by Bryony Kayn
Steve took it as a sign that she was capitulating, and didn’t push. He was unhappy that she wasn’t going with him to the studio but glad she was staying away from Angel.
Angel didn’t come down to the Neon at all, and Jake didn’t call him. She assumed he was upset about what had almost happened between them, and couldn’t really blame him. She’d let things go too far, and maybe that was all it had taken to destroy their close relationship. She had never been the kind of person to back down from a confrontation, but at this point she didn’t want Angel to confirm that he was done with her. So when Steve was gone and before she had to be to work, she hung out at his house and brooded.
The morning of the fourth day, she awoke before Steve, as she usually did. Instead of getting up and showering, she stayed beside him, watching him sleep. His jaw was scruffy and his black hair tangled. The sheet was kicked off to the end of the bed, revealing his muscular body. He had some Mexican and Italian blood in his heritage, so his skin was a warm brown, even where it never saw the sun.
Jake gazed at him, thinking about the last few days. They’d been getting along better since she’d been staying with him. He took pains to give her all his attention when they were together and had spent hours making love to her. She was more content with him now than she’d ever been in the four-plus years they’d been involved.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, opening his eyes.
“I thought you were sleeping,” she said, reaching over to put her hand on his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath her palm.
“I could feel you watching me,” he replied, putting his hand over hers. “What are you thinking?” he asked again.
She shrugged one shoulder, never moving her eyes from his. “Just how nice it’s been the last few days. I can’t remember ever being more comfortable with you—with us.”
“You belong here,” he said, tugging on her hand lightly. “I’ve known it all along.”
She said nothing to that, but gave in to his urging and moved over against him, her head on his shoulder.
“I know you don’t want to move too fast,” he went on softly, “but we should probably bring some more of your things over here. You shouldn’t have to be doing laundry every other day, not when you have a closet full of clothes at Angel’s.”
She nodded slowly; what he said made sense.
He rubbed his hand over her back, no longer having to be cautious of touching her. The scrapes on her back were almost completely healed and no longer a cause of pain. “Come to T.J.’s with me today,” he said, his other hand touching her face gently. “I’ve missed having you there while we’re working. And T.J. and Marlo have been asking where you’ve been.”
“I’d like to,” she answered, closing her eyes as he smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’ve missed being there.”
“Good, it’s settled, then,” he whispered, lifting his head to touch his lips to her forehead. “You don’t have to work tonight, so we can go out after the studio. I’ll take you to dinner or wherever you like.”
She smiled. An actual date? How strange.
“We should get up,” he said, still moving his hand over her back, seeming engrossed with the feel of her soft skin under his fingers.
“There’s something I want to give you,” she said, sitting up to lean on his chest so she could see his eyes. “I brought it over here the other day, but the time never felt right.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Wait right here,” she replied and got off the bed, walking over to the closet.
Steve let his eyes move over her as she walked away from him, admiring her slender form from behind. When she came back a few seconds later carrying a small bundle of cloth in her hands, the view from the front was just as enticing.
“What is it?” he asked again, sliding back to lean against the broad headboard.
Jake climbed back onto the bed, sitting sideways so she could see him directly. She bent her knees, tucking her feet to one side, and leaned next to him. “This is something I’ve had for a long time—years. It has a lot of meaning to me, and that’s why I want to give it to you. A token, I guess, of the changes we’ve gone through and my commitment to making this work.” She unrolled the bundle, revealing that the wrapping was an old, threadbare T-shirt. Inside was a knife. It was serviceable rather than decorative, with a double-edged blade. The hilt was tightly wrapped in black leather and crisscrossed with silver-colored wire to aid the grip. The blade itself wasn’t that long, maybe five inches, but it was sharp enough to do damage without much effort.
“I remember this knife,” Steve said, surprised. “You were carrying it when we met.”
Jake nodded, lifting it free of the old T-shirt. “This was my first real weapon. I got it off a punk who was trying to rip me off for the ten or twelve bucks I had stashed. It’s my oldest possession.” She flipped the knife into the air, catching it deftly by the handle, then flipped it again and caught the blade flat between her fingers. She extended the hilt to him. “I don’t want to live that way anymore, babe. I don’t want to have to fight all the time just to get by. I want to be happy, with you. So I want you to have this so you know that I’m serious about us.”
He took the knife from her, hefting the well-balanced weapon thoughtfully. He’d seen this knife plenty of times, been intimately aware of her expertise with it, but had never handled it himself. She’d cut him with it more than once over the years. Finally, meeting her eyes levelly, he lifted the knife to his lips and kissed the hilt. Then he set it on the table beside the bed and turned back to pull her into his arms. “I’m serious about us, too,” he said, stroking her arm, then her side as she put her arms around him. “I know how much that knife means to you. I’m honored that you’d give it to me.” He kissed her, his pulse beginning to race as she responded to him passionately. “I’ll always keep it, Jae,” he whispered, lifting her over onto him, her legs straddling him. “Just like I’ll always keep you.”
She moaned; her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed her breasts, his hands moving all over her. “Ah, yes…”
Jake sat on the leather couch against the back wall of the studio, her legs pulled up so her knees were under her chin. When Angel came in, he saw her immediately and stopped for a moment.
