And a relief.
A huge relief.
But again, weird. Jax wasn’t the type to hang out with girls that he wasn’t sticking it to.
Jax let out a breath, the hair across his forehead bouncing up with the force. “Nah. Like I said, we’re evolving. Taking it slow.”
Just like that, the relief that Eli felt evaporated.
If Jax was taking it slow, it meant Lacy was special to him. Jax never committed to women like that. This was different. Which was good. For Lacy. Still hurt like a bitch. “Then you really do like her.”
Jax threw his hands up as he stood. “I barely even know her.” He took a step toward Eli and put a hand on his shoulder as if confiding in him. “Look, here’s the truth. She’s a sweet girl with an even sweeter rack. She doesn’t bug to hang out with. In fact, she’s a really good listener. She’s a good kisser too. To be honest, though, I was mostly interested in her in the first place simply because you liked her. When she showed interest in me I saw the opportunity to show you that you can’t get everything you want. Like you usually do.”
“What the—” There were way too many things for Eli to react to, that he didn’t know where to start. No, he knew where to start. He wanted Jax’s hand off him. Eli brushed out of his grip. Then he picked one of the myriad crazy comments to address. “I don’t get everything I want. That’s you. You’re the one who gets the girls and the attention. The one everyone concedes to.”
Jax stepped back to lean/sit on the arm of the chair he’d previously occupied. “I have to work for that shit, man. You get it naturally. Without even trying, the songs just come to you. And the ideas. All the talent. And I promise you, if I sat quiet in a room, all the girls would flock to you. Even Lacy. Because you’re the real art around here. You’re the real showpiece. You don’t have to worry about what you wear or practice a bunch of witty stories or need to slash your skin to feel like the real deal.”
Eli drew in a sharp breath. Was that why Jax had cut himself? Because he didn’t feel like he was really an artist? The idea spliced through him, a figurative knife cutting at his insides.
He started to say something, though he didn’t know what. Anything to make it better.
Except he hesitated too long and Jax went on. “But guess what. Despite all that? Lacy liked me. Liked me when I didn’t even try very hard, and that means enough for me to give her a shot. A shot at a night, anyway. Am I in love with her? No. Am I looking for a thing with her other than friendship? Yeah, I’m hoping for a chance to get in between her thighs, but that’s all. Apparently, Lacy Dawson isn’t the type to jump into bed with the first musician she meets, so it’s going to be the slow seduction with her.”
“Wait, wait, wait…” The sympathy Eli had felt only a moment before was smothered under the irritation surging through his veins, but before he acted on it, he’d be cool and get some clarification. “So you haven’t slept with her because she doesn’t want to?”
“She doesn’t want to yet.” Jax pointed his finger at the same time as he delivered his last word.
“Meanwhile you’re biding your time.” It wasn’t a question. It was a stalling statement—one that might give Eli enough time to cool down or perhaps redirect Jax into saying something that wasn’t quite so maddening.
Better yet, Eli knew he should use the time to figure out how to focus back on the remarks Jax had made earlier, the ones about not being talented. The ones about cutting himself for attention.
But then Jax said something else. “Yeah, since we’re on the road together, I figure hanging with her is something to kill the boredom.” Or, maybe even more maddening. “Don’t worry, I still have other girls. I’m not picking them up from the crowd anymore—that would particularly be poor taste in front of Lacypants—but I’m getting taken care of. In fact”—he looked at the time on his cell phone—“Chelle is meeting with me any minute now. You remember Chelle. From the last time we did Hartford?”
“Jax, you’re an asshole, you know that?” Also, he didn’t remember Chelle, but who could keep up with all the girls Jax had entertained on tours past? The war inside Eli had reached its Gettysburg. Friendship and past with Jax was battling empathy and future with Lacy, and the outcome would be essential.
“Dude, what is your deal? This isn’t anything new on my part. You got a thing for Lacy, don’t you? You said you didn’t, but you totally do.” Jax jabbed a finger into Eli’s arm. “Admit it.”
