High Risk Love

by Shannon Mayer

  I bounced on the bed a little to wake her up. “What does that have to do with her selling the house?”

  “Oh, well, she’s off to sing professional-like. Gone to Hollywood, took her little friend with her. I hope she don’t get eaten up by the sharks there. Not a place for naive girls to be on their own.” She squeezed my thigh.

  I stood up fast and the mattress bobbed, sending the old agent tumbling to one side with a merry cackle. “Lad, if you want to be tumbling me to get a better deal I’ll tell you now it won’t work, though you’d be welcome to try.” She righted herself and gave me a wink. “Ah, don’t look so scared, I’m kidding you.”

  “Thanks for the tour. If you get any serious offers on the house, please call me. I’m interested. I just have a few others to look at.” The words spilled out of me as fast as I could get them to go. Panic settled in on me.

  Hollywood. Jasmin was in Hollywood?

  15

  Jasmin

  Hugh scooped me up into a bear hug, much to Lily’s amusement.

  “What the hell, woman!” He roared, bouncing me around like a rag doll.

  “Hugh,” I gasped in between bounces. “You’re going to give me whiplash, put me down!”

  Lily rolled her eyes as he put me on the ground, and did a double take for her. “Well, at least I know you have beautiful friends.”

  “Yes, Hugh. This is Lily. Try not to scare her, will you?”

  He shook her hand and she smiled at him, but pointedly looked away after a second. No surprise there.

  Sheer luck and timing was all I could chalk up to Hugh crossing our path. There was no way he’d have known I was here. Within minutes of me and Lily going into the bar, Hugh had spotted me, his eyes flying open so wide I thought they might actually fall out of his head.

  “What are you doing here, are you here to see Jet? Maybe doing some naked making up?”

  Lily grimaced and answered for me. “They most certainly are not. He’s an asshole, and she doesn’t date assholes. And for the record, neither do I.”

  “Lily.” I touched her arm. “Would you go get me a couple bottles of water?”

  She gave a sniff and spun on her heel toward the bar.

  Hugh watched her go. “She’s a bit hot in the panties, isn’t she?”

  “Sorry about that.”

  He put a hand on the table we’d been sitting at. “What happened?”

  I gave him the quick and dirty version. “Jet slept with Tina and then yelled at me because he thought I’d told someone a secret he’d shared with me. I didn’t, but he assumed I had. Then he beat the hell out of Reggie, knocked him out cold. The end.”

  “I’d heard about him fighting with Reggie, didn’t know it was with you there. But . . . he slept with Tina, are you sure?” His face contorted like he’d gotten a lemon wedged in the back of his throat. “Shit, you must have scared him good.”

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything.”

  Hugh gave me a soft smile and covered my hand with his. “That’s just it. You didn’t want anything from him, did you?”

  I frowned, thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “Listen, do me a huge favor—ginormous, biggest favor in the world. I will owe you beyond owing you.” He batted his eyes at me.

  I let out a sigh. “What?”

  “When he shows up, and begs you to give him another chance. At least talk to him.”

  The DJ for the night was at the microphone, and I licked my lips, nerves squirreling through my body. “No, I don’t think so, even if I thought it would happen. He scared me, Hugh. It was like he was a different person, not the Jet I knew. How could he beat Reggie up like that, without holding back even a little? He’s his mentor, someone I thought he respected. ”

  “Listen, that’s all water under the bridge, they’ll work it out if they haven’t already. I’ve never seen him lose it that bad over someone before, and sure as hell not a girl. Ever. He’s always held himself together, but with you, it’s like he can’t help himself.”

  I didn’t want to hear this. “If you talk to him” —I leaned toward him and touched his ear, giving it a light twist— “you don’t say a word to him about running into me. Got it?”

  He held three fingers to his head, but his eyes were sad. “Scouts honor.”

