What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 7)

by Lexi Buchanan

  Lori appears with a tray of shots and starts handing them out. “Bottoms up, Lei-Lei.”

  I warily look at the small glass filled with amber liquid and ask, “Um, is this tequila?”

  Lori nods and says, “No Ginger Ale for you tonight. This is the only way to properly get plastered.” She grabs a shot for herself. “To Leila, we are going to miss the fuck out of you, and we all love you.” She focuses on my new band members and says, “You guys better take care of her, or I will have your dicks for lunch with a side of your balls.”

  She smiles sweetly and then downs her shot in one fluid movement. There is some laughing, but my new band mates look uneasy and smile weakly. I would be nervous if I were them. Lori means every word.

  I guess Lori’s comments turned Trey on, because he moves over to suck her face. I look away totally embarrassed and mumble, “Ugh…get a room.”

  Lori stops enough to say, “You’re just jealous.” Ironically, she is spot on. My eyes find Jack, and I tentatively down my shot. As I make my tequila face, Jack openly laughs at me then drinks his own shot.

  “Crap. I hate this stuff. Damn it Lor, couldn’t you make our shots something sweeter?”

  She shakes her head, and passes me another.

  “I need to perform tonight, are you trying to kill me?”

  “Drink it!” she barks and I obey. I’m here five minutes and I’m buzzed. This is going to be a long, night.

  My dad shows up looking somber and like he just lost his best friend. He’s hovering in the corner as if by avoiding us, he’s eluding what we are actually celebrating.

  I need to snap him out of his funk. “Dad, smile.”

  “What for? My daughter is leaving me for a year.”

  “It’s not a year.”

  “It might as well be. My son barely speaks to me, and the Yankees are three games behind the Sox. Life sucks.”

  There isn’t much I can say to that. “Maybe you need to pick a different team?”

  He gives me a look. “Are you drunk?”

  “No, not yet. Almost though,” I giggle. “Come meet my new band.”

  He gives me another look.

  “Stop sulking, and try to be nice.”

  He allows me to drag him over, while his facial expression sets the tone for the introductions. The guys look like they want to bolt. I wander toward the bar, putting distance between my dad, my new boss, and me.

  Jack takes control and engages my dad in a conversation. Within minutes, Dad is smiling and chatting and no longer sulking. Jack Lair and his endless charm know no bounds. I hope that Dad likes him, and isn’t just acting. I don’t know why, but it’s suddenly important to me that they get along. I also hope that he isn’t giving him the third degree right now, or threatening his life in any way. Even if they are both smiling, that could be a total front.

  As I’m about to walk back over to them just to be sure, Matt comes to stand next to me and pushes into my shoulder. “Hey.”

  I push back. “Hey.”

  “I’m real proud of you. I may not show it or say it, but I am. I just wanted you to hear it.”

  I turn to face him totally stunned. “Really? Are you drunk?”

  “Yes, really and no, I’m not drunk…yet. I’ll wish you luck, but Leila you don’t need it. You are going to be great out there. Just don’t write harsh things about me when you publish your first autobiography.”

  “I can keep it to myself for a price.”

  He pulls me in for a hug and kisses my cheek. While in his embrace, my eyes land on Jack, who is watching us intently.

  Pulling away from Matt, I ask, “What just happened?”

  He strokes my cheek slowly, “I realized what I lost.”

  With that, Matt walks away and moves over to the bar to say something to Lori. She flips him off jokingly, and he laughs. Seriously, a planet must have careened of its axis tonight or the apocalypse is coming.

  As I am trying to figure out Matt’s atypical behavior, Jack strolls over and says, “Hi.”

  “Hi. Was my dad nice to you? He’s a bit depressed.”

  “Yes, very. He’s not happy that I’m a Mets fan though,” he chuckles. “How are you feelin’?”

  “Buzzed.” At that moment, Lori chooses to come over with another shot.

  “Go away,” I warn, while backing up. “Stay away from me.”

  “One more, for luck.” She smiles sweetly and holds the shot out for me to take.

