The VIP area was a raised area at the back of the room like a stage of its own, closed off with velvet rope and a wall of well-built men. Inside were Raf, Letty, Pepper and their wives, Dylan and his friend Ash, and a bunch of other people I knew or at least recognized from Jesse’s crew and various other events we’d been to along the tour. I knew almost everyone here.
It was a far cry from where I began at the beginning of the tour in my first VIP room with Jesse, where I knew hardly a soul.
I liked it. It kind of felt like coming home.
Dylan and Ash gave me a welcoming hug, but they really flipped their shit over Jessa. I got the feeling she didn’t show her face often; everyone was pumped to see her and drinks were shoved our way. Jessa kept hold of my hand half the time and we ended up sharing a love seat vacated for us. Jesse squeezed in next to me. He looked happy, glad to be there with me, I think, but also really proud to be there with his sister. I felt like I had the seat of honor, sitting right there between them.
Happy birthday to me.
As I watched the band, I got goose bumps. Zane’s stage presence was off the charts. His blond hair was shaved almost completely off at the sides, the top grown out like a really long mohawk that refused to stay up and fell over his eye. He wore loose, super low-slung jeans that showed off the V of his groin, and an incredibly small leather vest that was dead sexy. His lean, tight abs were on full display, his chest slick with sweat, his nipple piercing sparking as it caught in the light. He’d also grown a blond beard and he looked pretty much like what I imagined the devil himself would look like, if the devil climbed on up out of hell to rock out, bent on corrupting the souls of a fuckload of women in the process.
He had every woman in the crowd, not to mention most of the men, dangling, hearts in throats and fists in the air, devouring his every move, every word. I’d never seen him rock out live. I’d only seen him on stage when he and Jesse played together at the VIP show in Vancouver, which was totally different. Unplugged. Chill. And Zane was clearly trying not to upstage Jesse since it was his show.
This was full-on Zane, and I could see why he was Dirty’s frontman. Jesse could own a stage. Zane owned the whole fucking place.
I’d pretty much died and gone to rock ’n’ roll heaven.
All Wet Blanket played, all night long, were covers. Sizzling hot, kick-ass covers, mostly of classic rock songs, which spoke to my heart and gave me a total lady boner. Though I wasn’t the only woman in the crowd getting off on the show. When Zane announced they were down to their last few songs of the night, there was a backlash of screams. You’d think they’d just announced they were going to mass-murder the audience.
Then the band kicked into the hardest, hottest version of AC/DC’s Girls Got Rhythm I’d ever heard, and all was forgiven. The entire club throbbed with it. The floor shook. I was pretty sure sweat was rolling down the walls. When they rocked out the final chords, I leaned over to Jesse and said, “If it weren’t for our deal and the two hundred grand on the line, I’d say you’ve got competition, sweetie.”
His eyes narrowed at that, but crinkled with amusement at the corners.
“Fucking Zane,” he said.
At that moment, fucking Zane started talking into the mic.
“Recently one of my best friends fell in love.” He looked straight to the back of the room, to the love seat where Jesse sat next to me, and pointed straight at him. “Welcome to the motherfucking show, brother.”
Jesse lifted his drink in salute. At this, there were a bunch of hoots and whistles, and a couple of women on the dance floor screamed, “I love you, Jesse!”
“When you see your friend that happy,” Zane went on, “you want to be happy for him. And you are. But when his girl’s as awesome as his is, you also want to hate him just a bit.” As the white light caught in Zane’s ice-blue eyes, I swore he looked right at me. “Happy birthday, Katie. This one’s for you.”
I glanced at Jesse. He just shrugged; apparently he hadn’t put Zane up to this. I felt the blush heating my cheeks, like everyone in the place was staring at me, though in reality, their attention was still on Zane. And maybe Jesse.
With the opening notes, and definitely the opening words, I recognized the song.
Jessie’s Girl.
I looked at Jesse. A huge grin split his face, his white teeth gleaming in the spotlight that was trained on him as he shook his head at Zane. I laughed and shrank back into the couch, out of the spotlight, hoping to disappear.
