“I already have,” Paul snapped. “This is my sixth year of doing this, Jag. Cut your shit and trust me. Unless you’d rather hire another PI.”
“You know you’re the only person I trust. Just fucking find her.” I stabbed the end button and ignored the gawking reflections of the guys behind me as I swung open the door. I took my cover off and locked my anger in a box like it belonged to someone else, because it did. “Hey, Alice.”
The aging librarian smiled. “Hi there, Lieutenant Bateman. We sure have been missing you round here.”
“I have actually missed being here. I went to put some furniture together this week and realized I’d left my tool bag here.” The night I kissed Paisley.
“Well, you just hop on back there and grab it.”
“Thank you, Alice.” I took the steps two at a time and walked to the storage room. The study alcoves were nearly empty, and the door to the storage room was propped open. My bag still sat on the worktable. I picked it up and took a look around the room with a healthy dose of pride. We’d done this, taken a huge mess and transformed it into something useful, needed. The excess books were organized neatly, no doubt Paisley’s work.
“Don’t you, forget about me,” she sang, dancing into the storage room, and every muscle in my body froze. Her arms full of books, she kicked the door closed and kept singing. She had earbuds in and scooted past, her back to me. She tried to be careful, but the books tumbled out of her hands onto the center table. She swung her hips along to the music. Her jeans highlighted every curve, hugging her ass like a wet dream, and her fitted sweater was a shade darker than her eyes.
Finally. After two weeks, I felt like I could breathe. The rush of sweet oxygen filled me, and I watched her for a few seconds more, pretending she wanted me there…pretending she wanted me at all.
Her silence since the kiss spoke volumes.
“Will you— Oh my gosh!” she shrieked as she caught me watching her. One tug of the cord, and the earbuds fell out. “Jagger! How long have you been there?”
I grinned, so damn happy to be near her. “Long enough to guess that you’ve been watching The Breakfast Club.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I may have had a John Hughes marathon this last week.”
“It shows.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears, and my hands itched to run the strands through my fingers. “So…” she mumbled, leaning against the table.
The table I’d kissed her on. “So…” I tried to think of anything but the sound of her whimpers when I stroked the roof of her mouth with my tongue. Well, shit, now that was all I could think about.
“Thank you for the flowers,” she said quietly.
I ran my tongue across my teeth, but my stud was out, since I was in uniform, and it didn’t have the same calming effect. “You mean the ones I’ve left on your doorstep every day?”
She held my stare. “Yes, those. They’re beautiful.”
“So are you.”
“Jagger—”
“Just don’t, Paisley. I got the message loud and clear. I really don’t think I can handle any more rejection. Not being there the day after? Yeah, I can understand that, but fuck, I’ve managed to have civil conversation with Carter, but you won’t see me?” Not that it had been pleasant, but we’d come to a decent agreement to leave the personal shit outside the aircraft. Neither of us could afford for our scores to drop because we couldn’t manage to be professional.
“I was gone most of it.”
“In Birmingham?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, Morgan told me.”
“She did?” She rubbed her fingers across the center of her chest—her nervous tell.
“Yeah, said you and your mom were off mending your broken heart or something.” I twisted my cover in my hand. “I didn’t mean to wreck your relationship, or you. It just…happened. I swear it wasn’t premeditated. Not that I hadn’t thought about it, because kissing you seems to be all I think about when I get around you, but that night…”
“Don’t,” she begged, her eyes shutting tight. “That night…I’ve never felt…” Her shoulders slumped. “What I did, kissing you, that was wrong.”
Fuck. Twist the knife a little more.
“Not because I didn’t want it. I think we both know there’s something here. But I’ve never betrayed someone. I hate what I did to Will, when he’s done nothing but try to take care of me.”
“I understand.” I set the tool bag on the table.
“But you can’t. Not really. Maybe one day you’ll understand what he’s done for me.” She covered her face with her hands.
I gently pulled them away. “Don’t blame yourself for this. I’m the one who kissed you.”
Our eyes locked, and there it was again, that electric current that shot from my heart, through my dick, until it anchored in my very soul. “I wanted you to. I knew the entire time we were friends that it was dangerous, that I was attracted to you.”
My stomach jumped. “Was?”
“Don’t be stupid, Jagger. Of course I’m still attracted to you. You look like”—she scanned her eyes over my body—“that. Every woman with a pulse is going to be attracted to you.”
A corner of my mouth quirked up. “There’s only one pulse I’m concerned with, and she doesn’t seem to want me.”
We stood in a stalemate for more breaths than I could count, gauging each other’s reactions, both uncertain of what to say next.
“I can’t be with you.”
Fuck, that hurt. It would have doubled me over if I hadn’t been holding her hands. I stroked my thumbs over her soft skin. “You’re going to have to give me a reason.”
She pulled her hands away, like she’d just now noticed that I held them. “You have no idea what you’re getting into with me. I’m not…” She played with her watch, sliding it along her wrist. “Jagger, I’m not a good idea for you.”
“I’m not really a walk in the park, either.” I forced a smile. “Underneath this handsome yet mysteriously inked exterior is someone who doesn’t trust anyone or anything. You don’t know everything about me, either. I’d say you and I are pretty well matched.”
