Music of the Heart

by Katie Ashley

  “Ugh!” I grunted as I finished rinsing my hair. I had claimed I wanted to gain some kind of experience of the whole bet situation, and unfortunately, I was getting more than I had bargained for. I’d been on the bus almost thirty-six hours, and my life had already been turned completely upside down.

  As I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, I shivered at the thought of what the rest of the week might hold. Trying to tune out the wild and crazy thoughts flitting through my mind, I worked on drying my hair. I doused myself in lotion to make sure there wasn’t the possibility of any remaining puke smell.

  Since I had yet to make it the store and my yoga pants and one t-shirt were puke stained, I slipped on a cami and a pair of jersey shorts. After I unlocked the door, I pressed my ear to the frame, listening for any sounds of Jake stirring. I rolled my eyes when I realized how stupid I probably looked. I don’t know what I was so paranoid about. It wasn’t like Jake would ever try anything. I guess I was more afraid of not wanting to stop him, rather than not being able to.

  With a deep breath, I exited the bathroom. Jake was nowhere in sight, and I could only imagine he was still dead to the world in the bedroom. Bringing my hands to my hips, I pondered what to do with my evening. Studying and not getting behind while out on tour was high on my list of priorities, so I dug my books out of my bag. But before I sat down, I surveyed the inside of the bus and wrinkled my nose. These boys were just as bad as my brothers when it came to being slobs. Pulling my hair back in a ponytail, I surmised that there was no way I could concentrate on studying surrounded by all the filth.

  Bending down, I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves, cleaner, and sponges out from under the sink. As I started wiping down the counters, I realized it was entirely too quiet. I ambled over to the stereo system and started going through AJ’s CD collection. When I got to Michael Jackson’s Greatest Hits, I stopped. “Oh yeah, a little old school MJ will do just fine.”

  The opening 80’s synthesized melody of Beat It blared out of the speakers. Nodding my head, I started singing along, using my sponge as a make-shift microphone. As I cleaned up the table and chairs, I started shimmying and shaking my ass around the bus. There was nothing like cleaning to good music, and you could say I was a bit Michael Jackson obsessed.

  I was halfway through playing air guitar on Eddie Van Halen’s solo when a hand on my shoulder caused me to shriek. I spun around, dropping the sponge and cleaner. It clattered noisily onto the floor.

  Jake gave me an epic smirk. “Nice moves, Angel, but could you turn that down?”

  My cheeks felt enflamed. “Oh, yeah, so sorry,” I muttered, hurrying over to flick off the stereo. As I tried stilling my erratic breath, silence echoed through the bus as Jake and I stood staring at each other. “Um, how are you feeling?”

  He winced as he rubbed his head. “What do you think? I woke up in Hell with Michael Jackson pounding in my ears.”

  When I snickered, he added, “Not to mention, I staggered out here to scream at the guys only to see you in that outfit,” he motioned to my cami and shorts, “shaking your ass.” He cocked his brows. “Totally not within the parameters of our bet, Angel.”

  Sweeping a hand to my hip, I spat, “Sorry, but I have to have music on while I’m cleaning, and as for the clothes, well, you puked all over my least allegedly provocative outfit.”

  “Oh Christ,” he muttered. It was like the memory of everything that had happened came crashing down on Jake, and he shuddered, falling back against the counter. His weary eyes met mine. He ran his hands over his face and furrowed his eyebrows at the feeling of the crusty, puke stains. “I was so fucked up earlier.”

  “It’s okay. Sit down.” My caring instinct kicked into overdrive as I pushed him into one of the captain’s chairs. After I grabbed a fresh cloth out of the drawer, I ran it under the warm water while trying not to let my mind wander to which part of our earlier conversation he was most regretful about—the wanting to screw me or wanting me to like him.

  Instead, I rinsed out the rag and then took it over to Jake. “Um, would you mind doing it for me since I don’t have a mirror?” When I gave him a skeptical look, he laughed. “This isn’t a come on, Angel.” He held out his hand to show me the slight trembling. “I’m not sure I trust my ass walking to the bathroom.”

