“More than anything,” she replies so fucking gentle, taking me out of the memory that we have, that she remembers so differently than me. Yes, I was happy to see her and watch her cheer, but reality once again was slapped across my face. But, again, she shows me with her sweetness who holds her heart, and when she says more than anything, I know I’m the only one that holds it.
She hangs up, and I try not to throw the phone against the damn wall. I’m proud of her and glad she is doing something she loves. But, damn, does she have to teach a Hollywood guy girls drool over? Why couldn’t it have been a little snot-nosed kid?
LESSONS WITH CHILDHOOD POP SENSATIONS
GUITAR IN HAND, Hunter strides in with a smile showcasing his dimple. “Are you ready to see what my hands can do?” he says with a laugh.
Blowing over his suggestive tone, I answer, “I’m ready to see your guitar skills.”
“Oh, trust me, I have a lot of great skills, just need a little help with the guitar.” He plops down next to me in the wide leather chair. “Hi, Shay,” he says it low with wandering eyes.
“Hi, Hunter,” I say shyly back to him as he continues to stare at me. I grew up watching him in the limelight, and I always thought he was a good-looking boy, but now that he’s in front of me in person and I really get to see him up close, the pictures really don’t do him justice. He’s very good-looking.
“You are really very pretty,” he says, rubbing his jaw.
“Thank you, but I’m also very taken,” I reply with absolute seriousness. I don’t care how good-looking Hunter might be, he’s not Jace, and besides my boy’s incredible heart, no one has ever been as beautiful to me as him. Jace is beyond good-looking. He is absolutely breathtakingly handsome. But, I’m not blind, and to sit in a room with the boy that Jules and I used to dance in our underwear to his music is a tad bit intimidating.
“Yes, the boyfriend, who I might add is extremely lucky.”
“I think I’m a pretty lucky girl. So let’s see those guitar skills,” I say, changing the subject. I’m not one to talk about my private life. Jace is my life, and he’s not up for discussion. Hunter drops his boyfriend curiosity and grabs his guitar. I watch as he puts his fingers to the strings and starts to slowly strum. Right away, I notice he might be a confident person in some areas, but he’s lacking it in his guitar skills. His fingers are very tight on the strings, and it doesn’t allow the sound to flow naturally and effortlessly like it should. Jace had the same problem when I first taught him.
I lean over and stop his fingers with mine. He looks up at me, and his brown eyes
stare into my dark blue eyes. He swallows slowly, and I gently lift my fingers away from his. “Your fingers are too tight.” I take his fingers and lightly lay them over the strings and slowly strum. “Can you feel the difference?”
His voice is low, and his eyes are still very much on mine. “I definitely feel something,” he says as I remove my fingers from his. His eyes pull together, and he leans back and shakes his head. “I think we might need to schedule some more lessons.”
“Sure. I think that would be good for you,” I tell him, kind of excited at the idea of having a real student. “Let’s try that again.”
He sits up and puts his fingers back on the strings, and again tight fingers. “Can you show me again?” he says with a devilish grin.
“I think you should try it first, and then I will let you know if you need help.”
“I think we’re going to have to spend some time together, Shay. I have a feeling I might need some special attention.” His tone is suggestive.
I need him as a client, and if he’s willing to pay me to teach him, I’m going to take the time to teach. He needs to take it seriously, though, and right now, I think he’s goofing off. He starts strumming again, and my instinct is to put my fingers over his to stop him.
“Here, watch me.” I grab my guitar and start the first song that always comes to mind. I put my fingers in the starting position and start strumming the song I wrote for Jace. “Do you see how my fingers are flowing lightly over the strings?” I ask, looking up at him as I play.
“Yeah. What is that song? I love the vibe. It’s really pretty.”
“It’s one of my originals.”
“It’s got a really cool, romantic kind of sound.”
“Thank you. It’s very special to me.”
“Did you write it for the boyfriend?”
“It’s the first song I wrote, and, yes, I wrote it for him.”
“Let’s hear the words.”
I shake my head no. “Let’s work on your skills.”
“I’d rather listen to you.”
“You aren’t paying to listen to me, Hunter.”
“I’m paying to spend time with you.”
“To teach you guitar.”
“We can mix business with pleasure, Shay,” he says with a chuckle.
PINK PAINTED FINGERS ON SOMEONE ELSE’S STRINGS
“HOW’S MY GUITAR teacher?”
“I’d be better if I was with my boy.”
I chuckle into the phone. “Yeah, me, too, baby. How did your lesson go?” I ask, leaning down, trying to hear her while a group of guys talk loudly in the distance waiting for the phone. I want to tell them to shut the hell up so I can hear my sweet girl’s voice, but I don’t need the trouble, and Shay doesn’t need to hear me get in any sort of conflict.
“Well, he isn’t as easy to teach as you were, but it went well.”
“Aw, was I a good student?”
“The best student ever, kind of a slow learner, but the best,” she says, finding her happy voice.
“Slow? I wasn’t slow. It’s just… I liked sitting under our tree playing guitar with you.”
“I miss our tree, slow boy,” she whispers.
