Dean wandered toward the studio. “Better get to work.”

The door quietly closed.

“What was that?” I asked, voice deceptively calm.

“What?” he asked, shoulders already rising to protest his innocence.

“You did that on purpose just to get to Dean.”

“Hang on, you do or you don’t want me touching you?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t tell him I couldn’t see him anymore?”

He rolled his eyes, giving me his bored look. “I was just messing with him.”

“No, you were being a jealous dickhead.” I advised him as calmly as possible. “And it was insulting to me and assholish to Dean. The guy’s worked with you for years. He deserves better.”

He caught my hand. “You mad at me again?”

“Oh, you picked up on that did you?”

“Lena, c’mon.”

I tugged my hand from his grip. “Fix it.”

“What? How?”

“I’ll give you a hint. Not by buying anything. You figure it out.”

# # #

My private email account had suddenly been bombarded by all sorts of messages. Mostly consisting of “oh hey, you know someone famous. Wanna hang out some time?” type sentiments. I guess people were easy come easy go on the twenty-something social scene. Most of my friends didn’t appear to have greatly noted my absence when I bolted from home following my sister and my ex’s engagement announcement. This renewed sudden interest on account of my being associated with a Ferris brother, I could do without.

“Hey.”

I looked up from the laptop to find David Ferris hovering in the office doorway. Not someone I’d expect to come calling.

“Hi, David.”

“Can we talk for a sec?” he asked, face serious.

“Sure.”

He took two steps in, scanned the room. There was just the desk and a couple of chairs, some shelves holding various music awards and such like. It was probably the simplest room in all of the house, the most utilitarian. He’d probably never even been in it before.

“Jim’s busy in the booth, but we’ll be finishing up soon,” he said, lips drawn into an awkward sort of smile.

“Right. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I wanted to talk to you about him.”

My guard rose a little higher. Again with the all of them being over involved in each other’s lives. I kept my mouth shut.