  And then I was moving toward the microphone, guitar in hand. I’d called every contact Ryan had in his book, and they’d all said the same thing. If I wanted to crack into the business, a good place to be was at the Twice Bitten Bar’s open mic night. Open to any and all singers, and if you could get in and get on the stage, you had a chance. From what Ryan’s contacts told me, the bartender had the numbers of several music producers and if anyone showed any talent, he called them up and they’d come listen. But only if you were good. I swallowed hard, pushed the nausea back.

  This was it.

  Lily ran up to me and handed me a bottle of water. “You can do this. Just sing for Ryan.”

  I got up on the stage, sat down in front of the microphone and waited as the music came on. I didn’t sing for Ryan though; I sang for myself.

  The music was everything in that moment and it stole my hurt, hid my fears, even as it opened me up and left me raw. Everything I had, everything I was, I poured into the song until there was nothing left to give. The last note, pitched low and keening, left my mouth and I held it, long past the music ending.

  Head bowed, I waited for the audience to react. Silence curled around me and I brought my head up, afraid of what I would see.

  No one moved; no one seemed to breathe. Had it been that bad, or that good?

  I moved to get off the stage—I was banking on it being that bad—when the first person started to clap, then in a rush the entire bar exploded into cheering and whistling, and I was pushed back onto the stage for an encore.

  Grinning, I took the microphone and sang one of Ryan’s songs a cappella, a song he’d written as he laid in a hospital bed, dying. He’d written it for himself, but it was mine too, the story the same. The fear of death, the fear of loss, everything I knew in my life.

  Death comes for us all

  In tiny little drops, stealing us away

  Cell by cell, breath by breath

  From the dreams of life as they fade

  We fight, we scream, we pray for respite

  But death comes for us all

  Stealing life, stealing life

  Only one thing remains, the spark

  A piercing star in the darkness

  Bringing us home to a place where our hearts

  Beat faster, cleaner, purer, the strength of passion

  A dream.

  A hope.

  A love that holds us, embraced in the belief for a moment

  That death does not come for us all.

  In tiny little drops, stealing us away

  Cell by cell, breath by breath

  From the dreams of life as they sing our dreams

  We laugh, we love, we pray

  Death does not come for us all

  Again, silence reigned for heartbeats after I finished, and again I was kept on the stage, much to the disgruntlement of the next person in line.

  The night wore on, and I covered popular songs, old songs, Ryan’s songs. Ryan’s songs evoked the emotion from the crowd, and more than once, I saw people wiping their eyes. Finally, I begged off and was allowed a break. Lily rushed me, grabbing my hands, jumping around me, squealing like a teenager at her first concert.

  “Oh. My. God. You were AMAZING!”

  Laughing, I tugged her toward our table, my legs wobbly like I’d been drinking tequila again. “I need to get some more water, Lily.”

  “I’ll get it for you.” Jet’s voice curled around me and I spun, staring up into his golden eyes, and for a moment it was like we’d never fought.

  Lily tugged at my hand. “You know this guy?”

  I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice, which should have be
en easy, but wasn’t. “This is Jet Sterling.”

  “This is who?” Lily asked, her tone telling me she’d heard me just fine.

  Jet’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “Nice to meet you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Jazzy.”

  Lily erupted. “Don’t you ever call her that, you asshole! You lying, cheating, piece of shit!”

  “Lily, stop,” I said. “Go sit with Hugh. I’ll be fine.”

  She jerked herself out of my hands. “I will not. You come home from Mexico a complete and utter wreck after just a few days with this douche bag—”

  Jet’s lips twitched and I frowned at him. Not the time to be the funny guy.

  Lily went on, oblivious to our exchange. “And if you think for one minute I’m going to let him break your heart again, you’ve got another thing coming.”

  A huff of air puffed out of her as she crossed her arms over her chest. Hugh came up from behind her, scooped her into the air and carried her screeching back to our table. I wasn’t worried; I knew Hugh wouldn’t do anything he shouldn’t. Or at least, I hoped he wouldn’t. Lily would kill him if he tried anything.