“Hey, man,” T.J. said, turning from the board. Steve sat beside him in the second chair. Marlo was inside the soundproofed room, warming up on his drums.
“Hey,” Angel returned casually and walked over to the couch. He looked down at Jake for a long moment. She returned his gaze evenly. “Hey, little girl,” he finally said, holding out a hand to her.
She took it, letting him pull her to her feet, and slipped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. As always, she felt safe in his embrace. “Angel-mine,” she whispered.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, lifting her chin so he could see her face and smiling down into her eyes. “Have you been hiding from me?”
She shook her head, giving him an uncertain smile in return. “No, not hiding. I thought—I thought you were mad at me.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully then shook his head. “I can’t be mad at you, babe. I just had to get around—I had to get around what we talked about.”
She nodded, her smile trembling. She could see Steve past Angel’s arm, watching them without expression. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He held her tighter and bent to drop a kiss on the crown of her head. “Don’t be. Shit happens, and then you move on. It just took me a few days to realize that.” He stepped away from her then, as though he could feel the weight of Steve’s gaze on his back. “You’re still Jake-my-troublemaker,” he said teasingly, nudging her chin with his knuckles. “Wouldn’t know you were around if you weren’t causing trouble.”
“Fuck you,” she returned, but it was said affectionately. Then she stepped past Angel, letting her hand trail across his chest. She walked over to the chair where Steve sat, still watching them. Witho
ut saying anything, she sat down on his lap, putting her arm across his shoulders.
Steve gazed at her silently, his arm going around her automatically. When she leaned forward to kiss him, he returned the kiss with a smoldering passion that raised her heart rate in moments. When Jake finally pulled back a little, trying to catch her breath, Steve met Angel’s clear, green eyes.
Angel lifted his chin, nodding to Steve as though conceding a point. Steve smiled, a bare curve of his lips, and pulled Jake against his chest so her head could rest on his shoulder. He turned his chair so they were looking in at Marlo, who was oblivious to anything going on outside the soundproofed room. The drummer continued to play, the basic beat solid as a rock, as always.
When they finished up at the studio that evening, Steve and Jake drove back to his house to change clothes. Steve had suggested going out for dinner earlier and figured they might as well make an occasion of it. After all, she had the new dresses that she’d bought, and she looked great in them. While she did her hair and make-up, Steve called a restaurant in Beverly Hills called Apice to make a last-minute reservation.
Once he gave his name, a table immediately opened up for 8:30—just enough time for them to make the short drive. When Jake reappeared from the master bedroom wearing a dress colored such a deep burgundy it was almost black, Steve whistled appreciatively.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, the approval in his voice making her smile.
“You clean up pretty good yourself,” she replied, doing a quick pirouette so he could see all of her. She wore her hair down, falling straight to her waist. Black stilettos added five inches to her height, putting her almost eye-to-eye with Steve.
He crossed the room to her, taking her hands in his to draw her closer to him. He slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders, thumbs caressing the spaghetti straps that held the dress up. “This color looks great on you,” he said, tipping his head just slightly to kiss her.
She returned his kiss. It felt strange to be at the same level when she’d always been used to reaching up to kiss him. “Did you get a reservation?” she asked softly when the kiss ended.
“Yeah. We should probably get going,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist, his hand slipping along the soft fabric over her hip. He’d dressed up a little too, although it wasn’t hard to recognize the rock star under the tailored slacks and black silk shirt. He wore his hair as usual, long and messy, black curls framing his chiseled face.
“Let’s go then. I’m starved!” Jake put her arm around him, and together they walked out to the garage. Instead of the sports car he usually favored, Steve walked Jake to the Mercedes and opened the door for her. She smiled wryly, finding his Prince Charming act a bit ironic, and got into the car.
When they pulled up in front of the restaurant less than an hour later, a valet opened Jake’s door and offered her his hand to help her out. A second valet took the folded bill Steve handed him and gave the singer a slip of paper to reclaim the car when they were ready to leave. Steve walked around to take Jake’s hand and then they walked inside.
The table that Steve had reserved was on the open balcony of the penthouse. The hostess walked them up the flight of steps and out to a small square table set near one wall. After they’d seated themselves, she handed each a menu and a smaller folder with the list of available wines.
Jake looked around, keeping her face expressionless. This was way, way out of her experience, as far as dining went. She was more used to Denny’s or fast food and felt more than a little out of place, although she made an effort not to show it.
“See anything you like?” Steve asked, his lips curved into just the suggestion of a smile. He had known her long enough to realize she was slightly overwhelmed by the elegant surroundings, the high-priced menu, and the well-dressed customers. He seemed to actually be enjoying it.
“Steak is steak, isn’t it?” she returned, her tone cool. She narrowed her eyes, unable to completely disguise the flash of anger that coursed through her at his juvenile attempt to make her feel like some kind of Eliza Doolittle in this unfamiliar world she knew nothing about. “Since you’re feeling so superior, you can just order for me. I’d like a steak, medium rare, and a green salad.” She closed her menu, dropping it on the table before her. “Thanks so much for taking me out of my squat to show me how the other half lives.”