“As friends.”
“That’s all you want.” Tell me I’m wrong. Please.
She gripped the edge of the counter. “That’s all I can give you.”
Fuck. I locked my jaw and nodded once, not because I was okay with it, but because it was the only motion I was capable of making. There was nothing I could say that wouldn’t come out like begging, and I refused to beg a woman whose mind was already made up. I’d learned that lesson a long time ago.
I took my tool bag and got out of there as quickly as possible, ignoring when she called my name in a soft, morose sigh.
What the hell. I’d stood up to my father, carved a life for myself, and yet I was literally running away from a pint-sized blonde who didn’t have a mean bone in her body.
I threw the tool bag unceremoniously into the truck and speed-dialed Josh.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Gym.”
The other side was quiet for a couple breaths. “I’ll grab Masters and meet you there.”
“Okay.”
“Jagger, don’t hit anything until I get there.”
“Yeah.” I hung up, carefully placing my cell phone in the cup holder so I didn’t hurl it through the window.
The drive was short, and the hard rock blasting through my speakers did nothing to quell the absolute rage boiling within me. I threw Lucy into park, grabbed my just-in-case gym bag, and headed inside.
Josh entered the locker room, Masters on his heels, as I was lacing my shoes, ready to go. They were both already dressed for the workout.
“Ready?” Josh asked.
I didn’t have to say anything. We walked toward the punching bag, and Masters took off to the weights. The guy was massive for a reason.
Josh held the bag, and after my hands were wrapped, I slammed my fists into it. Hit by hit, t
he vibrations sang up my arms, releasing the anger, the hurt, the frustration. After a few minutes, my heart pounded, the tightness in my chest eased, and my punches slowed.
“This have anything to do with the peonies in your car?”
I hit the bag again. “She wants to be friends. Just friends.” I punched between each word. “Friends don’t kiss like that.”
“Ouch.” He waited a couple more hits. “What are you going to do about it?”
I stopped, my chest heaving. “What the hell can I do about it? Beg?”
“Yes.”
I scoffed at him. “Right. So I can humiliate myself while she rejects me again. No fucking way.”
“Then you don’t deserve her.”
I stepped into the punch, throwing my full weight behind it. The momentum took Josh over, slamming him into the mat. Shit. Before I could apologize, he stood and took hold of the bag, ignoring that I’d just knocked him on his ass.
“You’d beg? Seriously rip yourself open and beg?”
“Did you not see the shit I crawled through for Ember?” He looked at me like I was an idiot.
He had a point.
“Jag, the good ones are worth begging, pleading, and basically mutilating your heart over.”
My laugh bordered on self-deprecating. “I don’t know why the hell I’m so pissed. Honestly, it’s for the best. This is what I wanted, right? I have jack and shit to offer her.” I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “I don’t have anything left of a heart to mutilate.”
“Bullshit. That hurt you’re feeling? That fear that she meant it, that you can’t talk her out of it? That’s what you need to hold on to. The anger is going to get you nowhere.” He grinned. “Besides, I remember someone buying me a pair of knee pads and telling me to suck it up and take as much as Ember could dish out for however long she needed to get her shit together.”
I hit the bag again, focusing on technique and not blind anger. “Yeah, well, everyone but you saw the way she looked at you, the way you two basically orbited around each other. But not everyone is you and Ember.”
Josh pulled the bag out of my reach, effectively stopping my punches, and waited for me to look at him. “Don’t be fucking stupid. It took me all of half a second to pick up on the vibe you two put out at the library. Let alone the ice rink, the bar, you name it. So take your own medicine. Suck it up and swallow as much as Paisley can dish out for however long she needs to get her shit together. Don’t beg her, convince her. She’s not Anna, Jag. She’s not going to walk out on you.”
He might as well have punched me. I blinked. I hadn’t thought to compare the two women, but with the shit going on with Anna…yeah, it bled all over Paisley.
“You two girls done already?” Grayson asked, walking over. “I need a spot.”
“You go ahead. I need to find some knee pads.” I walked off the mat feeling like I’d dropped fifty pounds on it.
Now I only needed to convince Morgan to help me.
Chapter Sixteen
Paisley
9. Celebrate my twenty-first birthday.
This week’s breakfast had been exchanged for a Saturday night dinner, since Daddy had been TDY in Washington most of the week. The bad thing about dinner? There was no specific end time. Breakfast was simple, a little hey, I have to get to class, and I could escape. Dinner? Not so much.
I rinsed the last plate and slid it into the dishwasher. “That should do it for the dishes.”
“Swore he’d be home by six, today of all days,” Mama mumbled to herself.
“Oh, it’s no big deal. We both know he’d be here if he could. I’m really not mad.” It wasn’t the first birthday he’d missed, and it wouldn’t be the last. Luckily I was old enough to understand that the good of the many outweighed the need of a few.
“Well, can I take you to a movie or something?”
I stifled a smile. There was nothing Mama hated more than going to a movie theater. She ran for hills the first time her shoes came in contact with a spilled soda. “No, ma’am. This was just perfect.”
