Zenith's Promise (The Zenith Series Book 7)

by Leanne Davis

  “Don’t you want me to? Sex is over. I’m too sore for anymore… so what do you prefer that I do? Cuddle you in bed?” She snorted.

  He snorted.

  She wished he would put his hand out and say yeah or even maybe.

  Then what? Would she put her hand in his and say okay? Or maybe? Then why was she so angry? She could not be angry at him for acting and being exactly as he said he was and for expecting her to be the same because she said she would. What was going on with her? This was why she had to leave now. The small bit of reluctance she felt was because maybe, he didn’t want her to leave. What if that were the case?

  But no. He didn’t put his hand out or say anything. He just flopped back on the bed. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll see you.”

  She started to go but stopped and asked, “Will it be weird? Or what?”

  “No. We knew what this was and is. We’re both fine with it, right?”

  “Right,” she replied. But her answer felt as hollow as a tunnel. No. It was not at all right. Although she couldn’t risk saying it. Not with him.

  Chapter 7

  SEVERAL WEEKS PASSED BEFORE Jody saw Ross again. She spoke to him a few times and the conversations were all one-sided and hollow. Little bits of information and exchanges that left her feeling frustrated because they were unspoken. Unfulfilled. But what did she expect? Another night with Ross? Sure. The sex was mind-blowing. She deserved every bit of it. But what about all the feelings that plagued her since then? They were incessant and disturbing.

  Ross was very unpredictable as a lover and Jody found it hard to realize she could be so wrong about someone.

  But his personality… eh. She didn’t miss a single detail about his true self and she was fully aware of all of his faults. So there was nothing there for her. Nothing. Nada. Nope.

  But once in a while, Ross let her have a glimpse of his vulnerability, which she found intriguing. That’s when he tugged at her heartstrings.

  Like when he was kidding around about sex.

  But no.

  They both were drinking heavily and into each other. It was nothing more or less than that. There was no room for regret as that would have given it more weight than it deserved. It was hot and orgasmic, which she was glad for.

  Eventually, Ross called her. Jody was surprised when she recognized his number calling since he was not just texting, and she answered, “Hey.” She instantly spoke softer and slower than usual, and hated her automatic reversion to female softness around him.

  “Hey.”

  She waited and he cleared his throat. Was he feeling unsure with her? “What’s up?”

  “Did you hear that Zenith is playing at some convention center in Everett?”

  “Oh, yeah, I know where and it’s decently sized. Not like a crowd of twenty thousand but still plenty big.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate. Wait. He was playing with Zenith now for his first time. Was he reaching out to her because his nerves were a little ragged? Ross? Maybe. But as usual, he was too unsure of himself to voice his true reason for calling.

  “How many people have you played for before?”

  “Five.”

  She smiled and covered her mouth to muffle the snort of surprise at hearing that. She regained her composure.

  “Is there some kind of a contractual problem or anything?”

  “No.”

  No. Nothing else. Her heart lifted. She was sure he was reaching out to her but not as his musical liaison. Something he hadn’t done since their momentous night of sex.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He reminded Jody of a teenager, who was definitely nervous but unwilling to voice it. She didn’t mind if he needed her to dig out what bothered him. Sigh. She annoyed herself because she was becoming that girl. At least, to him she was. Was it better to know it and continue to do it than to do it without realizing it?

  Another chicken and egg kind of question.

  “Want to come over?”

  She almost bit her tongue as soon as she asked him. It was Friday night. She intended to go out with her friends. But she’d gladly cancel that date for him. For a guy. Some fucking guy. She hated it when her friends did that to her. And now here she was, being that girl for this guy? No. But… sigh, she was.

  “I don’t know,” he grunted in a surly manner.

  “Ross? Why did you call me? You know I won’t pussyfoot around your crabby answers. Yes or no? Otherwise, just go away.”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled at the phone. “Why do you have to make things so difficult?”

  “I wasn’t sure I should call.”

