Love Struck

by Laurelin McGee

  And was her skin dull and really in need of a scrub?

  “Thanks, Jax. I really appreciate your advice. But I’ll admit, I’m more interested in the process of actually making the music.” Okay, if he figures out who I am, he figures it out. But I’m drunk already, and I don’t know how else to pull him out of his shell.

  “For me, making music is kind of a collaboration.” Finally!

  “I always thought of it as pretty intensely personal, but I’m starting to understand the collaboration thing.” She winked at him. Well, she tried to wink, but both eyes closed, so really what she did was blink very hard at him.

  “It’s like that feeling, when you know you’ve just nailed it?”

  She nodded and smiled. Nodded because she did understand that feeling. Smiled because it would be a perfect time for one of Eli’s that’s-what-she-said jokes.

  “God, I live for that feeling.” Jax leaned forward, clearly feeling as drunk as she was. “Do you know what I mean?” He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. He used it to push himself back onto his own barstool before she had a chance to react.

  There was some lingering warmth where his fingers had rested, but nothing that made her need to excuse herself for some alone time. Probably that was the alcohol numbing her nerve endings. She gave her arm an experimental pinch. It didn’t hurt. Definitely the booze.

  “I do know what you mean. It’s like that song had always existed, and was just waiting for you to uncover it.” He stared at her like he hadn’t really seen her until just then.

  “Damn, Lacypants. That’s really profound. For me, it’s like I just know—just know when it’s right, right here.” He gestured to himself.

  “I literally cannot tell if you mean your gut or your crotch right now.” Lacy giggled. “Crotch” was a funny word.

  “It’s a little bit of both. It’s just—here.” He gestured again, more expansively this time. The leather cuffs he always had on his wrists beneath the tattoos had slipped down a little, and Lacy’s breath stopped cold.

  Because beneath the rock-star cuff on his right wrist was the unmistakable scar of a suicide attempt.

  He was still talking, but she wasn’t listening. After a second, he followed her wide-eyed gaze. She had never seen Jax blush before, but he did as he straightened the strip of material. Her head was whirling, and it actually wasn’t the copious amounts of liquor. Folx had battled depression. This was why he understood her so well. This, this was the source of the disconnect between his anonymous self and his in-person personality. Suddenly all the pieces were clicking into place, showing her the picture of a much more complicated man than she’d even guessed.

  “Jax—” she started.

  “Lace—” he said at the same time.

  “Jinx,” they said simultaneously, and the giggles broke some of the tension of the moment. That and the drink refills Lacy couldn’t remember either of them ordering. She took a fortifying sip. “You first.”

  “I don’t really know what to say. I don’t talk about it with most people, they wouldn’t understand. The band sure never did, even though I tried to tell them…” He trailed off. It looked like he was having a hard time making eye contact, and she totally understood that. It had to be embarrassing and painful to relive.

  “You don’t have to talk about it. But I understand. Really. My fiancé—he was like you. But he didn’t have music. You have music. Doesn’t that change everything?” She knew there were better ways to explain herself, but she couldn’t Word after this much to drink.

  “It does. God, you really get me.” He pulled her into a hug that left her gasping for air, but also feeling profoundly grateful. She’d finally broken through. She finally understood what made FolxNotDead27 the man he was.

  And more importantly, she understood her draw to him. Something—a higher power or the universe or whatever—had brought her to this man so she could fix him in the ways she couldn’t fix Lance. Jax was her do-over.

  Challenge accepted. She’d notice this time. She’d recognize his sad. She’d make sure it didn’t leave him so empty that he felt the need to leave this world. So maybe he wasn’t quite who she’d imagined he’d be in real life. She was still right for him. More than right. It was a twist of fate that could be described as a Plot Twist.

  Man, that revelation felt good.

  “Wanna dance?” she asked as he broke their embrace. The exhilaration of everything that had happened in this perfect, perfect night made it impossible to stay still. Also, assuming she stayed vertical, sweating out some of the alcohol would make for a better morning.