Eli took a step forward. “The thing I got for Lacy is called respect. Something you’ve got zero of for anyone including your bandmates. You walk all over everyone like our sole purpose is for your own convenience. Your own gain. Your own entertainment. Well, that’s bullshit. I’m better than that. Lacy’s better than that. This whole band is better than that. And I, for one, am done.”
Jax scratched at his chin as he studied Eli. “Ah, I get it. You’re pissed because I changed up ‘Bruises.’ You’re so damn precious about your songs. What’s with that? Don’t you know I’m the one who makes them? They’re nothing until I turn them into my own.”
Eli let out an exasperated chortle. “You’re delusional. You ruin those songs. Massacre them from what they’re meant to be. But right now, I couldn’t care less about what you do to my songs. What I care about is what you do to Lacy Dawson. She’s an amazing, wonderful woman who you’re charming simply so you can get in her pants? You deserve her less than you deserve my songs.”
He paused only long enough to make sure his next statement was a declaration—firm and nondebatable. “From now on, my songs are mine. You’ll never have another one to bastardize again. And as for Lacy, you keep your slimy hands off of her.”
“Your songs?” The shock evident in the woman’s tone behind him was only surpassed by Eli’s shock at her arrival.
He turned to face her, aware from the tension that radiated from her body and from the order of the things he’d said that she’d heard enough. Heard too much to go back to the lies and the pretending and the distancing. He looked into her horrified face, at her beautiful heartbroken eyes.
He knew his next words would be the door that opened everything.
And still he said them. “Hello, Love.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lacy’s head was spinning, whirling with the conversation she’d just overheard. She’d heard a great deal of it, including the part where Jax was simply biding his time until she welcomed him into her bed. But the part that had really stopped her—the part that made her heart stop beating for a full second, causing the blood to rush through her ears when it finally picked up again—was the inference that Jax didn’t write the Blue Hills songs. Those songs belonged to Eli.
Well, that was the part that had caught her until she was struck on the head with Eli’s greeting. He’d called her Love.
She felt Jax’s arm wrap around her waist. “Hey, baby doll,” he said after kissing her cheek. “Eli and I are just having a little band disagreement.”
“No.” She’d heard the conversation. He’d said he had other girls. Like a woman named Chelle. She pushed out of his arms. “No!”
“Listen, Lacypants, whatever you heard … well, it was taken out of context. Most likely. I never want you to infer I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”
Jax was speaking to her but she had her eyes glued to Eli. “What did you mean by your songs?”
Eli sighed, which was definitely not a helpful answer. Lacy crossed her arms over her chest and turned to the other one. “What does he mean, Jax? Do you not write the band’s songs?”
“You know how it is in a band. Lots of collaboration. They’re our songs.”
“Who writes the songs, Jax? Who?” It was a really roundabout way of finding out the answer to the question she really wanted cleared up. Who the hell is Folx? Somehow it was more comforting this way. Because if she just came out and asked that one … and then if she got the response that she was beginning to think she was going to get …
Jax turned her toward him, one of his hands resting on each of her upper arms. “Come on, Lace. Does it really matter to you who writes the songs? Don’t tell me you’re one of those chicks who groupies over the behind-the-scenes guy instead of the front man.”
Lacy stepped back and out of his grasp, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, my God.” She felt like she wanted to throw up. But sort of in a good way. Was that possible?
Jax continued to defend himself. “Plus, I contribute. They aren’t all his words and notes. I’m the one who makes them hits. Me. Their soul—that’s me. I give them the—”
His hand moved in front of him, but Lacy put up her own to stop him. “Please, don’t. Not the gut/crotch clutch again. That’s not a Thing, Jax!” Suddenly all of Jax’s egotistical behavior was magnified in her mind. She’d put up with it simply because she knew who he was underneath, but now she was finding out she didn’t really know who he was underneath at all.