  “And yet you did.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your tongue has explored the inside of my body. Calling me is a critical decision now? Not so shocking or out of line considering the things we’ve done to each other,” she reminded him, although her tone was gentler than she usually used.

  He laughed out loud. “You’re right. As always. I wasn’t sure how to proceed.”

  “You said when I left that we would be fine.”

  “I guess I lied. I don’t usually see the women I sleep with again unless they come into the bar where I worked. I never slept with someone I’m working with or whatever in a friendly way.”

  “Yes, we’ve clearly established your lack of manners. Okay, calling me is fine. Now go ahead and come over. I’ll text you my address. Karlee just moved out last week, so I’m living all alone now.” That sent her off the deep end emotionally. Jody felt unreasonably lonely and sad when the end of an era finally arrived. She missed her best friend and cousin. Karlee was moving on to the next phase of her life, and eventually, at some point Jody would have to go there too.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  He hung up and she had a date. Jody sent a text to her friends saying she had to bow out, because she had bad cramps. So lame. She despised herself for using such a tired cliché but she still did it.

  What was Ross really doing? Calling a chick to make him feel better? Showing everyone what a nervous, little pussy he was? But Jody wasn’t just a chick. She was not like anything or anyone else he knew. She was awesome. The whole enchilada. She’d probably hit him for making that reference and he liked knowing that. She was so different from all the women he met before.

  Ross felt weirder during the last few weeks. Seattle was every bit as overwhelming and strange as when he arrived. So big and vast, he felt empty, unsure and unconfident. He preferred to spend his time out in the country at Rob’s studio. But there were many days when they didn’t practice. Weekends were almost always excluded so Rob and Spencer could engage with their respective families. Definitely what they advertised. Being older now, middle-aged, they were there strictly to make music, to play and record, without the deadlines and pressure of tours and concerts.

  After a press release to introduce Ross Karahan, they explained Ross was taking over for Jaxon temporarily while he attended to a family matter. Ross had some headshots taken, which Jody arranged and Ross detested every moment of it. Jody handled all the details so Ross only had to show up at the photography studio. But Ross missed Jody and liked it better when she took him wherever he had to go. He squashed that dream. No. Nope. They weren’t like that and would never become like that.

  Rob arranged a small concert at the nearest arena to his home, one that was large enough to host his fans. It was something he did periodically. The venue they chose bent over backwards to work with Zenith and their people, eager to draw the crowds, attention and mostly, the revenue the band never failed to bring in.

  Ross had to perform for others now. It was almost ridiculous for him to be playing in Zenith as their drummer when he never performed before, not even at a high school talent show, or the bar he worked in. He never played drums live. The largest crowd that heard him play was on the day he auditioned for Zenith, when Jody, Xavier, Spencer, Rob and one of the bodyguards heard him.
The only one who made him nervous while witnessing his performance then was Jody. Even then, he felt a tug towards her that he couldn’t ignore.

  He’d become far too reliant and dependent on her. She was the only contact he had in the area. She became his guide, coach, champion and leader. The closest thing he had to a friend. So when she stopped checking in and being around or available, he was bored and despised the quiet. He lived that way at home, sure, but that was home. This was very different. He might as well have been living on a new planet for how different Seattle felt to him.

  Oh, how his nerves overwhelmed him whenever the reality of doing a live, real concert and playing on stage with all the freaking fans sprawled out before them flashed through his mind. It would be loud and chaotic with all eyes fastened on him. Despite being in the back, behind the drum set, wedged between the bass and rhythm guitar, he still had to be on stage. His rhythm would reverberate in the huge room. Was that the word for it? Not a stadium, but far larger than an ordinary room. The stress to get it right nagged at him more than he ever imagined. They rehearsed often and practiced hard to catch Ross up on Zenith’s catalogue of music. And it was extensive. Endless in Ross’s mind. Now he knew why they chose certain songs for this venue. Ross clearly recalled the day Rob smiled at him, nodding with confidence as he said, “I believe you’re ready.”

