Bad Girl

by Piper Lawson

  He tosses the hair out of his face, glancing past the camera. “I’m in a public place, but give me two minutes…”

  “I mean with snacks. Festive music,” I chide. “Do you ever not think about sex?”

  “If it’s a toss-up between the “Monster Mash” and sex, I’ll take sex. Every time.”

  I’m pretty sure I’m the luckiest girl in the world. Because the sex Jax Jamieson is talking about?

  Yeah. It’s with me.

  In his bed. In my shower. In my bed.

  He suggested we do it next to my poster of him, but I shot him down.

  I think he was joking.

  I hope he was.

  Although now that I think about it…

  I shake my head. It feels like we’ve only scratched the surface. I can tell from the way he looks at me that he wants so much more.

  I’m not sure I can keep up.

  “I lived like a saint the last few years, Hales.”

  “Your own fault.”

  “Or maybe I was waiting for you.”

  The offhand comment hits me in the solar plexus.

  Even though the days he stayed over when Mace was in hospital were hellish, I feel like they brought us closer.

  Sure, he’s still in Dallas, and I’m still in Philly.

  He’s a rock star—okay, recovering—and I’m a student—fine, not even. But I can’t give up on the tiny glimmer of hope in my chest that maybe we’re something special, like Jax himself.

  “Get home safe, Hales.” His voice pulls me back. “Text me when you get there.”

  I hang up and pack up my things. Maybe I’m projecting. Looking for someone to pluck me from obscurity, to tell me I mean something to them.

  Since the night at the jazz concert, I haven’t seen Cross once.

  I know he’s the head of a company, and I rarely saw him before, but now I have the feeling he’s keeping me at arm’s length.

  I go to pick up my mail on the way out. There’s an envelope there, and it doesn’t look like a paycheck.

  I open it carefully, my breath catching when I get to the end.

  It’s an employment offer to work in the tech department next semester.

  Full-time.

  This has to be Cross’s doing, but I have zero idea why he did it. Because they need help? Or as a favor?

  Maybe he wants to see you more.

  I’m not sure what to make of that, but I want to find out.

  Cross probably isn’t here, but I take the stairs up to the third floor just in case.

  As I start down the dark hallway, I notice lights on in the recording studio. The door’s open a crack.

  I peer through the door, through the dark mixing booth, to the bright studio beyond.

  There’s a teenager in there. She doesn’t look like the usual commercial type.

  The girl finishes, and a familiar voice comes over the mic. “Try it from the bridge. We’ll get what we can in the next few minutes. I don’t want to keep people waiting.”

  My chest tightens as I take in the silhouette in front of the single lit computer screen.

  I slide out of view, flattening my back against the wall. Is this why Cross said there was no studio time? He’s recording kids?

  Maybe this is how he finds them. His new recruiting strategy. The age of reality TV and YouTube stars is saturated, so he’s going back to first principles—recruiting from local talent.

  Maybe you should leave before you land yourself in an epic amount of trouble. From what I’ve seen, getting on Cross’s bad side is not a good idea.

  On my way out, I see three more high school students walk in the front doors. I expect security to send them packing, but the guard on duty waves them through.

  I can’t resist stopping one of them, a kid who can’t be more than fourteen, with full lips and spiked hair.

  “They’re running a few minutes late,” I offer. He mutters a thanks, but I continue. “Are there more of you coming? Or is this it for tonight?”

  He hesitates, glancing down at the badge on my hip. The credibility seems to soothe him a little. “I think we’re the last slot.”

  His voice sends ripples down my spine, and I know he can sing. “Your parents don’t notice you coming home this late?”

  He smiles. “My parents can’t keep track of themselves.”

  “Right.” I match his smile, though I don’t feel it on the inside.

  “Tyler!” one of the other kids calls from the elevator. “Come on.”

  “It was nice meeting you,” I say.

  “Yeah, sure.” He gives me a strange look, but the smile lingers.

  “Hey, Tyler!” I call as the doors are about to close. They open again, one of the kids muttering under his breath. “Did you have to audition for this?”

  “No. You just sign up at school and get on the wait list.” He cocks his head. “Only thing I ever signed up for, I think.”

  The doors close, and I’m left in the dark.

  16

  “Where do you put this?”

  Mace looks up from his iPad as I squint at the bird on the island. The package of stuffing is next to it. “Inside.”

  “Inside where?”

  “You know.” Mace makes a circle with the fingers of one hand and plunges the other through it. “Inside.”

  I shoot him a dirty look.

  “You never made a turkey before, Jamieson?”

  “Do I look like I’ve made a fucking turkey before?” Every bit of attention I can muster is on the turkey lying legs-up in the big foil pan. “Why are we doing this?”

  “Because you told your girlfriend about our little tailgating tradition, and she did what girlfriends do and made it less weird.”

  I take the stuffing and start… well… stuffing it.

  “You’re seriously not going to respond to that?”

  “And say what? That she’s not my girlfriend? Call her whatever you want.” He stares at me in stunned silence. “Better yet, take a fucking picture.”

  A few months ago, the idea of dating someone would’ve seemed insane. But recently, I’ve realized I’m slightly obsessed with Haley.

