Until there’s a knock at the door.
Mid-laugh at something Ben Stiller says, I look over and notice Justin’s face. His laughter died at the interruption. He’s watching me with a look that says the secret is about to be revealed.
“What’s on the other side of that door?”
“Go and check,” he shrugs.
“Oh, you have no idea, do you?”
“Not really, no.”
“That’s not a whole no.”
Shoving me off the couch he rises up, too. “Just go answer it.”
My heartbeat picks up. For some reason I have a feeling this has something to do with Sarah. Justin’s peculiar behavior has a matchmaker vibe to it, and he knows I’ve been depressed since I decided to follow his advice and leave this touchy situation alone.
If she’s on the other side of this door, I’m going to kiss the bastard.
I glance back to Justin. He motions for me to get on with it. “Are you gonna fucking open the door or what?!” he whisper-yells.
Holy shit, I’m nervous.
Outside my warehouse loft I find Simone in the parking lot in front of me, standing centered between somewhere near twenty boys. The corners of my eyes tighten in surprise as I try to understand what is happening.
Then they start to sing.
I grab onto the doorframe as the choir perfectly supports Simone’s angelic voice, all of them singing Brenda Lee’s famous I’m Sorry. When they break into harmonies, the twinkling voices hitting every note to its highest potential, it is so beautiful goosebumps light up my chest and arms. As the voices slowly fade, Simone holds her arms out and walks to me. “Jason,” she smiles, looking the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. “I’m sorry. I was a fool.”
Blinking, I let her wrap her arms around me. We have an audience and they’re all staring at us with smiling faces. Blown away by the romantic gesture, I hug her back and over her shoulder lock eyes with Sarah. Our gaze lingers. She raises her hand and waves with an awkward smile.
Simone releases me and my arms hang to the side I’m so stunned. “Jason, let me introduce you to the boys.”
Each one shakes my hand and I call Justin over to meet them. Two of the boys are twins and they get a kick out of seeing me and my brother together and all grown up.
“You’re not wearing matching clothes,” one says.
Chuckling, Justin says loudly enough so their mom can hear, “No, we were taught to be our own men.”
She hears his message, face flushing. I throw him a look, taking the opportunity to glance to Sarah.
She’s watching me, her expression unreadable.
My concentration is interrupted by parents coming to meet me, overlapping voices explaining how much they love the song and can’t wait to have their sons be a part of something so fun.
I cock my head. “The song?”
“We saw it on YouTube.”
“Oh right! Yeah.” I glance to Simone. “It’s going to be great.”
Simone bounces a little, ecstatic I’m on board again, and I turn back to the parents because I’ve kinda been roped into something without the ability to say no.
But how could I turn down these talented kids? Music is my life. Their voices are pure magic, and this song is going to be fucking…
“Fantastic,” I whisper, lost in my thoughts as the parents ask if I know when we’ll be recording. “Um, let me look into my schedule and we’ll find a time that works for everyone. We’ll send over the lyrics right away.”
“I’m Mr. De Silva, the choir’s coordinator.”
“He’s more than that,” Simone smiles. “He’s their conductor!”
He has a nice, friendly face, and I offer him a grin, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. De Silva. You’ve done a great job.”
“You too,” he beams.
As he tells me something I can’t hear because I’m so distracted by wanting to talk to Sarah, I glance to where she was standing.
She’s not there anymore.
Simone touches my arm and tells him, “I’ll work with the boys and help them prepare before we go to Jason’s studio.”
After a few more questions, the parents gather their children and everyone heads to their cars.
Simone turns, “Justin. Thank you so much for helping.”
“No problem,” he mutters eyeing her.
When Simone’s eyelashes flutter to me, I ask, stupefied, “This was your idea?”
“Uh huh,” she smiles, eyes shining. “We’re going to get some food. You want to come?”
“Justin just cooked. I’m full. You guys go.”
I need a moment to process what just happened. Justin helped Simone? I never saw that coming.
Her smile falters with disappointment. “Okay. Can I come by later?”
I feel like I’ve been punched. She’s never asked to see me. It’s always me doing the chasing.
“Uh…”
A seductive grin appears and she bites her lower lip. I blink at her because I normally jump like a dog doing tricks for biscuits when she looked at me like this.
That old zing is no longer here.
But she can’t see that. “I’ll see you later then,” she smiles as if it’s been decided, turning on her heel and practically skipping toward a white Toyota. In the driver’s seat, faced away from me, is curly red hair.
Justin claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re fucked.”
He goes inside and I follow, not wanting to get caught staring after the car.
“You knew about this?” I ask him.
“Not really. They asked me to make sure you were home.”
“They?”
He’s lost in thought and shakes his head. “I’m happy for you.”
His frown is stubborn and leads me to believe otherwise. “You are? You don’t look happy.”
“I’m taking it in, Jason. Just like you. But yeah, I’m happy for you. I didn’t want you dropping the album.” I’m about to interrupt but he cuts me off. “It’s going to be big, Jase. It’s going to be fucking huge. That choir… that was brilliant on your part.” He heads for the hook where he hung his keys and adds a somber, “Have fun tonight.”