  “Fine then,” I muttered. In long strokes, I started washing his face.

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “Damn, that feels good.” I tipped his head back and scrubbed down his chin. Squinting one of his eyes at me, he asked, “Why are you always taking care of me?”

  “You’re always a mess,” I countered.

  “I know,” he murmured. Sadness swept across his face. “I think you’re a masochist.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, someone who likes pain.”

  “And why do you say that?”

  “Because even though I treat you like a total dick, you’re still nice to me and still want to help me.”

  “You’re not always a…” I wrinkled my nose before replying, “dick.”

  Jake gave me a half-hearted smile. “Mostly I am. Especially to you. And I’m sorry for it. I really am.”

  I froze in mid-scrub at his apology. It was certainly not what I was expecting him to say, and when I searched his eyes, I saw the sincerity in them. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Silence echoed around us until Jake cleared his throat. “After everything, you really don’t think I’m a total asshole?”

  I laughed. “Well, not all the time. You were a giant one this afternoon.” At his grimace, I added, “But you’ve also given me brief glimpses of the guy deep down inside you. You have your redeeming qualities too.” I left him to go rinse out the rag again. “And I don’t know about being a masochist. But I do know about trying to be the good person my parents raised me to be.”

  Amusement replaced the anguish in his eyes. “Ah, yes, an allegedly good girl with a heart of gold but who also has the mouth of a sailor.”

  I couldn’t help laughing at his summation of me. “Yep, that’s pretty true. But hey, I don’t drink or sleep around. I should be able to have one vice, so I guess a potty mouth is it.”

  I trailed the rag down his chest, swiping the puke off the intricate tattoos inking his skin. “So many tattoos,” I murmured.

  “You don’t like them?”

  “No, I do. My brothers have some. In fact, I was thinking about getting one.”

  Jake howled with laugher. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Well, I am,” I huffed smacking his arm with the rag.

  “Oh Angel, I would love to see that.”

  “Fine then. Maybe you can take me to get one.”

  A mischievous glint twinkled in his blue eyes. “Are you about to make another bet with me?”

  “Maybe.”

  He shook his head slowly back and forth. “I don’t think so, babe. If you go back to your brothers inked up, they’ll kick my ass.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Leave my brothers out of this.”

  Jake held his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’ll take you to get a tat.”

  My eyes widened. “Really?” I squealed.

  He winced and cupped his ears. “Jesus, ease up with the screeching.” When I glared at him, he grinned. “Yeah, I really will. My guy, Adam, is the only one I would trust your delicate skin to. But you better not pussy out on me.”

  I knew he expected a reaction out of me because he had used a word I hated. But I kept my demeanor calm. “Awesome.” I then turned my attention back to cleaning him up.

  When I skimmed above the waistband of his jeans, he grabbed my hand. “I can take it from here.” He winked at me. “You’re getting a little too close for comfort, Angel.”

  “Oh, um, sorry,” I replied. Trying to hide my embarrassment, I whirled around and went back to the kitchen. While I tried busying myself with putting away the clean dishes, Jake rose out of his chair.

  “I probably should g
rab a quick shower.”

  “Okay.”

  As he handed me the rag, a sheepish look came over his face. “When I get out, you think you could fix me some of that chili you made for the guys.”

  “Are you sure your stomach can handle it?”

  “Oh yeah, once I puke it all out, I’m usually good to go and starving a few hours later.”

  “Ew,” I murmured.

  He grinned. “Sorry. But that’s the truth.”

  “Fine. Go shower, and I’ll fix you some dinner.”

  “Thanks, Angel,” he replied before pulling me to him in a chaste hug. When he kissed the crown of my head, I tried not to shudder at the tingly feeling it sent racing throughout my body. My mouth hung open in shock as he padded into the bathroom and closed the door.

  “Wonders never cease,” I murmured under my breath. I then busied myself with reheating some dinner for Jake.