  Not just physically. Hanging out with her. Hearing about her day. Finding out what riles her up. Comparing notes about TV and new albums and everything under the sun.

  We used to talk once or twice a week. Since Mace’s little hospital visit, it’s nearly every day.

  A fact that probably hasn’t escaped her and sure as hell doesn’t escape me.

  A tritone sounds, and I turn to glance at my phone on the counter behind me.

  * * *

  Haley: Just landed. On our way. I have good news and bad news.

  * * *

  When I turn back, Mace is watching me.

  “Still can’t believe you ditched the flip phone.”

  “It was time.”

  With a screen and full keyboard, I can call and text her without it taking an hour to ask a simple question.

  Plus, emojis.

  You can get really dirty with emojis.

  But impromptu eggplants aren’t enough to satisfy me.

  The past few days, an idea’s been forming.

  Haley’s been busting her ass on this app, and if it’s anywhere near as good as I think it is, she has a career in front of her.

  If she’s not in school, there’s nothing keeping her in Philly. She could work on her app anywhere.

  In theory.

  I go back to the turkey, and my lip curls. It feels like penance.

  “Wouldn’t kill you to help,” I say.

  His brows rise as he lifts his chin to better meet my gaze over the counter from his wheelchair. Technically, he could be on crutches, but the doctors suggested this was easier given the nature of his breaks. “It might.”

  I go back to the bird. “All the more reason,” I mutter.

  The house closed on Wednesday, and a company I hired through my agent moved my shit here. Mace came on his own.

&n
bsp; In the couple of days since, we’ve binge-watched three seasons of sci-fi shows, drank a lot of beer—hard liquor is off the table given the meds he’s on, which I insisted he take if he’s going to stay with me—and basically acted like kids.

  What we haven’t done is talk about what happened.

  I finish filling the bird with bread and wash my hands with extra soap, turning back to him.

  “Stepping off a building is pretty fucking drastic, Ryan.” I can’t remember the last time I called him that, and from the expression on his face, he can’t either.

  He blows out a breath, shaking his head and shooting me a look of supreme disappointment. “We’re going to do this now?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to do this now.” He stares at me, but I’m not done. “You think I don’t get you. That I haven’t been there.”

  He rubs his good hand over his jaw. Or I think he does, because he’s rocking a Cast Away beard. “You haven’t.”

  I go to the bar, start hauling bottles out for tonight. “I saved your ass. Every time touring spun you out, I pulled you back.”

  I unscrew the top of the bourbon and pour one for myself. The smoky flavor burns my throat as I meet my friend’s somber gaze.

  “It’s different for you. You’re Cross’s fucking boy wonder—you were from the start. Everyone wanted a piece of you.”

  “That’s crap.” I don’t for a second believe this is about jealousy. He’s been in this business too long, been on too many stages, cashed too many checks. “You’ve been part of Riot Act since the beginning. You know how this works. You’re on top until someone takes a swipe at you. Until the world decides you’re too big and cuts you off at the knees.”

  “That’s the stupid part, Jax. You cut yourself off at the knees,” he mutters. “You’re on top of the damn universe, and instead of riding the ride, you stepped off.”

  Anger rises inside me, but he’s not done. Under the facial hair, his blue eyes flash.

  “You’re quitting because what—you want to make amends? The rest of us sit around because we can’t do what you want to. If we had half the chances you have, we’d be doing every one of those things. Trust me on that.”

  I hate hearing him talk like this because even if the words aren’t true, they’re true for him. He believes them.

  We’ve been friends as long as I’ve been at this. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother. And what burns me is I didn’t know.

  He didn’t tell me what was going on. I wasn’t there to see him. To chew him out.

  To fix him.

  The doorbell rings. Or more accurately, the security bell for the front gate.

  I hit the buzzer to admit the car.

  “You have good Thanksgivings growing up, Ry?”

  “No.”

  “Me either. But let’s fucking pretend for one night.”

  We finish in the kitchen, and a few minutes later, I hear the front door open. The beeping of the disabled alarm system.

  “Jamieson!”

  I’d know Lita’s call anywhere, and I stride through the hallway, my socks padding on the marble as they come into view.

  Lita’s wearing some purple dress that makes her bright-red hair even redder as she drops the overnight bag next to her. Brick slides in after her, and Kyle too. They seem to have borne the brunt of the luggage. Serena sets a suspicious-looking carrier in front of her as she steps out of tall heels.

  My gaze narrows. “Tell me you didn’t bring that thing to my house.”

  “He can’t fend for himself for a weekend.”

  I bend and inspect the bars, the little nose poking through. I shake my head.

  “We didn’t think they’d let her take him on the plane,” Lita says. “But she dyed him black and convinced them he was a cat.”

  I glance up as one more comes through the door.

  I swear the front hall gets a little brighter.

  Haley’s wearing a dress that stops halfway down her thighs with tights and these tiny boots. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips curved.

  She drops her bag and crosses to me, glancing toward the carrier on the way. “That’s the bad news. Sorry.” She leans in so we’re sharing breath, and I’m hypnotized by the sheen of her lip gloss as she lowers her voice. “We’ll wait until she’s asleep, then put him in the garage. You want to hear the good news?”