  “For?” Ross queried.

  “For a concert. What about next month?”

  “Next month? Yeah. Sure. Awesome.”

  Stage fright streamed through Ross like water. It was unlike anything he ever felt flowing through him, and nearly freezing him in his tracks. Luckily, they were done for that day. Rob promised to give him more details and wasn’t that awesome? When they talked and joked about it, Ross pretended to be giddy about it. What member of a major rock band didn’t want to perform? That was the whole point. The whole problem. It should have fueled his creativity, and sustained him. Like an artist being displayed in a downtown city, or a sculptor unveiling a revered subject in a public park, or an author getting published. People didn’t paint, sculpt, or write to keep the end product to themselves. They intended to share it. That was the whole point.

  Except, Ross didn’t want to share himself. He just wanted to play all day. So he could learn to be the best. He could give a crap if anyone else thought he was. He hadn’t learned how to deal with compliments, fans, and praise. He grew uncomfortable and stone-walled the outside world, becoming silent. He had to struggle to mitigate their expectations because he found it so hard to believe himself.

  Yet avoiding any performance rendered him useless to Zenith. He filled a spot, a role and this was part of the commitment. Why was it so difficult for him to imagine now?

  Stewing at home for hours, the nagging, needy weakness that was gnawing at him made him call Jody. For what? What did he expect her to do? What could she do? She wasn’t involved with scheduling Zenith. She wasn’t a counselor of stage fright. She had no more insight to the problem than he did. He, in fact, felt like he was way over his head, but still he called her.

  Now, as he stood outside her condo door on the top floor, he thought Good God, what was he doing with a woman like this? In a city like this? In a fucking band? Performing with Zenith. The surreal aspect of the opportunity hadn’t sunk in yet.

  But there he stood. Hands in his pockets, feeling completely nervous. Again, this was something he never experienced because he never cared about anything or anyone before. It was getting pretty exhausting.

  He knocked on the door and Jody answered moments later. His gaze devoured her startlingly short figure. He had to bend down to see her. Yet any time he spent in her physical presence instantly made him forget she was so short. Her personality was full, not so much overwhelming as it was engaging. She was impossible to look away from. He always wanted more.

  She stood there with eyes as weary as he felt. “So what do we do now? Kiss? Shake hands? Or fist-bump?” she asked and her smile lingered at fist-bump… Yeah, that brought back all the intense, visceral images. And a good laugh. That’s why he liked her so much. Damn it.

  “Fist-bumps worked in the past.” There. The tension left her shoulders and his. She opened the door wider.

  “Ha. But I’m not drunk tonight. I won’t be half as easy.”

  He entered her penthouse and took in the entire place. “You were drunk?”

  “I was tipsy. But coming down by the time we got to your place, so I could blame it all on the alcohol. But it sounds better than saying I get around, huh?”

  “Do you?” he asked without knowing why it bothered him. He was ready to start ducking in case she hit him for asking a question that legitimately wasn’t his damn business.

  “I used to. But nothing since you and I got together.” She smiled easily, not mad that he asked her such a personal question. “You?”

  “Not since then.”

  “In general. Do you get around?”

  “At home. Not here. Kind of came with my former job. Lots of lonely women, sad or broken up, drinking alone or whatever and I got propositioned.”

  “So drunken girls are your thing?”

  He followed her further inside, taking in the sheer size and vastness of the space. High windows, towering views of the pier and Elliot Bay, lights of ferries and other vessels and buildings ringing the wharf. Seeing Seattle like this, he might learn to love it too.

  “That sounds pretty awful.”

  “Yes. It does. See why you shouldn’t do that? Sounds almost predatory. But maybe you won’t have to go back there. Not after Zenith.”

  His stomach hollowed at the thought and the hope, before he squashed it flat. No. Nah. Nothing to count on.

  “This place…”

  “Yes. My parents own the building.” She shrugged. “Makes life a lot easier.”