He scowled, glaring down at his menu. If he had thought he was being subtle, he apparently didn’t think so now.
“I’m going to go find the ladies’ room,” she said, getting to her feet. Three men sitting at the table kitty-corner from them looked over at her admiringly, and she gave them a sultry smile.
Steve clenched his teeth, slanting a glance at the other men, who hadn’t seemed to notice him at all. He turned his head to keep an eye on Jake as she walked back into the restaurant, practically strutting in her tight dress and high heels. She stopped by the bar, apparently asking directions to the restroom. Then she nodded and disappeared around a blind corner. When she was out of sight, he turned to glare at the men seated at the adjacent table. They had stopped talking while they watched Jake cross the restaurant.
“Got a good enough view from there?” Steve challenged, his jaw tight with anger.
The three looked vaguely startled for a moment, then laughed a little uncomfortably. “Your lady is very pretty,” one said, holding a hand out in unconscious surrender. “Can’t blame a guy for looking.”
Steve just stared at him until he finally turned back to his companions.
Jake walked into Angel’s kitchen and dropped her keys on the counter. She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. It was only eight in the morning, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.
“I’ve got to have some coffee,” a female voice said from the direction of Angel’s bedroom, and Jake turned her head toward the hallway. When she saw Spyk emerge, dressed in nothing but her long, auburn hair, Jake’s jaw dropped. “We’ve got company,” Spyk called over her shoulder, seemingly unsurprised, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re gonna catch flies with that,” she added to Jake, who closed her mouth.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Jake said, still stunned at seeing Spyk there in such a state of undress.
Spyk shrugged. “You didn’t interrupt. Yet.” She looked down at herself and chuckled. “Guess I’d better put some clothes on. Would you start a pot of coffee?”
“Yeah,” Jake replied as the other woman went back down the hallway. Jake went into the kitchen, found filters and Angel’s expensive coffee, and started a pot brewing. When she’d finished and pulled a cigarette from her pack, Spyk returned. The redhead was now wearing a tank top and cutoff shorts, which might have come from Jake’s own wardrobe.
“Didn’t expect to see you,” Spyk said, crossing the room and taking a seat at the kitchen table.
“I could say the same,” Jake agreed, lighting her smoke.
“Hey, little girl,” Angel said, making his appearance at last. He wore shorts and an unbuttoned shirt, his chest bare. His blond hair had yet to see a brush, and he hadn’t shaved. “What are you doing here so early?”
“I still live here, don’t I?” she asked and winced at the acerbic tone in her voice. “Sorry, babe. Bad night.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, instantly concerned.
“I’m fine. Just pissed off,” she assured him, leaning her hip against the countertop. “Just in case you weren’t aware, your good friend Steve is an asshole.”
Spyk barked a laugh, but made no comment.
Angel walked around the counter and put his arms around her for a moment, giving her a gentle hug. “Want to talk about it?”
Jake shrugged, forcing herself to relax. “He took me out to dinner last night, and it turned into a fucking fiasco.”
“What happened?” Spyk asked, genuinely curious.
“First things first,” Jake replied, stepping back so she could see Angel’s face. “When the hell did you two hook
up? I about shit my pants when Spyk sauntered out here in her birthday suit.”
Spyk laughed again, and Angel gave her a sly smile. “We hooked up, as you put it, four or five days ago,” he said.
Jake counted back and realized that had probably been the day they almost ended up in bed together.
“But I’ve had a thing for Spyk for months,” he continued. “And she finally told me to stop fucking around and make a move.”
“Not that I mind selling him all those thigh-high boots,” Spyk put in. “But he’s running out of room to store them.”
Jake raised an eyebrow at Angel, who actually colored slightly. “You weren’t buying them for your dates?” she teased, grinning up at him.
“No, I was just looking for an excuse…” he said softly, obviously embarrassed to admit it. “Well, she never had any interest in me in the old days.”
“I wasn’t entirely in my right mind in the old days,” Spyk said, getting up and coming over to slip her arm around his waist. “I’m the first to admit it.”
“I guess none of us were,” Jake observed softly, looking at the pair of them. They were a striking couple.
“No shit,” Spyk agreed, her blue eyes sharp on Jake’s face. “Back then we all made the worst possible choices.”
“Meaning?” Jake asked rather pointedly.
Spyk shrugged, unfazed by Jake’s tone. As always, she said whatever was on her mind, and too bad if anyone’s feelings got hurt. “Tanner OD’ing, Kila trying real hard to join him on his trip,” she said, flipping long hair over her shoulder. “The rest of us jumping into bed with anyone and everyone with no thought for the consequences.”
“Now you’re talking about Steve,” Jake said bitterly, taking a drag off her smoke. Her boyfriend had been notorious for sleeping around, although he wouldn’t tolerate the same behavior from her.
“We all made mistakes back then,” Spyk went on, ignoring the sharp look Angel gave her. “You were faithful to him, whether you liked it or not. And me? I was one of the sluts who made the mistake of letting him get in my pants.”