And it wasn’t really the revelations about who Jax was or wasn’t that had her stomach flip-flopping like a fish out of water, but what they meant about Eli. She needed one more confirmation. “Just tell me this, Jax—did you cut the chorus of ‘Godric’s Hollow’?”
His proud smile gave him away before he even spoke. “Yeah. I added the audience participation part. Brilliant, right?”
“Oh, my God.” Again, she covered her mouth. This time she didn’t want to throw up so much as squeal. Really a happy sort of squeal, though there would have been some other complex emotions jumbled in as well and she had a feeling she would have sounded more like a dying pig, and that wasn’t what she was going for.
She turned her attention to Eli—the man she should have been looking toward all along. “It’s you.”
Eli’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “It’s me.”
Wow, it was … she was … wow.
Weeks of frustration melted off her like the sunlight finally hitting a patch of winter ice. She’d been trying so hard to make things work with Jax. But the more time she spent with him, the more she missed her online dates.
And Eli …
Oh, how she’d missed Eli. His touch, his smile. His eyes, the way they raked her body as if he were already undressing her. Mostly, though, she missed the way he made her feel about herself. He made her seem important and interesting and the main show, where with Jax she was always only an opening act, a curtain jerker.
But Eli was Folx and everything made sense and none of the rest mattered because she didn’t have to deny the feelings she had about him anymore. Talk about a Plot Twist.
Except, wait … everything didn’t make sense.
Like, why did Eli look so guilty? And why wasn’t he as surprised by the revelation as she was?
She felt a punch to the chest as she realized why. “And you knew. All this time?”
Behind her, Lacy vaguely registered a female voice. “Hey, Jax. I’ve been waiting for you for almost ten minutes.”
And then Jax’s greeting. “Chelle. Glad you found me, babe.”
But Lacy didn’t turn her head. Her focus was pinned on Eli.
He kept his gaze on her as well. His head shook slightly. “Not all this time.”
“Look, you two seem to be having a happy enough chat without me.”
Jax seemed to be talking to her and Eli now, but she refused to acknowledge anything but the man in front of her who said, “I’ve only known for the last couple of weeks.”
“And since I have other plans that start, like, right now. I’ll just be going.”
Seriously, Lacy wished Jax would stop talking. It took energy to block him, and she was beginning to realize she needed all her energy for her conversation with Eli. “Like since when exactly? Before you broke up with me online?”
“If you don’t mind, man. Gir—woman. People. Peeps.” Jax’s voice droned on like a fly buzzing in the room, distracting and irritating as it tried to steal the attention. “Eli…? Lacy…?”
“Go!” Lacy said in unison with Eli.
“Awesome. Catch you two later.” There was relief evident in Jax’s voice as he shot out of the green room with his guest. As if he’d been let off the hook, and for half a second Lacy wondered if she should feel hurt by that.
But there wasn’t any room for that offense in her well of emotions. She was too hurt at the moment from Eli’s disclosure. Or Eli’s potential disclosure because he hadn’t said it yet, but she felt the truth in her bones like she could feel the change of weather from fall to winter.
Still, she pressed on, needing to hear it verbalized. “Before you broke up with me online, Eli?”
His shoulders fell and his eyes lowered. “Yes. I figured it out earlier that day. That morning.”
She wanted to ask him how. It was a fairly interesting question and her mouth opened to ask it, but no sound came out. Her mind was already past that, already at the what-he-did-with-the-information-when-he figured-it-out part. She didn’t have to try to remember the details of that day—they were cut into her memory like etched glass. He’d come to her room to apologize. Then they’d made love. Not had tour-sex. Made love. And then he’d ended things both in real life and online.
He’d figured out who she was and then he’d broken off all intimacy.
Which meant … “Oh, God.” She swallowed, hard, but she couldn’t swallow hard enough to push down the truth—Lacy Dawson didn’t live up to LoveCoda so Eli cut his losses while he could.