  So guileless in her acceptance of wealth but not clueless about it either. It would have been too obvious if she were because she had limitless finances.

  “Want something to eat? I could make…” She wandered to her refrigerator and opened it. “Well, since Karlee moved out, the cooking skills in this kitchen have plummeted to an all-time low. But I know how to make pasta ravioli. What do you say to that?”

  His stomach growled. “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  She got out pots and filled one with water. Pulling out a can of sauce, she set the pot of water on the stove top.

  “Sit.” She motioned toward the chrome bar stools at the island. He sat while watching her move about. She set out plates and pulled out some salad makings. “Do you eat the green stuff?”

  “Never. But I can.”

  “Wine?”

  “Never. But I can’t.”

  Her slight smile was enough to satisfy his clever answer. “Ha-ha. Beer then?”

  “Still less of a favorite. Water’s fine.”

  “Really? I assumed you…”

  “Came from a small town so I must drink beer? No, I only drink whiskey.”

  “Oh, a fancy drunk, huh?”

  He winced. “Not a drunk. About that, I’m clearly not.”

  She stopped and looked at him. “I’m sorry I said that. I had no right.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Considering what I’ve told you, not a stretch to assume I would be.”

  “But you’re not?”

  “No, thankfully, it’s not one of my problems.”

  She turned and stirred the pot as she added the ravioli. “So you don’t do drugs, you’re not a drunk, but you like to nail drunken girls; I have you pegged, huh?”

  “I think you did the first time you spoke to me,” he conceded. Admitting to such a reality was rare for him.

  She flashed a grin. “I did. But I’m still getting to know you. More surprises, huh?” She took out a cutting board and a large knife. After washing the greens, carrots, peppers and celery, she started cutting them up.

  He eyed her. “I should help you. But I don’t know how to prepare stuff like
that. I can clean up.”

  She stopped cutting and met his eye. “Oh, are you offering your services to me? Wasn’t that already implied?”

  He blinked, realizing she was right. He flushed as he replied, “Yeah.”

  She burst out laughing. “Relax. Chill. I offered you dinner and I don’t expect you to clean up. I don’t find you sexist at all, believe it or not. That’s one of your best qualities.”

  “That I treat all people equally bad?” he supplied.

  She kept her gaze on the knife and cutting skills. “Pretty much true, right?”

  “Yes. Except with Rob. I am always respectful to him.”

  She set her knife down and clasped a hand to her heart. Startled, he wondered what was wrong when she burst into a huge grin. “Dear God, are you telling me you’re learning? Did you actually listen to me?”

  “Yes,” he replied grumpily. “And you. I’m treating you better too.”

  She tilted her head. “Okay. If you think so, I’ll take that as a win.”

  “Aren’t I?” he challenged her.

  She finished cutting and tossed the greens into two bowls. Then she set her knife and chopping board in the sink. She pursed her lips and said, “I think you’re finally being honest with me. That’s the biggest difference. You are far more authentic now than you were when I first met you. Honestly, you were insufferable then. You can be harsh and mean, without intending to be, but now we are relatable. Your insistence on apathy was a bit too much for me.”

  “I noticed that. You have a fierce temper.”

  “You deserved it.”

  He nodded and noted his concession with a head bow. She grabbed the pot holders and poured the pot water and noodles into the sink through the strainer, returning the noodles to the pot before dumping the bottled sauce in, stirring it and setting it back on the stove. “Sorry, it’s vegetarian. We never buy meat.”

  “Vegan?”

  “Not officially. Karlee and I just never bothered to eat it very often.”

  “You miss her?”

  “Yeah. A lot,” Jody said in a tone that was softer than he was used to from her. Tender almost. “She’s moving on with her life. Growing up. Her boyfriend’s son is almost four years old now and she had to move in so she could fully engage as his mother. He calls her mom, but it was hard with their separation. It’s better now. But the whole next step was something I wasn’t ready to accept.”