  Instead of answering, Jax ambled over to the jukebox and started inputting a playlist. Perfect night, perfect man. Any echoes of Eli that resulted from that thought could just go take a hike.

  As the opening notes of a Sleigh Bells song blared out of the speaker, she got up, and left all of her doubt sitting on the chair. There was dancing to do. And from the looks of Jax’s moves, if she didn’t get over there soon, someone else would. Drunk or not, that guy could dance. For the umpteenth time, the realization of what a fantastic lead singer he was came over her.

  And the realization of how lucky she was came close on its heels. Lacy had never considered herself much of a stereotypical girl, but the utter smugness she felt at knowing every girl (and a few of the guys) in the room was looking at the one she came with—well, she had no guilt.

  She did have a fleeting thought that being the envy of the town—the world even, if the Blue Hills continued their rise to fame—shouldn’t be her foremost reason for being with a guy. But it wasn’t the foremost reason she was with Jax. She was with him because, in his words, she got him. Eventually he’d get her too. Probably.

  They closed the bar down dancing with only a couple of more supplementary drinks. By the time they stumbled back out into the heat of the night, Lacy needed more than wanted Jax’s arm.

  But that wasn’t it—what was it she wanted to ask him? Oh yeah.

  “Where even are we?” she asked, looking around. Not that looking around meant much. Things were a little blurry, and she wasn’t familiar with the city anyway.

  “Oh, who knows. We’ll figure it out.” Jax had a lazy smile on his face that was at odds with the slight amount of panic Lacy was starting to feel.

  “We will? Will we? I haven’t the first clue where to go.” Thank God she wasn’t wearing heels. She had to look down at her feet to make sure she was still wearing shoes at all.

  “Of course we will. I do this, like, every night.” He strode confidently down the sidewalk and hit the button at the stoplight.

  Lacy hurried to catch up with him. Every night? She imagined him messaging her on his phone for their dates on SoWriAn as he wandered the town. And what about the nights he’d missed their dates altogether? Shit, was he drinking this much solo? He must be more troubled than I realized. She resolved to pay a little more attention to what he was doing after the shows.

  Ten blocks later, she was sobering up, but not lightening up. She wished she had a jacket as the chill cut through the leftover warmth from the liquor. Her feet were aching, even without heels, and all she wanted was a bottle of water and a place to sit.

  She was also pretty sure Jax had no idea where they were, but he still looked happy, and she wasn’t going to start stressing him out. A drop hit her head, and then another, and then the rain started coming in earnest. He threw his arms out and laughed.

  Well, hell. Three-thirty in the morning or not, her Best Night Ever wasn’t over, and damned if Jax was going to have all the fun.

  She grabbed his hand and tossed her head back. They danced together on the street corner and caught raindrops on their tongues. It was the perfect ending to a perfect night. She looked at Jax, laughing, but it died on her lips as he started to lean in, close enough to catch that sexy, raw scent of his. It didn’t grab her the way she thought it would. But she was probably just overanalyzing or judging too soon.

  Because
this was Folx—the man she’d been dying to kiss for so long. She closed her eyes, anticipating the moment when her lips would meet his for the first time.

  Instead, the play of blue and red lights on her closed lids caused her to open her eyes, finding Jax staring at the cop car that had pulled up to the curb.

  The officer was clearly not amused, or impressed with the cute romantic moment they were having. “You wouldn’t be Jax and Lacy, would you?”

  Her stomach dropped. Being picked up by the police was never a good sign. “Oh, no.” Was someone hurt? Was it Andy?

  “You’re not?” The cop narrowed his eyes.

  “No, I mean, yes. We are Jax and Lacy. I meant, oh, no what’s happened?”

  “Someone named Sammy is pretty pissed at you right now. Get in and I’ll take you to your hotel.”

  Lacy and Jax exchanged looks that were equally chagrined and terrified. Though relieved to know nothing bad had happened to anyone she cared about, Lacy knew Sammy had to be super worried to have called the cops. She pulled her phone out of her pants pocket—dead.

