“That’s very kind of you,” she said finally. “But I think I’m done with clubbing for the foreseeable future.”
“Right, of course.”
She reached up to play with a small earring in her ear, and I watched her for a second too long before clearing my throat. “Do you want me to drive you back to your place?”
“No, I’ll call an Uber. You’ve done enough.”
As she pulled out her phone, I went over to the fridge to grab a protein shake, all too aware of her presence only a few feet away. My pulse was still racing, despite the fact that it had been over ten minutes since I got off the treadmill. I couldn’t even try to pretend that it wasn’t because of her.
“Why did you come?” Her voice was so quiet that I barely heard it.
I stared inside the fridge as I tried to come up with an appropriate explanation. In truth, I couldn’t really explain it. A day earlier, Ivy had told me to stay away from her, and I’d left that coffee shop with every intention of doing exactly that. But when I got her message and realized she may be in trouble, I’d gotten up off my sofa, grabbed my car keys, and left. I hadn’t needed to mull it over, weigh the pros and cons, come up with a rationalization… Going to Ivy had been instinctual.
Just like it’d been in that dressing room.
I didn’t know I’d find her there, but when I saw her, it was as if I’d been looking for her all along. Something had shifted in me when I’d kissed her. It was a stolen kiss, one that should never have happened, yet in the moment, the sweet taste of her mouth had felt like coming home. That kiss began to change things for me. It made me want more out of life.
It seemed tragic to feel this way about a person who wanted nothing to do with me.
I shut the fridge and turned to her. She was hugging herself. “I wanted to help you. It was another way to make my amends.” It wasn’t a complete lie. It also wasn’t the entire truth.
Her lips quivered at my response. I couldn’t tell if she was on the verge of crying or yelling at me, and I didn’t get a chance to find out as her attention bounced back to her phone.
“The driver’s here,” she muttered, her voice hoarse.
I nodded. “You got all your stuff?”
“Yeah.”
We made our way to the front door, and I waited as she put on her shoes. When she straightened up, her lips quirked into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t.”
She leveled me with one long searching look, then she turned around, and left.
Ivy left practically no trace of herself in the guest bedroom. The bed was impeccably made. I could imagine her fretting over it, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on the bedspread as if she could erase all evidence of her night here.
Something pulled me toward the bed, and I lay down on top of the comforter, thinking of her lying here just minutes earlier. I turned my face to inhale the lingering scent she’d left behind. Jasmine and sunshine. The jasmine was from the soap I had in the bathroom, but the sunshine was all her. Soon, she’d shower, and nothing of mine would remain on her skin.
I sat up and lowered my head in my palms. Thinking about her in this romanticized way was a form of self-torture.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed Nial. He picked up on the third ring. “What’s up, Jamie?”
“Got a few minutes?” I asked, leaving the guest room and moving to the living room sofa.
“Of course.”
Nial and I got matched at the end of my stint at the rehab facility. He was on their list of available sponsors, and I picked him solely based on the fact that years ago, he’d also been in a band. I didn’t need to explain my old lifestyle for him to get where I was coming from. He lived down in Irvine with his wife, Sarah, so we didn’t meet up all that much in person, but he was always just a phone call away.
“I think I need to start dating again.”
Nial chuckled. “Oh yeah? And what brought on that realization?”
“The fact that just dancing with a beautiful woman gave me boner like I’m sixteen again.”
He laughed. “You went dancing?”
“I went clubbing, but not like you think. I didn’t drink. Was barely tempted, if I’m honest. I was too busy getting tempted by the girl.”
“So why don’t you date this girl?”
“It was Ivy.”
The line went silent. Nial knew all about Ivy and what had happened between us on that tour.
“How did that happen?” he finally asked.
“She texted me by accident. She got high on MDMA, her friend ditched her, and she needed someone to keep her company. I showed up and hung out with her for a few hours before taking her to crash at my house.”
“You shouldn’t be around users,” Nial said.
“She’s not a user. It was her first time, and given her sorry state this morning, I’m pretty sure she’s never going to try it again. Fuck, man. The entire time at the club, she made my head spin. She started off just being friendly, but then she was flirting with me, and asking me to take her home and it was just…” I groaned.
“And you did.”
“Yeah, but nothing happened. Before we left, I told her she could crash in my guest room because she didn’t want to go home to her roommate. And on the drive over, it wore off, and she looked like a goddamn deer in the headlights. It made me feel like shit.”
“You did the right thing,” Nial said. “No need to feel bad about it.”
I sat up. “I know that. I don’t feel bad for helping her. It just felt shitty receiving a very quick confirmation that none of it was real.”
“You don’t know that,” Nial countered. “If it was her first time, the crash must have hit her hard.”
“C’mon. You know how our meeting in the coffee shop went. I’m not delusional.”
“I remember. She said you’re a liar who hasn’t changed. I think you just showed her she was wrong.”
Was last night enough to redeem myself in Ivy’s eyes? I wasn’t sure, but maybe it was a start.