  At the sound of the bathroom door opening, I whirled around. Jake stood there with just a tiny towel wrapped around his waist while water dripped off his body. He glanced down at his lack of attire. “Sorry. My booze-head brain forgot to bring my clothes in with me.”

  “Um, no, it’s okay. I’m just heating up the chili for you. It’ll be ready when you get dressed.”

  “Great.”

  Even though I shouldn’t have, I stood watching him as he walked down the aisle to the bedroom. The fluttering of my heart and churning of my stomach made me realize I was in serious trouble.

  I turned my attention back to setting the table for Jake. He appeared a few moments later in a t-shirt that was entirely too small for him because it highlighted every rippling muscle he had along with a pair of ratty boxer shorts.

  Frozen, I stood staring at him like he was a vision or something. His hair was still damp, and a few droplets glistened on his face. When he caught me, warmth burned across my cheeks.

  “Were you just ogling me, Angel?”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  He chuckled. “I think you were.”

  I whirled around and swept my hands to my hips. “Fine I was ogling you. Happy now?”

  “Actually I am. I like it when you look at me like you want me. Like you think I’m… handsome.”

  My brows rose in surprise. “Handsome? That doesn’t sound like the way you would describe yourself.”

  With a grin, he asked, “And just how would I describe myself?”

  “Hmm, sexy, hot as hell, and panty melting?” I challenged as I handed him a Coke.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Those really describe me better.”

  I set a glass of water down. “Make sure you drink all of that and the Coke. You’re probably dehydrated.”

  “Yes, Dr. Renard,” he replied, amusement twinkled in his eyes.

  “The nurse in me would say for you not to eat anything, least of all chili.”

  “Trust me, I know my body, Angel.”

  “Whatever.”

  After he took in a large spoonful of chili, he closed his eyes and moaned in appreciation. “Damn, this is really good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So you can cook too?”

  “A little. My grandmother is a diehard Texan, and that’s her secret recipe.”

  “It’s fucking amazing.”

  I grinned. “I’ll be sure to tell her just that.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, right. Although you have a potty mouth, I can’t see you dropping the f-bomb in front of your grandma.”

  “True, very true.”

  We sat there in silence for a few minutes while he devoured the chili like he hadn’t eaten for days. I couldn’t possibly see how he was going to keep it all down or how sick he might be tomorrow, but I kept my mouth shut.

  Finally, Jake glanced up at me. “Abby, we need to talk about earlier.”

  “We do?” I asked, playing with a frayed string on the placemat.

  He bobbed his head. “I know I was totally fucked up this afternoon, and I don’t know what all I said to you.” He winced like he was in pain. “I have a pretty good idea that I was a disrespectful douchebag to you about Bree. I should have never brought her on the bus with you here. I’m sorry.”

  I think my mouth dropped so far open it banged against the table at him once again giving me such a heartfelt apology. Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more shocked, he continued on. “You’ve been nothing but caring and compassionate to me even when I didn’t deserve it. And trust me when I say it, that I really and truly am sorry.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “So are we good? No hard feelings and all that?”

  I laughed. “You believe in instant forgiveness and no grudges, huh?”

  “Not exactly, but I hope you won’t hold what happened against me for long.”

  “I’ll try, okay? I mean, you just can’t act the way you did to me and expect me to fall into your waiting arms.”

  His brows furrowed. “I can’t?”

  “Um, no, it doesn’t work that with me. Maybe with your harem of female admirers, but I’m different.”

  “You can say that again,” he murmured. As his spoon scraped across the bottom of his bowl, I rose up to get him some more. “No, I’m good.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He smiled. “Don’t want to overdo it.”

  I laughed. “I would think even two spoonfulls was overdoing it, but I don’t know your body, right?”

  When Jake widened his eyes slightly, I knew I had made a mistake even innocently mentioning his body.

  “Listen, I need to ask you something else about earlier.” My breath caught at the thought of even remotely revisiting what happened before. “Did I say something embarrassing to you before I puked and passed out?”