She gave me a soft smile. “It’s so nice to have you close.”
My cell phone alerted me with a text, and I dried my hands on the hanging towel. A quick swipe of my finger, and Jagger’s name appeared on my screen.
Jagger: A little mouse might have said that it’s your birthday.
I bit into my lower lip to keep from letting out a squeal of delight. Friends. We were friends again. That was the deal I’d offered, and I guess he was taking it. It didn’t matter that I wanted more. I would only hurt him—distract him—and I could never let that happen.
Me: It sure is.
Jagger: Want to go have a real 21st birthday?
Me: What makes you think I’m not already having a huge, mind-blowing party?
Jagger: Because you didn’t invite me, so it couldn’t possibly be a good party.
“Who’s making you smile like that?” Mama hung up her apron and turned her inquisitor eyes on me.
Dang it. “A friend, Mama.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I ignored the tone of her voice. She knew something was wrong between Will and me, but I hadn’t told her we’d broken up. Since we’d spent over a week in Birmingham between scheduled and rescheduled tests, she’d let me off the hook. Well, at least until the results were in. Until then I had 143 days—and I was going to use every one of them.
Luckily, I’d Skyped into class, or my GPA would probably be circling the drain.
Me: Maybe I’m in the middle of a raging rave right now.
Jagger: Yeah, I heard your mom really knows how to throw down.
Me: How would you know?
The dogs barked a heartbeat before the doorbell sounded. “You have to be kidding me.”
Mama raised her eyebrows at me as she headed for the door. “Are you expecting company? It’s about time Will came around.”
“No, Mama—”
I made it to the entry hall when she opened the door. “Oh. Morgan. It’s lovely to see you.”
Wait. What? “Morgan?” Hopefully my voice didn’t sound as disappointed as I felt.
“There you are! Let’s go, birthday girl!” She tugged me out the door. I barely managed to grab my handbag off the entry hall table. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Donovan!”
“You too, dear. Lee…”
“Yes, I’ll take my meds!” I answered, laughing while I tried not to trip over my own feet as Morgan tugged me down the stairs. “Morgan, what on earth are we doing?” We skidded around the front porch, and I gasped as the driveway came into view. Lucy. Jagger.
He leaned against the yellow paint job, his baseball hat on backward, wearing jeans I wanted to peel off and a fitted Dropkick Murphys shirt. Just friends. No, I could not spontaneously lick his abs to see if he really tasted as good as he looked.
Then he smiled, and I remembered the urgent press of his lips with mine, the way he whispered my name. I swallowed and played my friends-only mantra through my head. “Jagger?”
“Get in, Little birthday Bird.”
Morgan skipped ahead of me and opened the back door, since I saw that Masters already occupied the passenger side. “Where are we going?”
“Does your list say anything about unexpected journeys?”
“I’m not a hobbit.”
He pushed off Lucy and walked toward me. A breath of space separated his hand from my cheek before he thought better of it and put it down. “Well, how about I promise that you can check a box off your list if you get in the car? If what I’ve got planned isn’t on it, then you pick something, and we’ll check it off.”
“Friends?” I needed that line clearly delineated.
“Fucking knee pads,” he muttered, closing his eyes briefly.
“What?”
“Yes, I even brought Masters and Morgan as chaperones.”
“I’m not really dressed for anything…” I looked down at my simple, fitted V-neck tee, infinity scarf, and ballet flats.
“You look incredible. Now get in the car.”
I went.
Nearly two hours later, the bouncer smiled at me and said, “Happy birthday,” as he tagged my wrist with a green band.
I grinned and showed off my prize to Morgan, who rolled her eyes. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Paisley Lynn.”
“I still can’t believe you got us tickets.” The opening band was on stage as Jagger wound us through the small arena in Panama City. Dropkick Murphys. Incredible.
“When I saw they were coming, I couldn’t pass it up.” We grabbed drinks at the concession stand, then made our way down the steps of the arena. “You sure just water?”
“Yeah, just water.” Alcohol was a giant no-no, which just about frosted my cookies tonight. What was the use of turning twenty-one if I couldn’t have a single drink on my birthday?
“Sober on your twenty-first. It’s a crime.”
“I like to break stereotypes,” I answered as we came closer to the stage. “Where are our seats? Did we pass them?” He led me forward until the front row was all that was left. “No way. No way!” I jumped a little and threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you!”
His arms wound around my back. “Only the best for the birthday girl.” His lips grazed my ear before I withdrew.
We found our seats as the band took the stage, but I was out of it the minute they started to play. I lost myself with nothing between me and the music, and Jagger next to me. I sang along with every song until my voice was hoarse, the energy in each verse winding me higher and higher until I felt invincible.
It was perfect, and then it was over.
Jagger took my hand and led me through the crowd on the way out. Once we cleared the bottleneck at the doorway, he dropped my hand, and I frowned at my own disappointment.
“Well?” He held Lucy’s door open for me.
“That was amazing!” My face hurt from smiling so much. “The perfect birthday, thank you!”
“Ready to head home?”
Energy hummed through me. “Is there anywhere we could go down here to dance?”
Eyes Turned Skyward Page 14