  “What do you want, Jet? And how the hell did you find me?” I glared at Hugh, who shook his head. Not that it mattered. Jet had made himself very clear on how he felt about me, abundantly so.

  He took me by the arm and guided me out the back door into a well-lit, clean alley.

  His hands were tucked into his jean pockets, and he kept his eyes downcast. “I didn’t know you were here; I came to meet up with Hugh.”

  See, he wasn’t looking for you at all. This was an accident. Not planned.

  “Did you and Reggie make up?”

  “Yeah, we did. He . . . he forgave me.” He looked above my head, as if searching for a script to read from on the wall behind me.

  “I’m sorry I cost you your job. And your brother’s car, shit . . . .” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  I shrugged. “Me losing my job wasn’t your fault. I probably wouldn’t have lost it if I hadn’t punched Paul in the nose.”

  His eyes snapped up to mine and then went grim with what I could only identify as jealousy, and a shiver of fear went through me, remembering all too clearly his fist slamming into Reggie

  “Who the hell is Paul?”

  A flutter low in my belly made me want to cross my legs. From a single, hot possessive look that should have only added to my fear. I had to keep this situation under control; I couldn’t let him get the upper hand.

  “Remember the high school kid following you around? He was a competitor for my position. He’d taken” —I swallowed hard, fought the heat blooming up my neck— “pictures of us together. Evidence to prove I had slept with you.”

  “And you punched him?”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, and he still didn’t get the job.” We shared a laugh, but the sound died out fast, leaving us standing with so much between us it was hard to move.

  “I’ve been looking for you. I went to your house,” he said, lifting his eyes slowly.

  “My house?”

  “Your real estate agent gave me a tour and made a pass at me.” There was a spark in those eyes, and I fought the urge to fall under his spell again. So easy, it would be so easy.

  “Greta, my seventy-five year old real estate agent made a pass at you?”

  He gave me his full on panty-twisting grin, the one I thought he reserved for me, but likely spread amongst all the women he met. “I turned her down.”

  My stomach sank like a stone as I remembered, and as it fell, my anger rose. “Right. You prefer red heads. I keep forgetting that.”

  I moved as if to brush past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me against him, using his body to pin me against the building.

  “I didn’t sleep with Tina. I was going to, but I drank too much fucking tequila. I ate the goddamn worm at the bottom of the bottle; that’s about all I remember from that night.” He grimaced as if in remembrance. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just . . . I got scared and I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle us. You don’t fall for someone in a matter of days, it isn’t normal.”

  I responded quickly, talking over him before he’d even finished speaking. “Jet, it doesn’t matter if you slept with her or not; you don’t owe me any explanations. We weren’t dating.” Then the rest of his words caught up with me. “Falling for someone?”

  He pressed his forehead against mine. “Spitfire, you have no idea what you’ve done to me. Please, I can make this right.” He smoothed his hands along my arms, laced his fingers with mine.

  He was falling for me? The words glued themselves to the inside of my brain and I couldn’t un-see them.

  The door beside us burst outward and Lily stood there, eyes lit up with a fire I’d only seen on her once before, when my first steady boyfriend slept with me and then broke up with me the next day. “I told you to leave her alone!”

  She pushed herself between us, her finger in Jet’s face. “Don’t you get it? You hurt her, and I don’t let anyone hurt her.”

  I let her grab my arm and pull me away, in part because I wasn’t sure I could walk away on my own. The feel of his body against mine had been too familiar, too easy to just let happen. His words were already making me question if I could try again with him. Now there was no job in the way, no real reason to stay away from him. Except that he’d hurt me, yelled at me, called me untrustworthy, beaten a man for putting his hands on me. I clung to those thoughts, hoping they would make it easier to walk away.

  Hugh stumbled out the same door Lily had just come through, his entire body soaked. But, as always, he was laughing. “Shit, her girl just dumped a pitcher of beer on me!”