Frowning I mutter, “Yeah, thanks,” and go for the remote to turn the paused movie off. I’m not in the mood to finish it. Neither is he.
I’m lost in thought when I hear him say, “Jason?”
I glance over. “Yeah?”
He pauses, and his eyes drop to the floor. “Nothing. I’ll see ya.” He disappears, the door clicking behind him.
Jason
It’s a funky feeling when you’re looking at someone you used to be addicted to, and that high is gone. Simone gliding around my loft in a new dress, she’s clearly one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. But the charge isn’t there anymore. She might as well be my sister. I don’t have any, but if I did, I suspect this is what it would feel like.
“Where’d you guys eat?” I ask as I reach into the fridge for some beers.
“The Vortex. Do you know it?”
Snorting, “Do I know it? Best burgers in town. Little Five Points or Midtown?”
“There are two?” she asks with big eyes. I can tell she’s trying to flirt.
Casually I answer, “There are. One is connected to Laughing Skull, a comedy club. My brothers and I go there all the time.”
“Really?” she asks, squishing her nose up. “It’s so smoky in there. I didn’t like that.”
Popping the tops off a couple of bottles, their caps go flying as I argue, “Are you kidding? It’s a city landmark! That menu is off the charts funny. The burgers are incredible. And they play classic rock!”
“I’m not a fan of classic rock. It’s more for guys than girls,” she says with a saucy smile.
“Are you crazy? Tons of women love it.”
She saunters to me and takes the extended bottle. “You’re getting a little heated, Jason.”
“Because I can’t believe wha
t you’re saying! If it were Sarah having this conversation with me, she’d bite my head off and tell me why I should enjoy being headless.”
Laying her hand on my Jimi Hendrix t-shirt she smiles, “I’m not Sarah. If I were, we wouldn’t be doing this.” She runs her hand down my abs. My cock stays asleep as if nothing is happening.
Taking a sip, I mutter, “You hungry?” as she leans up for a kiss.
She blinks at me. “No, we just ate. At the Vortex, remember?”
“Oh, right.” I take another sip and block her second try.
Cocking her head Simone backs off and walks away, saying over her shoulder, “You’re still mad at me.”
I know she did that to show me her ass. Her ass is a little flat if I’m honest, but I know she doesn’t believe that. Now, Sarah’s ass on the other hand…
Fuck, Jason. Cut it out. That’s her friend and she’s here trying to seduce you. Stop thinking about Sarah and get Simone out of here.
“I’m not angry anymore.”
Fluttering her eyelashes, she asks, “Then why are you being so cold?”
“I don’t know,” I lie, watching her slide her spaghetti strap down her shoulder.
“Let’s put this past us, Jason.”
Sucking on my lips I watch her slip the other one off. She turns to me so that it drops all the way and exposes her braless tits. They’re hard and ready for my mouth, and any guy would shout I’m a fool not to be taking advantage of this.
I set the bottle down and stay put, my eyes narrowing in concentration. Guess I am a fool. She smiles like she knew she could get me going, and slowly walks to me.
I’m feeling nothing behind my zipper as she glides her fingertips up her stomach and touches those rock hard nipples on a smile.
Part of me is not okay with my flaccid reaction.
She’s stunning and I’m limp?
No man is ever okay with that.
Simone slips her arms around my neck and lowers her eyelids in the sexiest way. Still nothing. I swear it’s just out of habit that I palm her breasts, gently at first, just caresses. Then I tweak the nipples and watch her throw her head back and moan.
Fuck, I used to love the sound of that.
She comes back up and surprises me with a kiss. Out of habit our tongues touch and my eyes close. In no time I’m seeing Sarah kissing me and my dick twitches in my jeans for the first time.
At this exact moment Simone grabs my crotch and whispers against my confused lips, “Starting to get hard. I noticed you didn’t have a tent, for once, but here he comes.”
She kisses me while stroking my crotch, and it’s working until I fucking see Sarah in the parking lot, turning away to go to the car.
I step back from Simone, stammering as my penis deflates, “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I don’t want it.”
Simone backs away, too, and covers herself with her arms. “You…don’t want it?”
“I’m sorry, Simone. I shouldn’t have let it go that far. Men are stupid.”
“You’re just going to turn me down?”
“You girls do it to us all the time.”
“Men never do!”
I fucking hate how she emphasized the word men, like I wasn’t one.
“Hey, women never make men feel bad when they don’t want to fuck. Just like real men don’t do that to you when you say no, right?! Now pull your dress back up and go.”
The shock is so strong I think if she had a knife she might try and cut me. Instead she runs at me with her fist up, one arm over her naked breasts. “I hate you!”
I easily grab her wrist and hold her away from my body. “Yeah, well, I don’t hate you. I’m just no longer interested in anything romantic anymore.”
“Romantic,” she snorts. “It was always just fucking, Jason. That’s all you were to me, a fuck, and a hell of an awesome music producer. And that’s it!”
Nodding while I chew on my lips, I release her wrist with a push so that she keeps her distance.