  Jack starts laughing, but then turns it into a cough when he sees my face. I shove him and sulk, “You’re no help.”

  With a heavy sigh, I drink more of the awful medicine she continues to inflict on me, and immediately make my ugly face.

  “You’re such a drama queen,” Lori huffs. “Its just tequila, not battery acid.”

  “Go. Away.”

  They do get easier to handle, though, probably because they numb your taste buds. I won’t admit that to her. The third shot immediately reacts with my brain cells. How am I going to do our show? I hope I don’t fall on my ass up there. That would be quite an exit.

  I giggle at the visual, and Jack asks, “Want to share?”

  I forget that he was standing right next to me. “I’m gonna fall on my ass up there.”

  Jack moves closer and whispers, “I’ll save you if you do.” His lips brushed up against my ear, causing me to break out with goosebumps all over my body. I slowly turn my head and we come face to face. I stare at his lips, while licking my own. He smiles slowly, setting off all my triggers. Self-consciously, I take a step back because his aura is numbing my brain.

  “You can’t do that to me,” I pant. The tequila fuels my honesty.

  “Do what? Save you?” he smirks knowingly, and my eyes once again fixate on his lips.

  “You know what. You’re like a vampire. You glamour me.”

  “Good to know…for future reference.”

  “I…I gotta go…um… I gotta…I gotta go sing,” I stupidly respond, fumbling over my words.

  His stare is intense and serious and fucking hot. “That’s a shame.” He brushes his lips against my ear again and adds, “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

  Holy fuck.

  I’m not sure how I managed to walk to the back room without breaking my neck. Alcohol gets me into trouble with Jack. What game is he playing? That bastard absolutely knows the affect he has on me. Does he enjoy watching me act like a complete idiot?

  The first time he kissed me he was drunk. The second time he kissed me we were both drunk. Well he’s completely sober right now…so what the hell is he pulling? I’m coherent enough to know Jack wasn’t just flirting with me out there. That was an invite.

  As I’m storing my bag in my locker, trying frantically to calm my breathing, Sal enters the back room.

  “Hey princess, how’s my girl doing?” He gives me a hug. “You ok sweetheart?” I wonder if it’s my beet red cheeks, erratic breathing, or pounding heart that tips him off.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Lori is getting me drunk.”

  “That girl is too much.” After a pause he says, “So, um…I haven’t had a chance to congratulate you Leila. I am so proud of you, and I want you to know you always have a place here if you need it. I say that fully knowing you’ll never be back.”

  “Unless I fail miserably and come begging for my old job back.”

  “Not gonna happen. This joint is in your past. You are on your way, pretty girl. I’m honored to have been here during your start.” I start to well up with tears from his words.

  “Aaww, don’t cry. I’m not trying to upset you. I just wanted to let you know how I feel. And don’t you worry about your old man, I’ll keep him busy. He won’t have time to miss you.” He embraces me again. We both know that would never happen, but it is nice to hear Dad will have so many people looking out for him. Between my boys, Sal, and Barb, I know he’ll be just fine.

  “Sal, I’m going to miss you. You’re like my favorite uncle.”


  “Get out there and do your thing.” He wipes away my tears, then turns and walks out the door. I’m sure this is his way of saying goodbye and I doubt I’ll be getting another one from him before I leave. Sal is a man of very few words.

  As I’m about to finally get on stage, Lori strolls into the room holding a margarita.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Sal said goodbye.”

  “Oh. Here.” She holds the margarita in front of my face.

  “Nah ah.”

  “Oh relax. It’s still tequila, so you aren’t mixing. Besides, you love my margaritas. One for the road?”

  “Lor, I’m gonna make a fool out of myself up there.”

  “So? After tonight you’ll never see those people again. Besides, you’ve made a fool out of yourself in front of us plenty of times.”

  “You. Are. Exhausting.” I take a tiny sip, but then proceed to gulp the entire drink down.

  Lori laughs, obnoxiously. “See that wasn’t so bad?” She takes my glass, kisses my cheek and turns to get back to the bar in five seconds flat. She’s like the stealth enabler.