“I’m such a fool.” Such a ridiculous fool. Tears were springing at her eyes, and the pain in her chest wrenched and twisted. She didn’t know she was still capable of this much heartache. She thought living through the worst would make her capable of living through everything else. It turned out that “worst” was a category, not an absolute.
Lacy needed space. Needed air. Needed to be anywhere but where she was right then.
She turned and left.
“Lacy…”
She heard Eli call after her, but she couldn’t acknowledge him. How could she? She was utterly humiliated. Instead, she kept walking down the hall looking for the door to the parking lot. She’d come in this way only a few minutes before with Lou. He’d come over from the hotel to check on the guys at The Night Owl, the venue for the night, and she’d tagged along, hoping to catch a snippet of their rehearsal. While the manager talked with the band, she’d gone looking for the bathroom. Thankfully she’d found it before she’d overheard the loud voices coming from the green room, because she really couldn’t have held it this long and there was no way she was looking for anything but the way out now.
The first knob she turned, however, led her not outside but to an office. And spread out across the desk in an intimate—and rather awkward—position were Jax and Chelle. Damn, they were fast.
They paused their foreplay to glance at their intruder.
“Seriously?” Lacy slammed the door shut before either of them could respond. Not that one, then this one. She turned the next knob and this time was met with sunshine. Thank God.
Lacy bent, her hands clutching her thighs for support as she took in large gulps of air. Her mind was dizzy with the revelations. There had been a moment earlier, when she’d realized that Eli was really FolxNotDead27, where she’d felt relief. Elation even. No more pretending that she and Jax would ever have more than an occasional passing in the drunken night. No more fighting what she wanted to freely shout out to the world—her love for Eli.
But that moment had scurried out faster than it came, and the joy that had flooded through her still lingered under the horrid layer of betrayal.
She heard the door swing open behind her alerting her to his presence long seconds before he spoke. It didn’t do any good to run. Where would she go? Besides, she couldn’t hide from horrible feelings anymore. She’d learned that from hiding from Lance.
It didn’t mean she had to turn and face him, though. So she didn’t.
Long seconds passed before he spoke. “Look, I know what you’re thinking…” His voice trailed off, then she could swear she heard his head shaking. “Actually, I don’t know what you’re thinking. But I know none of this looks like what it really is.”
Grief and rage balanced for a moment, and then rage tipped the scales. She couldn’t help herself—she spun toward him. “And what is it really, Eli? Because let me tell you what it looks like. Like when you found out that I was really LoveCoda, you were disappointed. The girl you were holding out for really wasn’t all that special in real life and so you found a way to kill two birds with one stone and ended it with both me and her.” She crinkled her brow as she reevaluated her last words. “Me and me, I mean.” Dang if two identities wasn’t the most confusing thing ever.
Eli scratched at the back of his neck, and it gave Lacy a small bit of satisfaction to see that his expression seemed lost and desperate.
His jaw worked and his eyes grew dark. “I fell in love with you, Lacy.”
A ball formed in her throat. Man, he did know how to get to her. She wanted to fall into his words, fall into his arms, but so much left unsaid held her back. And even when the words were said, she had to remember that he was a natural poet. A professional liar, like all writers.
Her guard remained up. “Yeah, sounds pretty plausible.”
In contrast, Eli’s hands fell to his side, leaving him open and vulnerable. “I did. I fell completely. I love music, you know that, and you make me feel like there’s music everywhere. In crab shacks and blanket forts. And I’m not talking about the sound, but the feeling. Possibility hiding behind every moment. The feeling that music gives me—you give me that. You’re my songbird.”
Lacy’s heart squeezed in a way that was simultaneously painful and paradise at once. The ball in her throat thickened. There were things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t get them out if she tried. It was like all the months of writer’s block had swum back up to strangle her.
Which was fine, it seemed, because Eli had more to say himself. “But I had a commitment to LoveCoda—to you—and when I realized … God, Lacy, when I realized you were her … I was thrilled. Ecstatic. Over the moon. It was the best moment of my life and I’m not even being a little bit dramatic about that.”
Love Struck Page 25