  “Jake—”

  His blue eyes blazed with emotion when he finally met my gaze. “I remember some of it. I know I said I wanted to fuck you, but didn’t I say something else? Something more…heartfelt, I hope?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “What was it?” he prompted.

  Somehow I remembered everything he had told me verbatim, so I repeated it. Jake’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “But don’t worry about the wanting someone-like-me-to-love-you part. I mean, I know you were drunk,” I quickly added. I popped out of my seat like a Jack-In-The-Box and grabbed his bowl. After hustling over to the kitchen, I put it in the sink and turned on the water.

  I gasped when Jake’s body pressed into my back. “Angel,” he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. I shivered in spite of the heat. “I meant every word of what I said—the good and the bad.”

  Spinning around, I stared into his eyes. When I saw the sincerity in them, my heartbeat accelerated. “You did?”

  “Yes, I really want to have sex while you’re wearing cowboy boots,” he deadpanned.

  I laughed in spite of myself. I knew for someone like Jake, all the feelings stuff was getting too intense for him, and he needed to lighten it. “That’s good to know, but sadly, I don’t see it happening any time soon.”

  “Bummer,” he replied. He reached over to sweep a lock of hair out of my face. Once he pinned it behind my ear, he smiled.

  The sound of my phone ringing brought me out of the moment. When I glanced at the Facetime request, I grimaced. “Sorry. I have to take this.”

  “Your parents?”

  “No, it’s the guy opening for my brothers. We’re supposed to be singing a duet my first night and throughout the tour.”

  “Hmm,” was Jake’s reply.

  As my thumb reluctantly slid across the button, I plastered a smile to my face. “Hey Garrett.”

  His smiling image reflected back at me. In some ways, Garrett reminded me of a late 20’s version of Justin Bieber, although he was a lot more talented. “Hey beautiful. How’s it going?”

  “Good thanks. You?”

  “Just ‘good’ is all I get? I mean, your brothers told me all about your little adventure on Runaway Trai
n’s bus.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure they did. I’m kinda the family black sheep at the moment.”

  “You’re kinda my black sheep too. I mean, I’m going to be denied precious rehearsal time with you for our duet.”

  I gasped. “Oh no! I totally forgot about that. I’m so sorry. Listen if you don’t think I’ll be ready, I don’t have to do it.”

  Garrett chuckled. “Abby, I’m only teasing you. I know you’ll be fine if we get only one run through.”

  “Oh,” I replied before exhaling in relief.

  “I’m just bummed I miss out on all that time with you.”

  As my cheeks warmed, Jake muttered, “Douchebag,” under his breath.

  “Excuse me?” Garrett said.

  “Oh nothing. Must’ve been the TV on in the bedroom.” Trying to change the subject, I asked, “So are we still on for Sunday night?”

  “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to have you on stage with me. I mean, Don’t You Wanna Stay is a hot song, don’t you think?”

  I nodded my head.

  “Maybe as the tour goes on we can add a few more duets in there.”

  “Sure. That would be great.”

  “Five minutes, G,” a voice came from over Garrett’s shoulder.

  “I gotta go Abby. I just wanted to call and check-in on you.”

  “Thanks. But I’m fine. I promise.”

  His expression darkened a little. “And trust me, if any of those assholes lay one finger on you, they won’t just have your brothers to answer to.”

  At Jake’s growl beside me, I quickly added, “Aw, that’s sweet. But they’ve been perfect gentlemen.”

  “They better. See you Sunday.” He gave a short wave to which I waved back. Then he ended the call.

  “Ugh, what a tool!” Jake exclaimed.

  “He’s really being nice letting me sing with him. It’s a good introduction to the crowd.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Of course he wants to let you sing, Angel. He wants in your pants.”

  “According to you guys and my brothers, doesn’t every guy?”

  He scowled at me. “Trust me when I tell you to watch yourself around him.”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what his intentions are with me. I’m certainly not interested in him.”