  Jax held up his own blacked-out device as well. “Oops.”

  She leaned her head onto his shoulder for the rest of the ride, but the moment of their near kiss had disappeared, washed away with the rain, if the moment had even really existed in the first place.

  * * *

  Eli stopped his pacing of the hotel lobby as soon as he saw the police car pull up. He waited until he saw both Jax and Lacy get out of the backseat before announcing, “They’re here.”

  Sammy jerked up from where she’d been half asleep on an armchair. Eli stood back out of the way as Sammy met the truants, one hand balled in a fist at her hip like a concerned mother.

  Well, not quite a mother—Sammy’s expression could never be called loving even though her heart might actually be made of gold.

  Jax, apparently, didn’t see any of the gold in Sammy. He stumbled toward her, obviously pissed as well as inebriated. “Do we suddenly have a curfew I don’t know about?”

  Sammy met his irritation without batting an eye. “If we have a problem with irresponsible band members, then maybe we’ll have to establish one. You didn’t answer your phones.”

  Jax took an aggressive step toward their roadie. “So you called the cops? I had no idea that a dead battery was a crime.”

  Lacy stepped up behind Jax as if aligning herself with him. Or like she was with him in general. It made Eli’s eye twitch.

  Sammy shrugged. “Hey, I only did the dialing. The order didn’t come from me. Though I agreed with it.”

  “Who then? Lou?” The look on Jax’s face said he was already ripping apart their manager in his mind. Probably firing him as well.

  Good thing for Lou it hadn’t been him who’d woken Sammy from a dead slumber and persuaded her to call 911.

  Sammy didn’t answer Jax. Instead, she looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with Eli.

  Jax followed her gaze, his eyes landing heavily on their destination. “Jesus, I should have guessed.” If he hadn’t been completely pissed before, he was now. “What the fuck, Eli?”

  Eli glanced over at the desk clerk who was watching the entire scene with rapt attention. “How about we not talk about this in the lobby?”

  Jax pointed an accusing finger at his friend. “How about you stay out of my fucking business?”

  “Jax.” Eli layered his voice with a warning he didn’t usually use with his lead singer. It seemed to work. Jax’s shoulders didn’t relax, but his chest seemed to deflate the tiniest bit.

  “I think you got this handled,” Sammy said, already shuffling back toward her room. “I’ll see y’all in the morning. Be up for breakfast.”

  Eli shifted his gaze to Lacy. She was still in the dress she’d performed in, the thin white material wet from the rain and nearly transparent. It clung to her long legs and outlined her breasts. His jeans suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. He needed her out of there, out of his sight.

  He moved his focus back to Jax. “Let’s get Lacy to her room, and then we can talk.”

  “What? Am I some child that can’t hear the grown-ups talk?” She crossed her arms over her chest, which did nothing to ease Eli’s arousal. If anything, her new posture made her sexier. Especially as she jutted her chin out and said, “This involves me too. Whatever reason you felt like you needed to play protective Dad, you can tell it to my face.”

  Eli opened his mouth to speak. Then he hesitated. It wasn’t exactly that he felt uncomfortable discussing his reasons with her, but he had a feeling Jax wouldn’t be so pretty in his end of the argument. She might have some sort of a “connection” with Jax, but he’d bet she didn’t know all of the ugly mess that had gone down last time.

  Jax seemed to agree the conversation should be private. “It’s got nothing to do with you, Lacypants. This is between me and fucktard here.” The look he gave Eli burned straight through his skin and into his blood. He was prepared for a fight.

  Fine. Just fine. Eli felt his own fight-or-flight instincts kick in. Usually he kowtowed. Not this time.

  Lacy seemed unconvinced. Her eyes darted from Jax to Eli and back to Jax. “Am I missing something I should know about? Does this have anything to do with the Groupie Clause?”

  Jax shook his head, a superficial smile flickering across his lips. “Nah. Nothing like that. It’s band stuff. I’ll walk you to your room.” Jax took Lacy’s hand and led her down the hall toward her room.