No such luck. By the time the chorus kicked in, Jessa had yanked me up off the seat and over to one of the knee-high tables, where she proceeded to pull me up and force me to dance. Which was to say that she started to dance, and I could either stand there like a party pooper and let her dance alone, or join her. I chose the latter.
We danced our asses off. Because why the hell not?
Zane Traynor was singing a song, for me, to a packed house. I was here with Jesse Fucking Mayes and his sister wanted to dance with me, on a table. It was my motherfucking birthday, I was turning twenty-five, and life was pretty fucking good.
I, Katie Bloom, was Jesse’s girl.
More or less.
When the song was over I collapsed back onto the love seat with Jessa, laughing. More drinks were waiting for us. Jesse handed me a glass of bubbly and leaned in, his lips grazing my ear, sending a shiver of sparks down my spine. “Happy birthday, Katie,” he said, brushing my hair back over my shoulder and down my back.
And that’s when I saw her.
Elle.
The one member of Dirty I hadn’t yet met.
Jesse’s gorgeous ex-girlfriend.
She was ensconced in a big leather booth at the other end of the VIP area, surrounded by a bunch of people, including Dylan and Ash. Maybe she’d just arrived. Maybe she’d been there the whole time. I had no idea.
She wasn’t looking at me. Maybe she hadn’t noticed me.
I was pretty sure by now she knew who I was. By now, everyone who knew Jesse knew who I was.
But table dancing aside, it was pretty packed in the club. If she hadn’t noticed I was there, she was definitely about to, since my hand was attached to Jesse’s, and my other hand was intermittently attached to his sister’s.
Was she there during Jessie’s Girl?
I wasn’t sure why I cared. Why I was so nervous to come face-to-face with her. I had as much reason to be here as she did.
So why did I suddenly feel out of place?
“What’s wrong?”
I looked up into beautiful molasses eyes, dark eyebrows that were furled together. And I had no desire to add to the stress of whatever he was going through with his sister with my petty insecurities. So I said, “Nothing. Just going to find the ladies’ room.”
I was kind of hoping to drag Jessa with me as a gorgeous security blanket, but no luck. She was deep in conversation with Jude, so I went by myself, leaving Jesse with what I intended as a quick kiss. Instead, he delved his hand into my hair and held me to him, lip-locked, for a long, breathless moment before letting me go.
I got up a little dazed, straightened my halter dress, and weaved off in the direction of the exit signs at the back of the VIP area.
Moments later, I emerged from the cubicle in the ladies’ room to find a number of women gathered at the sinks. Actually, they were gathered around a striking platinum blond.
Elle was talking with one of her girlfriends in a hushed voice and fiddling with her long, white-blond hair, which was teased up into a super-cool fauxhawk, the sides braided back, her slim, tan figure wrapped in an asymmetrical white mini-dress.
Her eye caught mine in the mirror.
I slipped up to the sink next to hers. Her girlfriends finished up and left; Elle stayed put, her eyes on me.
Shit. What was it with club bathrooms and confrontations?
I met her gaze in the mirror again as I dried my hands, thinking I’d say hello. But the look she gave me as she touched up her lipstick couldn’t h
ave been more unwelcoming.
“Jesse’s girl,” she said. But it wasn’t with any trace of the affection or good-natured ribbing with which Zane had sung it.
“Hi,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I started to offer my hand to introduce myself properly.
“You won’t last,” she said. “They never do.”
Then she continued applying her lipstick like I wasn’t even there.
For a moment I just stood there, stunned, my hand frozen in the air. Humiliation, anger and hurt broiling up inside.
Then I dropped my hand. I found my voice. “You mean, because you didn’t.”
I looked at myself in the mirror and touched up my lip gloss the way I would have if she wasn’t there, because no way was I about to go scurrying out of here with my tail between my legs just because Jesse’s ex-girlfriend was a rude, jealous bitch.