“I miss those days, too. Staring at you while those little pink painted fingers glided over mine—that was one of my favorite things we did every week together. But, don’t mistake those early lessons as being slow. There is only one thing I do slow, and that’s because I like to do that slow.”
“Jace? Are you talking about—?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Making love to you slowly is always going to be my favorite. But, your boy is a fast learner. I played dumb. I learned those chords pretty quickly. I just wanted your hands on mine every chance I got, so the more my fingers fumbled over the chords, the more you kept teaching me, and, the more I could keep touching you. I loved your hands touching mine.” She gasps loudly into the phone, and I laugh. “I’m just messing with you, Shay. But really, I was a selfish student.”
“No, you weren’t, but I’m not complaining. I loved watching your fingers fiddle with the strings, and I loved touching you, too. You have the sexiest hands ever, sneaky boy.”
I glance down at my hand resting on my thigh. It looks rough and so fucking lonely, missing hers to hold. I thought I’d have a ring on my finger by now, but instead of marrying my girl, I’m sitting in fucking prison. “You think I have sexy hands?” I ask her, swallowing down our deferred dreams.
“I think the moment those sexy hands were placed in mine I knew they would be the only hands I’d ever hold. They’re kind of my favorite hands, ever.”
I tilt my head to the side and close my eyes. “These hands are longing to be entwined with yours. I can promise you that. I love you,” I whisper to her.
“I know that, perfect boy, and I love you more than anything in the entire world.”
“Like your moon and stars kind of love?”
“You will always hold my moon and stars, my forever boy,” she says in a sweet, sad tone.
“Don’t be sad.”
“I’m trying not to, but until you are back in my arms, I can’t help it. I want to be under the moon and stars with you.”
“The day I get out of here, that’s what we’ll do.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah, I promise. You and I under the moonlit sky.”
<
br /> “I can’t wait, Jace.”
“I can’t wait either. The ocean and starlit sky kind of remind me of my girl.”
“They better. You’ve only ever had sand between your feet with me.”
“And, I only ever will.” I chuckle. “Tell me about your lesson with the Hollywood boy.”
“It went well. He paid for a few more lessons, so I guess I wasn’t too bad.”
Great. A few more lessons with Mr. Hollywood. “That’s wonderful,” I say, putting aside my fear for future plans.
“He already has the basics. He just needs to loosen up a bit and focus.”
Focus? He’s probably too busy focusing on my beautiful girl sitting across from him. He better keep his hands to himself. “What do you mean?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair. I’m already uneasy as hell, but I don’t want her to feel that. I want her to be excited about what she’s doing.
“His fingers are tight.”
Right away, I picture when she taught me the first few times at the center, how she guided my fingers over the strings. I can already feel my heartbeat making its way to my neck.
“Did you have to show him how to loosen up or just tell him?” I blurt out.
“Did I show you or tell you, curious boy?”
“You showed me.”
“And, I had to show him.”
“I don’t like you touching anyone else’s hands.”
“I kind of have to if I’m teaching them guitar.”
“I don’t like that part, Shay.”
“I don’t hold his hand, alpha boy.”
“Well, teach him that part quick so your fingers stay on your strings,” I demand calmly. It’s the only tone I have ever given her and the only one I ever will. Shay is absolute love to me, and I don’t ever want to be harsh with my girl. She can’t help our circumstances right now, and I don’t want her to feel bad. But, she’s right when she calls me alpha. I don’t ever want anyone touching what was given to me, and as far as I’m concerned, Shay is heaven sent, made perfectly only for me. “Don’t be sassy. If I could, I’d smack that perfect butt of yours right now. You would be over my knee.” She giggles loudly into the phone.
“I will teach him quickly. I wish you could smack my butt right now because it kind of misses your strong hand,” she whispers. I rub annoyance out of my pulsing neck and try to smile. “I love you, Jace.”
“Endlessly, baby. I love you endlessly.”
And with that, we end the call.
UMM, IT’S DIFFERENT IN REAL LIFE
LOST IN THE PALEST blue eyes and the sexiest, sweetest smile, Jace stares back at me, bare-chested with wet, slicked-back hair. Tears threaten to fall from missing him, but his voice telling me not to be sad keeps my big girl panties in place. I’m just holding on to a picture perfect sunset night when he walks out that prison door.
I gaze at his perfectly sculpted arm draped over my shoulder while he snaps a moment in the sun for us to forever hold on to. I’m framing this one.
“How was your first lesson with Hunter Daniels?”
I look up from my cell phone. Dad is standing in the doorframe. Black slacks and a pale blue dress shirt stare back at me.
“It went well. He’s back for a second lesson, so my teaching skills must be okay.” Rolled up sleeves, my dad stands, arms crossed with the Stark family smile slowly reaching his eyes that perfectly match mine. “He should be here any minute,” I add, glancing one more time at the picture of my boy sitting on my lap.
“What’s so interesting on your phone?”
“Just looking at a picture.”
“How’s he doing?” he asks. I shrug my shoulders.
“He doesn’t ever want me to worry, so as far as I know, he’s fine.”