  “Hugh, can you give us a few more minutes?” Jet asked, looking flustered. Despite everything, I couldn’t walk away from him looking like that.

  I tugged at Lily. “Hey. Stop. Lily, stop.”

  She turned to me, tears tracking down her cheeks. I knew why. Her past was so full of hurt and betrayal, more than any one person should ever have to bear.

  “Lily, it’s okay. I can take care of this on my own. Trust me.”

  With that, she let my arm go. “I’ll be inside.” She wiped her face and stomped past Hugh, giving him an elbow in the gut as she did. He gave me a wink.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “Thanks.”

  The door closed behind them, and again it was me and Jet, alone.

  “So, that was awkward.” I fiddled with the edge of my shirt. “Listen, I don’t begrudge you anything. I just wish I’d listened to everyone else. I get it now; I was a game to you. A challenge.”

  He was shaking his head, and closing the distance between us. I held my ground; I wasn’t afraid of him. The image of him standing over Reggie, holding him tight so he could punch him sliced through me, and I took a half step back. Maybe that wasn’t entirely honest.

  Jet held a hand out to me, a flicker of shock in his eyes. “Are you . . . afraid of me?”

  I licked my lips. “A little, yes. You beat the crap out of your mentor and he was trying to help me. How do I know you won’t lose it on me? I’m not sure I ever really knew you, Jet.”

  He dipped his head, and put a hand to the wall. “I would never, never hit you, Jasmin. You have to believe that.”

  Whether or not it was a mistake, I didn’t know. I moved to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, felt the tension in his bunched up muscles. “I don’t think you would have. But seeing you flip out was scary, it was like you were another person. You scared me.”

  His eyes peered down at me, and then he slid his one arm around me and pulled me to him. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, arms tightening around me. I laid my cheek against his chest, closed my eyes and stroked his back.

  “Jasmin,” he said, his lips moving against the skin on my neck, sending a line of fire right to my core. “Tell me to leave you alone, and I will. But I need to hear you say it, if
that’s what you want.”

  Fear rolled through me, a wave of anxiety so intense I squeezed my eyes shut to block everything else out. I knew that I could never be his girl; we could never make it that way. We were too different. But I also knew that he had become important to me in those days, and I wasn’t sure I could live with not ever seeing him again. “I can’t.”

  The tension in him left in a whoosh of air. “You’ll let me try to make it up—”

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, either. What you want out of life is so different than me.” I pulled back so I could look at him and almost forgot what I was supposed to be saying. His lips hovered over mine.

  “So you’re telling me to go?” He lowered his voice, a bare whisper that tugged at my heart.

  “No. I can’t be what you want. But I don’t want to not ever see you again.”

  His eyes closed. “Is this the ‘let’s be friends’ talk?”

  “I guess so.” I didn’t try to pull away. He smelled, felt, and sounded so good. Too good.

  “Then why aren’t you pushing me away?” His eyes bored into mine, dilated until there was only a rim of gold around the black of his iris. Desire, hot and thick, shot through me; Jet’s hands were at my waist, slipping underneath my shirt to touch the skin trembling there.

  “That isn’t fair. You can’t use the fact that I’m horny against me,” I said.

  His lips twitched. “I make you horny?”

  Oh my god, how had I let that slip out? I closed my eyes and shook my head. He pressed his lips against mine, but didn’t kiss me.

  “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispered; his tongue slid along my lips, and I couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped out of me. This was such a bad idea . . . .

  “What promise?” I opened my eyes, lids fluttering as I stared up at him.

  “One kiss. If you can tell me to go, that we can be friends after one kiss, I’ll do it.”

  I wanted this, so badly, and I knew one kiss wouldn’t be enough. Would never be enough.

  His fingers trailed along my ribs, sliding to touch the edge of my bra, slipping in just along the band and then dipping back lower to touch the edge of my jeans, dipping below to tug on the top line of my panties.