  Eli waited half a beat before following. Partly to calm himself down and partly because he didn’t want to watch Jax and Lacy say good night. It wasn’t his business, he told himself. Though he did feel somewhat gratified knowing that Jax wouldn’t be staying in Lacy’s room.

  He could still meet up with her later.

  Eli tried not to think about that possibility. He took another deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. Then he headed after the couple. He cringed internally at the idea of Jax and Lacy as a couple, but he wouldn’t let himself call them anything else. Even in his head, he had to get used to the idea that they could be together. Had to remember it had nothing to do with him. He’d given his blessing. He couldn’t take it back.

  Fortunately Eli dragged his feet long enough to only catch Lacy’s door shutting, leaving Jax in the hallway. The singer turned to face him. “My room.”

  Then Jax turned and walked three doors down the hall.

  Eli trudged after, biting his words until he was alone with Jax. Then he was sure to speak first. “Where the hell were you? I called and called—”

  Eli had been prepared for Jax to blow up. To yell like he usually did. Instead, he sat on the bed, leaned back on his elbows and cocked his head at Eli. “Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’? I called because I was trying to find you.” The irritation in Eli’s voice was thick, and he didn’t care that Jax heard it.

  “But why?” Again, Jax was nonchalant.

  And it was pissing Eli off. “Because you left. You disappeared without a word to anyone. You can’t do shit like that when you have a history. For all we—I knew you could be out trying to kill yourself like last time.”

  Admittedly, Eli may have only gone there because he wanted a rise out of Jax.

  It worked.

  Jax shot up from the bed, his face filled with rage. “First of all, that wasn’t last time. It was months ago. I’ve been out every single night of this tour and this is the first time you’ve given an ounce of shit.”

  “Great phrasing.”

  Jax ignored him. “Second of all, I never fucking tried to kill myself. How many times do I have to explain that to you before you get it through your thick skull?”

  Eli rolled his eyes. Over and over, he’d heard Jax’s excuse for the slits he’d put in his arms. It didn’t change how ridiculous it sounded. “Right, right, right. You were never suicidal. You were just a cutter. Doesn’t really change my impression of your mental health status.”

&nbs
p; “Not a cutter, man. It’s art! It’s a statement!”

  “A statement that you keep covered up. That sure speaks, doesn’t it?”

  “I keep it covered up because all of you are too dense to get it. I’m surrounded by ignorance.” Jax waved his hands around, demonstrating the extent of ignorance that surrounded him.

  “Yep. That’s it.” Eli couldn’t contain the sarcasm in his voice. “Surrounded by ignorance.”

  Jax looked as though he might hit something. But when he spoke, his words were calmer. Measured. “Don’t patronize me, Eli Frank. I see right through you.”

  Eli let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, you do. Tell me, what exactly do you see?” As if Jax saw anything. He was so self-absorbed, so lost in his own gut-crotch awareness that he never saw anything around him.

  But his friend surprised him. “Like, for instance, I see that you calling the cops tonight had nothing to do with me. It was who I was with.”

  Eli’s jaw twitched. “Bullshit.”

  “Not bullshit. You were worried about the chick.” Jax seemed even more convinced of his theory with each word. “You were worried about the chick being with me.”

  The statement felt like a punch to the gut. Which was weird. It wasn’t true. It hadn’t been the reason he’d been worried about Jax. Well, not the only reason.

  He shook his head a little too defensively. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Jax hooked each of his thumbs in a belt loop on his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “I hope for your sake that that’s true. Because I connected with Lacy tonight. She gets me in the way that none of you ever have. And I intend to spend more time with her. Whatcha gonna do about that? Call the goddamn cops?”

  Eli shrugged, but there was no confidence in it. “I don’t care. It’s not my business who you spend your time with. And if she’s fooled by your charm, well, that’s too bad.” Too bad. How many times had he said that in reference to Lacy’s infatuation with Jax? How many times had he said it about Lacy in general?

  How many more times would he have to say it before he was as disinterested as the words were meant to make him appear?