  I drop my mouth to hers and feel her surprised intake of breath as I kiss her.

  The chuckles and comments in the background barely register.

  Haley’s body melts under my hands, and when I pull back, her lips are soft.

  “You’re the good news, Hales.”

  The smile on her face takes the edge off everything.

  That’s when I know it’s true.

  I’m totally falling for this girl.

  I’d expected careening headfirst for someone would be accompanied with dread.

  But now that I’m admitting it, it’s not. It’s like a weight has lifted off me.

  Haley tilts her head, her gaze working over mine. “What is it?”

  I grin. “Nothing.”

  As much as I’d like to stay in this bubble, we’ve got a Thanksoween to deliver.

  I link my fingers through hers and tug her after me to find the others.

  When we walk into the kitchen, Lita has her arms around Mace’s neck, and he’s a few shades darker than I remember.

  She turns her attention toward the counter. “Ooh, I love it when men cook.”

  “You know that needs at least four hours, right?” Serena says.

  “Was just about to put it in, Skunk Girl.” I fold my arms over my chest. “We have twenty years on international tours filling stadiums. I think we can cook a damned turkey.”

  “Did you take out the giblets?”

  “The what?” Mace and I echo.

  We spend the rest of the day drinking and cooking and talking.

  Then we finally sit down to dinner. It’s the only time I can see using my formal dining room, and the table I had delivered yesterday works like a charm.

  “Since this is a Halloween and Thanksgiving hybrid, should we say what we’re thankful for?” Serena quips over the gravy.

  “Wrapping albums,” Lita says.

  Serena says, “Old friends. And new ones.”

  “Good food,” Kyle says.

  “Hard pass,” says Mace, and I shoot him a look.

  “Things working out,” Haley says. “I may not be in school, but I can pay the rent and program. I submitted my app to the competition yesterday.”

  Pride fills my chest as everyone congratulates her, as if I had some part in it.

  In a way, I did.

  “What about Wicked?” Lita asks.

  Haley’s gaze meets mine, and I swear there’s guilt in it. “I was offered a chance to stay on in the IT department. I’m thinking through it.”

  That comment has me dropping the spoon back in the cranberry sauce. “I thought you owed Cross four months, then you were done with it.”

  “Maybe I want to stay.”

  Everyone turns to me.

  “What about you, Jax?” Lita asks, clearly sensing the tension.

  “You could start with this big-ass house,” Serena says.

  “Or the fact that you make music that makes girls strip naked,” Kyle offers.

  “Think I hear something buzzing,” I mutter, rising from my seat and turning toward the kitchen. A chorus of boos follows.

  “I didn’t mean it!” Kyle hollers.

  The rest of dinner gets monopolized by Lita recounting stories from Nashville, which Haley sometimes jumps in on, and Serena answering Kyle’s questions about her skunk. Including how he escapes everything.

  “That better not include his damned cage,” I mutter as I’m having seconds of potatoes.

  Serena’s answer is to gulp more wine.

  But I couldn’t care less about the skunk because I’m still stuck on what Haley said.

  Wicked offered
her a job, and she’s thinking of taking it.

  Just when I thought he’d finished screwing with my life.

  He can’t know I’m thinking of asking her to move in with me. I know that logically.

  But more than that, it bugs me that she’s thinking about it. That she wants anything to do with the guy after what he’s done to both of us.

  After we all eat way too much dinner, we move to the massive living room overlooking the patio to drink and eat candy. The pool’s heated, but no one wants to swim. Lita and Brick play the requisite game of Guitar Hero. Mace and Haley place bets on the outcome.

  Serena’s gone to take the little demon for a walk. Kyle tags along, asking something about skunk charities when their voices are cut off by the closing front door.

  I’m drinking and ignoring the game.

  At least until my glass is empty.

  I get up and go to the kitchen to refill it.

  “So what are other traditions of Thanksoween?”

  Haley’s low voice has me looking over my shoulder.

  The tights should keep me from thinking about her legs wrapped around me, but nope. Her dress has little points of sleeves and neckline that’s a modest curve, but I’m jealous of the fact that it’s touching her all over and I’m not.

  “After dessert and drinks, the guests blow the host.”

  She shifts a hip against the marble island, raising a brow. “All the guests? I’m not sure I can compete with Kyle. He has that raw enthusiasm going for him.”

  I shake my head, turning back to pour another bourbon.

  “How’s Annie?” she asks after a moment.

  “She won’t talk to me.”

  Haley makes a face, reaching for her stomach. “I’m sorry, Jax. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but she’ll come around. She’ll see how much you care about her and that you only want what’s best for her.”

  “Maybe. In the meantime, the lawyers can deal with it.” Haley’s questioning look makes me go on. “Annie knows who I am now. There’s already a confirmation of paternity, thanks to her mother. So there’s nothing stopping me filing for custody.”

  She looks stunned. “You’re going to sue for access? Jax, she’s been given some information that’s turned her life upside down. She needs time.”

  “A month? Two? I guess that’s what it took for you to forgive the man who ignored you your whole life and go to work for him.”