I ran my hand through my hair. “I doubt I’ll see her again. But after last night I realized how much I miss feeling that…connection to people.”
Nial hummed his agreement. “Go for it. I’ve been telling you this celibacy-as-punishment thing is counterproductive.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I think it’s time.”
We hung up, and I went to shower. By the time I remembered I still needed to strip the sheets in the guest room, it was early afternoon. Grabbing the laundry basket, I made my way to the guest bedroom. I needed to clean this room, remove the small traces left of Ivy and forget last night ever happened. The dancing had meant nothing, she made that clear enough this morning. I just needed to start putting myself out there again. Then maybe I would stop thinking about a woman who never was and never would be meant for me.
I carried the full basket through the kitchen toward the laundry room, stopping when my phone lit up on the island. Balancing the basket on one hip, I reached for the device.
There was a text message.
It was from Ivy.
Sheets slid to the floor in a messy puddle as the basket fell out of my hand.
IVY
When I got home around nine am, Zoey was already up and pouring herself a cup of coffee. “How was your ni—” Her eyes widened as she registered my appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”
I knew what she was seeing. Puffy eyes, dry lips, the sorry state of my hair. Before I left Jamie’s, I saw myself in the mirror and decided it was best not to look for long.
“I’m going to preface this by saying I’m an idiot, I know I’m an idiot, and I’m never going to be an idiot again.” I dropped my purse on the kitchen island and leaned on it with both hands. “Please let me get through the entire story before you crucify me, okay?”
Her brows pulled together. “I hate every word that just left your mouth, but fine. Hit
me.”
I braced myself and dived into the sad tale of my latest attempt at pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
I recounted everything from the moment I met up with Mimi. Zoey listened, gasping in horror at the particularly awful bits.
“I told you that girl is bad news,” she exclaimed when I got to the part where our neighbor ditched me.
When I was finished, she shook her head in silence for a good five seconds. “What a hot mess. I honestly don’t even know where to start.”
“Jamie. We need to start with Jamie.”
His actions had thoroughly stunned me.
I couldn’t make heads or tails of what had gone down in the past twelve hours with me and him, or begin to reconcile the awful liar I thought he was with the thoughtful and levelheaded man who’d come to my rescue.
Placing her empty mug down, Zoey stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “Okay, but after we cover him, I’m going to need a good fifteen minutes to bitch you out for some seriously poor decision-making.”
“Fair.” I walked to the sofa and sat down, tucking my legs under me. “Zoey, why the hell did he come for me?”
“He told you why. Because he wanted to help you.”
“After I told him to shove his apology up his ass?” I asked. “Is he some kind of a saint?”
Zoey sat down on the carpet across from me. “Honestly? Based on what you told me, he sounds like a really decent guy.”
“A decent guy? He’s a liar.”
“That’s not fair.” My friend sucked both of her lips inside her mouth and shook her head. “You don’t know that for sure.”
I began to argue, but she lifted her hand to silence me. “Look, even if he did lie about Oliver, that could have been an isolated incident. You don’t really know what bad blood they have between them. But this picture you have of Jamie in your head? The awful, corrupt, untrustworthy former rock god? It doesn’t match up with the guy who let you crash at his house and brought you fucking coconut water.”
I couldn’t argue with that. It didn’t make any sense. “I’ve spent the past two years thinking badly of him.”
“Hmm. Did you think badly of him when you were grinding up on him?”
I shot her a glare. “Thanks for the reminder. No, as soon as I saw him, I was blinded by his hotness.”
Zoey snorted a laugh. “But the forgiving mood didn’t last once you sobered up?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I’m confused about how I feel. He was so decent the entire time, even in the morning…” I remembered how he’d tried to make me feel less ashamed of my actions. It was kind of him.
“You have to allow for the possibility that there is more to him than the guy with a vendetta against Oliver,” Zoey said, wrapping her arms around her knees.
“So you’re saying I’ve misjudged him?”
“I’m saying it’s possible. The guy you’ve spent a truly mind-boggling amount of hours shit talking to me about does not sound like the guy who practically babysat you all night. And all that without trying to get into your pants, even when you all but offered yourself up to him.”
“Ah, shit.” I dropped my gaze. The memories of me trying to get into his pants filled me with embarrassment. “I’m never going to live that down.”
Zoey’s snicker made me look back up. “So much for trying to tell me you’re not attracted to him.”
“It was just the drugs,” I said. “I’m most certainly not attracted to Jamie Berg.”
But, shit. The way he’d looked in that kitchen, all sweaty and toned and practically ready to devour… I was dead sober then, and my stomach had still done a flip when I saw him.
“You look like you’ve just discovered a filthy porno you know you shouldn’t enjoy, but damn, if it doesn’t get you off.”
My cheeks heated. “Jesus. No need to call me out like that.”
She cackled, rising to sit on the sofa beside me. “I gotta give it to you. If you want to lose your V-card to someone memorable… Well, he’s the perfect candidate. Much better than some random you’d hoped to pick up at the club.” She wrinkled her nose in disapproval before growing more serious. “You could have gotten in a lot of trouble if Jamie hadn’t shown up when he did.”