She yanks her dress straps back on, glaring at me like she wants me dead. She storms to her handbag and heads for the door. Spinning around, she shouts, “We’re still working on this album, right?”
With an ironic smirk I cross my arms. “You think I’m going to let those boys and their families down?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
“If you even have to ask that, then you don’t know me at all. We’re still recording it.”
“Fucking asshole,” she mutters, swinging the door open.
“How does that make me a fucking asshole?!” I shout at her back.
“You just are one, that’s how!” she yells, slamming it behind her.
Alone in my loft, I snarl, “What the hell did I see in her?”
Sarah
Not going to cry. Not going to cry. Not going to cry.
Why isn’t this ice cream working? I’ve eaten two bites and can’t manage to the get the third spoonful to my trembling lips.
Not going to cry, dammit!
Shooting up from the Airbnb couch I storm to the sink to throw Rocky Road down the drain for the first time in my entire life.
“This is your fault,” I mutter.
To myself. Not the ice cream.
My hips are the ice cream’s fault but it’s not responsible for Simone being at Jason’s loft right now. Alone with him. Underneath him.
That’s my fault. It was my idea to have those boys sing for him. It was me who messaged Justin and asked him to help. It was me.
I am to blame for this pain.
I ask the empty room, “Why does this feel so terrible?” as if a therapist might magically appear to help me understand my psychosis. “For months she was there with him and I was alone and it was normal. I had no problems. I was my usual grouchy self. So why the hell do I feel like I’m going to puke tonight?”
As my shoulders start to shake I breathe deeply in and walk toward the bedroom, but I never make it there. Instead my head slams into a wall and I stay pressed against it, moaning.
“Go to sleep, Sarah,” I rasp. “Tomorrow will come faster that way.”
But I can’t move.
“This is ridiculous. I’ve always been fine with whoever Simone called her flavor of the month. But now a very, very big part of me wants to tell Jason to run…even if he’s way out of my league and I don’t have a chance with him. I know how she is! She’ll spit him out and then he’ll come crying to me and I’ll have to stroke his perfect head and pretend like I’m just his friend. I fucking hate this. God, why does this hurt so much!”
Groaning with my eyes shut, I claw at the wall and try to disappear through it.
A voice in my heart whispers, warn Jason. Warn him!
“Stop it. I can’t warn Jason!” I groan aloud. “That’s ridiculous! And wrong! And selfish as fuck! I’d be doing it for me! Because then maybe I’d be able to get out of the shadow she keeps me in on purpose so she’s the only one who’s shining…”
A-ha! You finally see it!
Opening my eyes in shock, I push off the wall and hold onto my head. “No…Simone doesn’t keep me in the shadows…she’s always very supportive of me.”
When you’re supportive of her.
“No,” I groan. “She knows how much I’m worth.”
To her. What about you as a person? How are you going to be happy if you keep putting her first?
“I work for her,” I whisper. “It’s my job to put her first.”
She talks down to you. She did it in front of Jason after he kissed you, to make sure he knew you were beneath her.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I shout at the top of my lungs.
“Sarah?” A bang on the door surprises me and I look over as I hear her voice muffled through it, saying, “Sarah, I forgot the key!”
“Simone?” I rush over and unlock it to discover her hair in place and makeup still perfect. “Did you come all the way back here for the key?”
“Were you yelling at som
eone? Do you have a guy here?”
“What? No…” I mutter, running my hand through my hair and trying to act like I wasn’t just talking to myself and need to be handcuffed and taken to a hospital. “The T.V. was on and I was yelling shut up at the commercial. One of those stupid tampon ones that makes us look like idiots.”
“Oh. I hate those.” She blinks with irritation under the surface. “Well, that makes more sense. I would have been shocked if you had a guy over.”
I stare at her as she storms past me and picks up my water, drinking from it like she’s been in a desert. Shutting the front door I mutter, “I could have had a man over.”
On a snort she rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” She slams the glass down and announces, “You’re not going to believe this! He couldn’t get it up! Can you believe it? King of Ego-land — cocky Jason couldn’t get his cock to work! Totally limp.”
She’s looking at me like she wants me to start ripping him to shreds, laughing with her over his inability to get it up. A month ago I would have laughed myself silly, because back then my attraction to him was hidden even from me. Back then I would have gloried over this revelation and begged for all the embarrassing details so I could mock him the moment I stepped in front of his overly confident face.
But it’s not a month ago.
Right now I’m just stunned. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” she grumbles, running a hand through her flaxen hair. “He’s just an asshole, that’s all.”
“Did you fight?”
“Of course we fought!”
“Over impotency?” I whisper, confused.
Glaring at me, she demands, “Why aren’t you joining in on this with me? You sound like you feel bad for him!”
“I don’t, I just know it’s hard for guys when they’re not… hard.”
I sound like an idiot.
She dryly mutters, “Ha ha,” walking to the couch and flopping onto it, even though her flop is more graceful than most ballet dancer’s pirouettes.
Cocky Romantic: A Hot Romantic Comedy Stand Alone (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 4) Page 9