Dad smiles and taps his hand against the doorjamb. “I’m proud of you, Shay.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I tell him as Hunter walks up behind him. Dressed in dark jeans and a white T-shirt, he reminds me of my boy’s signature style. Dad turns around, and Hunter puts his hand out to shake the big man’s hand. I forget how much influence my dad has in the music business. To me, he is just the sweetest, best dad ever. But, in business, he demands respect.
“Hunter,” Dad says with a firm handshake.
“Steven, nice to see you,” Hunter replies, nodding his head, standing up a little straighter in one of music’s top businessmen’s presence. I suppress a smile. One thing I can say about my boy is, he never showed a lack of confidence in front of my father. Jace has always reminded me so much of my dad—strong, confident, respectful, and so very gentle. Hunter lets go of my dad’s hand and adjusts the baseball cap on his head, lifting it a bit so he can make proper eye contact. Jace would have done that before he even reached my dad. But, that’s my boy. He’s kind of perfect.
“Likewise. Okay, I’ll let you get to work.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, earning a look of approval. I may only have one client, but I think he’s pretty impressed with who that client is.
Dad walks away, and Hunter comes into the studio. “Hey,” he says, shaking his head, getting his dirty blond hair out of his eyes and tucking the loose strands back inside his hat. I rest my hands on my dark skinny jeans, and love stares back at me perfectly placed on my wrist. I swallow down the pain that lives inside due to Jace’s absence and focus on making him proud of me. “I thought we could work on my song,” Hunter says in a low whisper. I look up, and he’s staring at me.
“Okay.”
He puts his guitar on his lap and looks down. I watch, as he seems to concentrate on how his fingers flow over the strings, and when he glances up, his facial expression goes from cocky and flirtatious to a more serious, controlled one. This is Hunter Daniels, the movie star, not the cocky pop star I grew up watching in music videos. I stare at him as he looks intently into my eyes, and when he licks his lips and starts to sing to me, I suck in a little moan.
I NEED TO SEE PINK ON A PAGE
I SCOOT IN THE metal chair and peer down at a blank page. I feel pretty empty right now and missing the hell out of my girl, so I do the one thing I did as a kid while I waited for Wednesday, our meeting day at the community center, to roll around. I grab a pink pen and start drawing little pink hearts on a torn out piece of paper.
I love you… I love you… I love you…in my best handwriting is doodled all over the paper. Then, I fold it over and write her a little love note, letting her know how I feel. I fold it back over and look at the I love you in big, bold letters, and with a spot perfectly left in the middle, I draw my best pink heart, and then take the black pen and write a big J & S in the center. I sit back with a deep sigh, looking up from forever and seeing trouble staring back at me. I won’t screw up.
I slide out of my chair, scraping metal to the floor, and hold on tight to the love letter for my girl. I walk it to the mailroom and set it in the outgoing slot. I stare at it, wondering what the hell my mom is doing. I don’t know why I thought of her, as she obviously has never thought of me. I picture Shay lovingly taking care of the family we want to have someday, and it makes me smile. I know she will be the best mom. I can already picture her making heart-shaped sandwiches for a house full of kids while I sit with them and draw pretty little hearts. Damn, I’m going to have a house full of girls one day. I just know it.
I need boys, too, so I better start drawing Shay blue hearts. The thought fills me with hope and happiness only she can give me. I turn away from the mail I know she will be happy to receive and face scuffed up walls and dirty floors and walk back to metal bars and a room filled with unsatisfied dreams.
PINK HEARTS AND HIS BEST HANDWRITING
Shay,
I remember the day you placed your guitar on my lap, the way you gently placed your small fingers over mine, and the soft tone of your young voice when you told me what to do. I could watch you all day play guitar and sing out of those pretty lips. I’m proud of you, baby, and I’m so happy you taught me how to play. I just wanted you to k
now how I feel.
Love, your boy
I love you… I love you… I love you… stares at me, all bright black surrounded by his signature pretty pink hearts. He even put a J & S in the center of a large reminder that our hearts are always together even when we’re apart. Even through our heartache, he makes sure I feel every bit of his love.
A deep voice has me placing my love note nicely where it belongs. “What’s up, Shay?” Hunter says, walking into the studio. Completely dressed down, he’s in a pair of low jeans and a black T-shirt. He lifts his NY Yankees baseball hat and smiles. “So my fingers hurt from practicing loose fingers.”
“Let’s hear,” I tell him, hoping my teaching skills are taking root. Wasting no time, he sits down and starts strumming the song he is working on. His fingers are looser, and he sounds much better. Thank God. Jace will be happy I’m not placing my fingers next to his again. “Much better.”
“Thanks. You’re a great teacher,” he says, letting his eyes linger on my bare legs. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn my hot pink short romper. But, after my boy sent me so many pink hearts, I just felt like wearing something bright and cheery. “You have the prettiest sun-kissed skin, baby.” The words grip my heart tight.
“Do you want to work on your song?”
“I want to work on you.”
“What?”
He chuckles. “I meant I want to work on yours.”
“My what?”
“Your original,” he says as Jules peeks into the room.
Questionable Love (A Love Beyond Labels #2) Page 13