“I know, I know.” I let out a shuddering breath. There were plenty of guys who would have been happy to take advantage of my state. In retrospect, my entire plan now seemed utterly reckless.
I’d been so desperate to make progress on finally getting over Oliver, that I’d put myself in danger. Dozens of emotions swam inside my head. I was mad at Mimi, frustrated with myself, but more than anything, I felt guilty. Guilty for how I’d responded to Jamie’s apology in that coffee shop.
He’d clearly been working really hard to turn his life around. His body was one obvious example of that, and so was the fact that he was apologizing to people he’d hurt in the past. That took guts. How would I feel if I tried to apologize to someone and all they did was throw that apology back in my face? Pretty goddamn miserable. And that was exactly what I’d done to him. Now, that seemed immature and cold-hearted.
I reached for my phone, pulling it out the back pocket of my jeans. “I think I need to do something.”
“What?” Zoey asked, leaning over to look at what I was typing. “You’re messaging him?”
I nodded, typing the text and quickly pressing send.
“What did you say to him?” she asked as I put my phone down.
“I asked if I could take him out for lunch. I think I need to apologize to him.”
“You didn’t do that this morning?”
“I apologized for last night, but I think I need to apologize for what happened at the coffee shop.”
She smiled, her eyes shining with approval. “I think that’s a good idea.”
I toyed with my right earring. “I want to tell him I accept his apology and that I’m ready to move on. End things on a good note, you know?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, her lips pulling up into a knowing smirk. I didn’t get a chance to ask what that was all about before my phone vibrated on the sofa between us.
“Is it him?”
I opened the text. “Yes. He says he can meet on Monday at noon. Wherever works best for me.”
“You should go to this cute new place in Venice Beach—the Saratoga,” Zoey suggested. “I was just there last week. Great rice bowls.”
I nodded and typed my response. “I feel like I need to prepare a speech or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Just talk to him. Ask him about his journey, the whole rehab thing, yadda yadda. You don’t need a speech.”
Pressing send on the message, I let out a long breath.
“I’m nervous,” I told her and stayed quiet about the other things I was feeling. The anticipation of seeing him again. The heady memory of his strong arms wrapped around me. The brief moment where I’d felt how stiff he was from dancing with me.
I shook my head. I was definitely not attracted to Jamie Berg. If I kept repeating that phrase, it would become true, right?
Zoey’s smirk grew when she saw my expression. “Babe, I have a feeling you’ll do just fine.”
13
IVY
The Saratoga was two short blocks away from the beach, and I cursed Zoey under my breath as soon as I walked inside. The place looked like the perfect spot for a romantic date, which was not at all what I was going for. The interior was well lit with natural light, and abundant tropical plants gave just enough privacy to the wooden tables scattered throughout.
I made my way to the upstairs patio, and when I got outside, Jamie was already sitting at a table.
My confidence wavered at the sight of him. I had already humiliated myself this past weekend, and now, I was risking doing so again. He was probably confused as to why I wanted to see him. My message had offered no explanation. And yet, he’d agreed to come. Didn’t he have other things he’d rather be doing?
Actua
lly, now that he was no longer in a band, I wondered how he filled his days. Was he working on something? Did he have a lot of friends in LA?
Well, I wasn’t going to get any answers to these questions by just standing here staring at him.
I took long, steady steps in his direction, all the while telling myself to keep it together. As I got closer, shame prickled across the back of my neck, as it did every time I replayed the events of that night. But I knew that the feeling would only grow worse if I didn’t face it head-on. And that meant clearing things up with Jamie.
His gray eyes, even more clear in the broad daylight, swept up to my face as I sat down in the chair across from him. I gave him a tense smile. He returned it genuinely, his entire face lighting up and shaking whatever flimsy resistance I had tried to put up.
God, he’s beautiful.
His transformation had seemed unbelievable until I googled old photos of Ritual Disruption last night. In the early photoshoots, when he was healthy and youthful, his face didn’t seem much different from the way he looked now. The arresting cheekbones, the luminous deep-set eyes, the slant of his brows… They were all there. The only thing that was truly new was his impressive physique, presently on display in the fitted button-up he was wearing. The fabric stretched across the breadth of his wide shoulders, and the sleeves were pushed up to reveal his tattoos.
Keep it together.
“Thanks for meeting me,” I said, trying to move past the impact of that smile.
“Sure,” he said lightly. “I wasn’t expecting your message, to be honest.”
As if the smile wasn’t enough, his voice was like a vicious surprise assault on my sanity. Did he talk dirty in bed? Paired with that voice, I was pretty sure he could bring a woman to orgasm without even touching her.
Oh my God. Where the hell did that thought come from?
I squeezed my legs together and fingered the menu sprawled in front of me. “I wanted to clear things up between us.”
Pretty Words: An Enemies To Lovers Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels) Page 17