I felt the cold prick of her stare, but I ignored it as I tucked my lip gloss away.
From the corner of my eye I saw her turn to leave. Then she paused and said, “At least when we were together, it was real.”
Then she walked out, leaving me standing there alone.
CHAPTER 32
KATIE
I didn’t see Elle again until hours later, when the club was shutting down. The get-the-fuck-out lights were turned on and we’d gone out back to smoke up with the band and say our goodbyes. I’d managed to avoid her completely in the club, but it wasn’t as crowded outside and she was nearby, talking with Dylan.
Maybe some girls would’ve taken the opportunity to make out with Jesse and rub it in her face.
I wasn’t one of those girls.
Instead I took the high road and just went on with my night, at Jesse’s side, the way I would any other night. But her words had cut me deep.
At least when we were together, it was real.
And she was right. I felt like a fraud hanging out on his arm. Because I was living a total lie.
Not the lie I’d started living at the beginning of the tour, the one that said we were a couple when we weren’t. This was a worse lie. It was a lie to Jesse. It was a lie to myself.
Because I was totally in love with the guy, just like the world thought I was, but pretending to both him and myself that I wasn’t.
I went with him to put his sister in a cab, and after we said our goodbyes and she was gone, I told him, “She’s so beautiful, Jesse.”
I meant it as a legit compliment, but he didn’t smile. He just looked all tense and distracted like he had most of the night and said, “Yeah.”
While he was doing his final rounds I went over to thank Zane for the song. His ice-blue eyes lit up when he saw me coming. I didn’t know what it was, exactly; his drop-dead gorgeous looks, his crazy cool style, that charismatic smile? But the man had danger written all over him.
I let him scoop me up in his arms for a lingering hug, the kind I’m sure he gave most women, his entire body flush against mine. He didn’t even pretend to try to leave a respectable distance between his groin and mine the way most guys, and friends of Jesse’s, would. “Katie,” he said, and I swore he smelled my hair.
Suddenly Maggie’s advice to me at the beginning of the tour came back. Really, the only useful thing I can tell you about Zane Traynor is keep your distance.
I decided to ignore that warning, trusting Jesse’s friendship with the man in my arms. Plus, the man had sung me a birthday song, I was pleasantly content with my champagne buzz, and since I wasn’t really Jesse’s girl I could hug whomever the fuck I wanted to.
“Zane,” I said. “That was the best birthday present a girl could get.”
Other than the one Jesse gave me when he flew my family out to surprise me, but I didn’t feel like going there with Zane.
He got a big, shit-eating Viking grin on his face and tipped his head back, laughing that big, cocky laugh of his, showing me all his perfect white teeth. He still had one hand on my lower back, holding me to him, and his other hand was on my ass before I knew it. Then he kissed me on the cheek and said, “Anytime, Jesse’s girl.”
He let me go and I scrambled over to Jesse, who wrapped me in his arm and tucked me into his side, still talking to some guy. He hadn’t even noticed the exchange between Zane and I, and I didn’t particularly want him to.
I had no warm, gushy or conflicted feelings for Zane, and while he was gorgeous to look at, I wasn’t attracted to him. I thought he was fucking cool, and as Jesse’s friend and bandmate I would’ve liked to be able to call him a friend. But the truth was I didn’t really know the guy, and the way he looked at me confused the shit out of me. I didn’t think he actually wanted me. I was pretty sure he was just fucking with me to amuse his giant ego, which probably rivaled Jesse’s for all-time Rock and Roll Hall of Fame giant egos.
It was a wonder the two of them ever fit on the same stage together.
We said our goodbyes, and while I got my goodbye hugs from pretty much everyone except Elle, Jesse had a few words with her, which I was glad to see did not end with a lingering groin-to-groin hug complete with ass squeeze.
But on the way back to the hotel, I decided to bring it up.
Jude was driving us but Jesse was with me in the backseat, and there was music on loud enough that I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be overheard.
“Did you tell Elle about us?” I was leaning into Jesse’s side and his arm was around me. When he didn’t answer right away, I tipped my head back to look up at him.