  I’m plastered by the time I get my ass on stage.

  Our show is awesome…I’m lying. It’s our worst show ever. We screw up and we make mistakes and we laugh, but it is still awesome. During our show I somehow consume two more of Lori’s lethal margaritas, and I have no clue how they even found their way to my lips. The boys sang Jersey Girl to me for our last song and the entire bar joined in. The alcohol I’ve consumed coming in handy at that moment, because a sober Leila would have been mortified. Instead I cried, laughed and sang along with them all. It was the perfect ending.

  The walk from the stage to the bar takes forever. Almost every patron stops me every few steps to say goodbye and or wish me luck. Some asked for my autograph. Some of the guys wishing me luck try to get frisky. Jack appears out of nowhere and escorts me to the bar himself while murmuring, “Fucking idiots.” Possessive Jack is a complete turn on.

  By the time I get to the bar, I need a drink. “Lor, margarita me!”

  “Babe…I think you’ve had enough.”

  Babe?

  Oh God. Jack calling me Babe is a complete turn on.

  Stretching on my tippy toes, I bring my lips to his ear. “It’s so hot when you call me babe, and I think I need one more.” My seductive move might have been very effective, had I not stumbled and fallen right into his arms.

  “My hero.” I gaze into his eyes, sending obvious “kiss me” signals.

  Jack mumbles under his breath. “You’re killing me.” Before I can formulate the words to ask the question why, he lifts me onto an empty bar stool.

  “Sit.”

  “You’re so bossy, Jackson.” I giggle from using his real name and decide to test it on my tongue. “Jackson. Jacksonnnnnn.”

  “Only my mom calls me that.”

  “And me.”

  “And you.”

  “What’s your…” Wow he smells so good. His body is pressed up against my back, and, wait, is that a bulge I feel on my ass?

  After a few seconds, he asks, “Yes?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were about to ask me something.”

  “Oh…um…I forgot.” I take a long sip of my margarita. “Lori, this one is the yummiest yet!”

  My friend gives me a thumbs up from across the bar. “Stop yelling!”

  “Was I yelling? Wait, I remember. What’s your middle name?”

  Chuckling he answers, “Henry.”

  “Jackson Henry. Jackson Henry. Jackson Henry Lair.”

  He places his lips directly on my ear and says, “Ok, zip it.”

  Shit I could do him right here, right now, right on the bar.

  I tilt my head back at the thought and plant a big, wet kiss on his neck. “When you whisper in my ear, it makes me hot!”

  I said that too loud, based on Jack, Evan, Lori, and my dad all gawking at me.

  Screw it. I blatantly ignore them, choosing to enjoy Jack’s body some more. Moving back until I press against him, he groans so only I can hear. His groan jump-starts my groin. In my perfect world scenario, I would be facing the other way and I would be making out with Jack at this exact moment. Even drunk, I’m not that brazen. Instead I snake my hands behind me and grip the back of his thighs.

  “Crap…you’re killing me.” Jack laces his fingers with my hands, the ones that are molesting his thighs, and pulls them forward resting them on my lower back. I have to hand it to him. It’s a brilliant move. I’m now unable to reach my margarita.

  “Release me.”

  “No.”

  I look up at him pout, “You hate me.”

  “I most definitely don’t hate you.” He brings my earlobe in between his lips, tugging before releasing it. My whole body ignites and puts me on the verge of a sexual conniption.

  “Fuck.”

  “Hey, Miss Potty Mouth.”

  By the time the bar empties, and our party comes to an end, I’m horny as hell. Not the tingly, pins and needles, hot flash, kind of horny that I’ve gotten used to. It’s more like the, Fuck I can’t stand it any longer and even the inside of my underwear is turning me on and I’m on fire, kind of horny. Granted, most of it is my own fault. Jack has released my hands, and I don’t know what to do with them. I can touch his hard body some more or relieve my own. I know he’s worked up too. I can still feel his excitement pressing into my backside. A quick trip to the ladies room and I could…

  “I need to go home,” I mumble to no one in particular.

  “You ok?”

