You'd Be Mine(29)

I grab tongs and start dishing out some fresh fruit into a glass bowl. “Well, good for them.”

Jason squints one eye, regarding me while chewing a mouthful of over-syrupped pancake. He swallows hugely. “Really?”

I narrow my eyes. “Yes, really. Why wouldn’t I be happy for them? Fitz is great.”

“I was more thinking about your whole ‘no rock star hookups, waiting for Mr. Perfect’ stance.”

I roll my eyes and pop a grape in my mouth. “You make me sound like a nun.”

Jason doesn’t correct me.

I throw at grape at him, and it bounces off his forehead. “I’m not a prude. Just because I wouldn’t have sex with you doesn’t mean I have anything against the practice. I just don’t care for the idea of derailing my career over a man.” Which is mostly true. I daydream about derailing my career over a certain man a thousand times a day. Doesn’t mean I would, though.

“How Susan B. Anthony of you,” he says drolly.

“Whatever. Think what you want. Regardless, it’s great Kacey and Fitz have hit it off.”

“Uh-huh.” Jason starts hacking at his stack again, his fork and knife squeaking against his plate and making me cringe. “So does your free-love goodwill extend to the rest of the tour members?”

“Why? Are you about to tell me you’re hooking up behind my back, too?”

He shakes his head. “Believe you me, if I were sexing it up, the entire world would know about it.” He puts down his silverware and levels me with a serious look, making the orange juice whirl in my stomach. “No, I’m talking about our headliner.”

I lower my eyes. “Oh. Right. Well.” I shrug easily. “That goes without saying. Clay probably has a girl in every city on this tour.”

Jason waits for me to raise my eyes again, and after confirming I’m not in pieces, he shoves more food in his face, talking around his breakfast. “I don’t know about that. Maybe? But I did notice his supposed on-and-off-again flame tagged along up the coast.”

Hm. That little tidbit seems more serious, but still. “Jason. I have literally zero designs on Clay. It’s more than fine.” Mostly more than fine, anyway. I mean, I really don’t have any designs on Clay. Daydreams and designs are very different things. Like practically opposites. More like, it’s just … something undefined swoops in my belly whenever I think of him. And her. Or just him, period.

It’s pretty obnoxious.

He holds up a hand. “Okay, okay. I didn’t think you did, really. Honestly, I sort of thought he had a thing for you. Well, at least before you started giving him the vocal smackdown with ‘Coattails,’ but if he can’t hang with a little competition, then he ain’t worthy of you.”

I grin and hold my glass up in a toast. “Cheers, Jay. That’s remarkably sweet-ish of you to say. Though completely unnecessary. Lora can have Clay.”

Jason smirks. “Ah, so you did notice her hanging around.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” In truth, it was hard to miss the dark-haired beauty. I would love to easily dismiss her as some typical ex–beauty queen, but honestly, she’s cool. Kind, pretty, smart … and has a pair of pipes on her I’d murder for. Her rendition of “America the Beautiful” would make professional football players weep. She also thinks my song about Clay is hilarious.

She’s clearly got her head on straight.

“It’s not serious.”

I bite into my bagel with extra cream cheese and take my time chewing. “It’s none of our business if it is or isn’t.”

“The way you two stare at each other, I figured you might want to tuck it away for later. Fitz says they’re only fu—”

I cringe. “All right, that’s enough. I’m not interested in a show business romance. I’m busy as all get-out, and even if I weren’t, Clay Coolidge seems like the exact kind of trouble I should avoid.”

“According to Fitz,” Jason plows on, “Lora’s not really that great for Clay. She’s all about his image and not interested in his art. She doesn’t challenge him.”

I lift a shoulder, dipping my finger into the cream cheese oozing off the edge of my bagel. “He doesn’t want to be challenged. He likes his gig, and I can’t say I blame him. He’s comfortable, he’s rich, he’s got it all in the palm of his hand.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have someone who really knows or cares about him. He doesn’t have support.”

I drop my breakfast and wipe my hands on the cloth napkin. “Holy Hannah, Jason! How do you even know this? Fitz? I had no idea you two were such old biddies. I talked to Clay, and he took my head off when I suggested he might be more than booze and barflies. He’s not pining for something different. Leave it. Please.”

“You said that to Clay?” Jason whistles low. “So that’s what all of the icy avoidance is about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t been avoiding anyone, and neither has he. We don’t have to be best friends; we’re basically coworkers when it comes down to it.” And I mean it. I’m not angry any longer. We both said our piece. Perhaps I overstepped, and maybe he was a jerk. It was weeks ago, and I’m too busy to hold a grudge.