He didn’t look like he’d heard me. His gaze was unfocused, directed out the window. When I elbowed his ribs, lightly, his dark eyes snapped to mine.
“Huh? What about us?”
“I don’t know. What did you tell her?”
“Nothing,” he said. “She didn’t ask. I didn’t bring it up.”
I turned away, but he caught my chin and turned my face back to his.
“She knows we’re together. We’re not exactly hiding it.”
That was true. There were images of Jesse and I all over the place, and the only thing that made me feel okay rather than totally nauseous about that was the fact that Jesse and I looked very cozy in those pictures. That thought made me feel a little better, because fuck Elle if she was gonna be like that.
But then I just felt bad.
As soon as we got to the hotel I went straight into the shower. I needed a few minutes alone to blast myself with steamy water and clear my head. It had been such a crazy day.
First, thinking Jesse was meeting someone, probably Elle, behind my back. Ordering Flynn to take me to crash his date, which I should really apologize to both of them for. Then meeting Jesse’s beautiful but obviously troubled sister, and seeing him bent out of shape all night about something. I’d never felt that kind of tension coming off him. The only tension I was used to feeling in Jesse’s presence was of the sexual variety, which was a lot more fun.
Then there was the kick-ass show, which made me both excited to see Dirty play together someday, and depressed as hell that this tour was almost over and I may never actually get the chance to do that… because I could not see myself standing in line to buy a ticket to a Dirty concert sometime next year when they went on their next tour, and standing in the crowd watching them up on stage, out of my reach, like any other fan. The thought almost brought me to tears.
And then there was the run-in with Elle, which made me feel sick to my stomach. And the booze I’d drank to try to numb out that feeling. And the overly-familiar hug from Zane, which had been unexpected, a little flattering and not too out of place in the moment, but now felt kinda shitty. I was wondering if I should tell Jesse about it when the door to the shower opened and he appeared, naked, and stepped into my steam.
“We never had that shower you mentioned,” he said, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pressed up against my backside.
“What shower?”
“You know, the one on your list. Top five kinky things.”
�
��Oh,” I breathed as he kissed my neck. “That.”
And with that, all the woes of the evening melted down the drain. It was far too distracting showering with a naked, wet Jesse to even remember all the things I thought I was upset about only moments ago. Especially when he started washing me with a soapy washcloth and nibbling my ear, then whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Jessa likes you,” he said, turning me to face him. “I haven’t seen her that happy…” Something dark passed over his features, troubling me all over again. “Well, in a long time.”
“You mean she never table danced with your other girlfriends?”
A slight smile quirked his lips. “That would be a no.”
◊◊◊
Half an hour later we were all steamed up but clean, dry, and I was ready to collapse into bed. Jesse followed, leaving on the lamp by the bed as he climbed in under the sheet with me. He stretched out next to me and I wrapped my arm lazily around his waist. He was so warm, his skin soft. He trailed his fingers through my hair, his arm flung around me on the pillow.
We hadn’t even gotten it on in the shower, which only fueled the uneasy feeling that had been building all night.
“So…” I asked, rather bravely, since the blood coursing through my veins was still at least fifty percent champagne, “how come you don’t do the girlfriend thing?”
After a moment, Jesse sighed. “The answer to that will make me sound like an ass.”
“So be an ass.” I smiled to encourage him and elbowed him gently. “Come on. Tell me.”
“The truth, Katie Bloom,” he said while playing with my hair, “is that in my experience the women I date usually want something from me I’m not prepared to give. So I just don’t go there.”
“But you did with Elle.”
“I did with Elle.”
“May I ask why?”
He considered that for a moment before he answered. “I felt a lot of pressure to be what she wanted.” His eyes met mine and he stopped playing with my hair. “Man, that does make me sound like an ass.”
“Kind of,” I said. He frowned a little and I grinned. At least he looked mildly amused, which was miles better than the strained look he’d had on his face most of the night.
Dirty Like Me Page 26