  “Huh?” I look up behind me at Jack, again forgetting what I said and wondering why he is laughing.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jack

  Everyone within a ten-foot radius now knows how plastered Leila really is after her outburst that I make her hot. Her dad is the most observant and starts calling for cabs. While angry dialing, he grumps and mumbles under his breath. Most of his words are inaudible.

  “There is no way you guys are driving home,” he mutters to the wall he is facing, as he dials the phone.

  One by one, my friends all assure him they are ok to drive home. After a quick assessment, he releases them. For a second I thought he was going to make them walk a straight line while touching their noses with outstretched arms.

  “I drove here!” Leila yells and follows up with a very loud belch. Laughter rises and causes my chest to shake from trying to hold it in, causing Leila to giggle.

  One minute Evan is serious and contemplative, the next he is hysterical. Leila’s giggling turns into a full blown laughing fit, her entire body shaking uncontrollably, her hands holding my arms that are still circling her. This is better than TV. I’m rarely the sober one in a bunch and it’s very entertaining watching drunken Leila and her friends.

  Leila loses her balance and makes me tighten my grip around her waist to prevent her from falling off the stool. Evan suddenly becomes serious and says to no one in particular, “I couldn’t tell her to cab it. That would’ve ruined the surprise.”

  The look on Evan’s face makes me crack up all over again. Even her dad tries to hide a smile and fails miserably. He turns his back to us and resumes his phone call to the cab service.

  “Mr. Marino, I’ll drive her home. I’m fine.”

  Her dad now judges what state I’m in. I could practically tell what he’s thinking. He’s not going to allow me to drive her home to an empty apartment after watching me touching her in one way or another all night. But after a short moment he relents, “Um… Leila, are you ok with Jack driving you home?” She nods her head up and down, causing Evan to lose it again.

  “Ok, Jack. I’ll be there as soon as I get these boys taken care of. Thank you.”

  Hunter saunters over. “Jack, what are you doing?”

  Ignoring him, I wrap an arm around her waist and help her off the stool and to the door.

  “I luuvv uuu guyyyss.” She calls out waiving at her f
riends. Most of her friends yell good-bye back, except for Evan. He is still hunched over in hysterics.

  “Ok, let’s go party animal.” I walk her out the door.

  Leila leans her body weight against me, mumbling randomly. “Funny…so good…can eat him.” Turning toward my chest, she suddenly sniffs me.

  “Did you just sniff me?”

  “Nooooooo. Nope.”

  She makes me laugh. I love this girl.

  “You’re killing me.”

  “Why do ya keep ssssayeen that?”

  “Cause you are,” I respond, while smiling wide.

  “I jusssssssssssssssst luuuv your Cee Cee Dee Esss smile.”

  “My what?”

  “Huh?”

  Oh boy…this is getting nowhere.

  Getting her to her car, folding her in to the passenger seat, and buckling her seat belt are not easy feats.

  She turns toward me just as I’m snapping in her belt and commands, “Jack…kissssss mmeee.” She has a death grip on my t-shirt, and rubs her nose against my neck.

  No sooner do I pry her fingers off my shirt than I hear her snoring. She’s out cold.

  I’m glad she had fun. She needed this release. She is an adorable drunk. Of course I don’t know what’s going to happen when I wake her up. She may hurl all over me.

  Minutes after leaving the bar, I pull her car up to her apartment. There isn’t parking in front so I have to circle a few times until I find a spot that’s two blocks away. Going to her side of the car and opening her door doesn’t even wake her up.

  Sighing heavily, I reach in to pull her out and get her to a standing position. As she slumps against me, I can feel her soft breasts pressing against my chest. She is complete dead weight. There is no way she will be able to walk two blocks. Doing the only logical thing I can think of, I bend and throw her over my shoulder…still nothing. Tomorrow is not going to be a good day for her. Tequila hangovers suck ass.

  With her bag in my hand, I carry her home on the deserted streets of Hoboken. Thank God the streets are deserted. I look like I’m kidnapping a drugged girl, not to mention her skirt is hiked up exposing her thighs and part of her ass.