by Lux, Vivian
A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah, you think those words are better too, don't you, Lily?"
"They're too… dirty."
"Nothing's too dirty."
"Maybe not to you…"
"You either, Bit." His eyes darted down the page. "Oh my God, 'shaft'? Really? That's what you're calling it?" His hand went to his groin and I realized I was watching way too closely and quickly glanced away. "How about 'cock'? That's a much better word. Better yet, make it a pierced cock, since I remember how you liked that so much."
I ignored his jibe. "I doubt there were many pierced cocks in 19th century England, Jaxson. I was trying for a bit of historical verisimilitude."
"Yeah? Well whatever that means, I think it's too bad. Your Geraldine character seems like she would enjoy a piercing sliding against her G-spot. It would help her reach the… er… 'pinnacle of her pleasure,' faster than this lame-ass Tristan guy gets her."
I suddenly realized something. "Jax, you're like, at the end of the book. It's almost ninety thousand words. Did you even sleep?"
For the first time since I woke up, that cocky little smile slid off of his face. "Nah. Not really."
His beautiful face looked pinched too tight and the bags under his eyes were an angry looking shade of purple. My irritation melted away and I reached for him without meaning to. "Why?"
"I wanted to catch you before you woke up. So we could maybe talk about last night. Before you woke up and stormed off."
Did I say my irritation left? Never mind, it came flooding back in an instant. "Stormed off?" I repeated.
"Yeah, storming off without talking to me. It's kind of your thing," he shot back."
I flopped back down on my pillow. I couldn't believe how quickly he veered from being sweet and sexy to the most annoying person on the planet. "Oh, fuck off," I cried, pinching the bridge of my nose.
I felt him shift, lean forward. "We can, you know. All these things you wrote down…" His voice went lower. "Mmm… such vivid details, Bit. If I had known you were paying such close attention, I would have stepped up my game."
I clapped my hands over my ears. "Shut up!"
He leaned over me. I looked up at him, hovering over my bed. My breath was coming too quickly, my heart beating too rapidly. Realizing I was biting my lip, I licked them instead and his eyes went right to them. "It's given me a few ideas, frankly. How about it? Wanna do some research with me?"
His offer hung there, for one, two, three heartbeats before I finally came to my senses. I reached up and pushed him away. "Oh my God, get the fuck out of my room."
He stood up. "You never even heard why I was here."
"I don't care, get out." I flopped over to my side and waited until I heard the door close before I finally exhaled.
Chapter Sixteen
Jax
I stared at Lily's bedroom door, wondering how the fuck I had just gotten it shut on me again. I stayed up all night and into the late morning, wanting to apologize to her the minute she woke up, and yet somehow, I fucked that up as well.
Dammit, this wasn't happening again. I raised my fist to bang on the door, ready to batter it down if I had to, when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it out of my pocket, ready to hurl it down the hallway when I saw Bev's name. My heart, already in my stomach, splashed right down to my toes.
She was already talking when I pressed the green button. "… studio full of highly skilled, highly paid technicians and musicians, all getting paid to twiddle their thumbs waiting for you to show the fuck up. Where the hell are you, Jaxson?"
"I'm right around the corner," I lied, tearing down the stairs. "Calm down, Bev."
"Calm down? Do you know how much this is costing right now? Get here. Now."
"Yeah, yeah." I was sprinting down the lawn, but I didn't want her to know that. "Go take a Xanax, or something."
She hung up, but not before I heard her distinctly hiss, "Asshole."
I stopped in the middle of the lawn and stared at the phone. I had nothing ready. Bev had handled everything, booking the studio time and the musicians on nothing more than my promise that I'd have the album written by then. Then, meaning now. Today.
Fuck.
Maybe I was the flash in the pan everyone claimed I was. Maybe “Cocky” was an anomaly and I really wasn't a songwriter. Because fuck me if I'd been able to write a decent song since.
Part of me wanted to just skip it. Bail on them all and go get drunk with Annie's roadies. Pussy out and let them believe I sucked. I certainly believed it myself.
But I knew I couldn't do that. I had a reputation to maintain. Ever since “Cocky” dropped, the press wanted to see me swaggering. I wasn't allowed to fail. It would ruin everything.
I grabbed my keys and hopped into the 1985 Ferrari 288 GTO I bought myself with “Cocky” money and had painted a custom shade of electric blue. Like my hair. Image. I'd go to the studio and brazen it out. Fuck, maybe something would come to me on the drive.
Even I knew I was lying to myself. I was a panting wreck by the time I double-parked outside of the studio, a full hour and a half later than I was supposed to be there. Banks was standing on the sidewalk, smoking one of his hand-rolled cigarettes that smelled like dirt. I lifted my chin at him.
"You know, I honestly wouldn't give a fuck, since I get paid either way," he said coolly, letting a wreath of smoke billow around his head. "It's the fact that I have to show up to get paid." He stubbed out his cigarette against the building. "Must be fucking nice."
"Oh, give it a rest, Banks. You might think you're better than me, but who the hell is paying your bills right now, hmm?" The keyboardist my label had hired still clung to his classical training like it meant something in this world.
"Whatever. I turned down a pretty big name for this, Blue. I just want to get to work."
Bev was on the other side of the door. "You ready?" she asked crisply.
"Whaddya got for us, Blue?" Toad hopped up from the sofa in the lounge, his bass flopping around dangerously.
"Were you finalizing, or something?" Casper asked. He was trying to cover for me. I could tell. "That's why you were late?"
I nodded. "Absolutely."
"Well, everybody is ready to get down to work, Jaxson. Ready when you are."
I nodded again, feeling like I was moving upstream… or maybe caught in the undertow, the current dragging me toward that sound-proof booth with nothing to sing. I searched my head, wracking my brain for some little snippet to pull from the noisy static… but there was nothing there except a door shut in my face.
Chapter Seventeen
Liliana
Jaxson didn't come home last night.
I wished I didn't know this, but I did. I would have heard him if he had, because I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, writing like my fingers were on fire.
I wrote down exactly how the kiss felt, the press of his lips against mine, how they parted without my meaning to. How I sagged into him like I lost the ability to stand. How the bottom of my stomach dropped out like I was on a roller coaster and pleasure that was close to physical pain coursed out from every touch of his fingers on my skin. That's all that happened in the hallway—just a kiss—but on the page I was free to let it go further, just the way my body had wanted. On the page, I was licking and sucking a trail of kisses down his bare, glistening chest while his blue eyes never left mine—ah, fuck.
I swore I could feel his lips on mine a day later, like he had burned or bruised me. But that was ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous; he was going to be my fucking stepbrother in two weeks. I should fucking know better, but the minute I saw him, all of my carefully laid defenses fall apart.
I sat up from my laptop like it had scalded me. I needed to nip this train of thought in the bud. With my mind made up, I changed out of my schlubby clothes and emerged from my room.
"Mornin', Lil," Diggs croaked over his coffee. His big body was perched ludicrously on the small stool at the breakfast b
ar. "Didja sleep well?"
"Coffee?" I croaked back. My throat felt raw and hoarse with disuse.
"I'll take that as a no." His ruined face crinkled into a wide smile and he slid off the stool and patted it. "Have a seat."
"Thanks," I whispered and settled into the stool, grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl across from me. "How about you? Did you sleep okay?"
"Like a baby," Diggs chuckled, grabbing the coffee pot. "Doctor's got me on these new pain meds and they knock me the fuck out."
"Your hand looks good!" I suddenly noticed.
"Yeah?" He smiled proudly, gripping the coffee pot in his right hand and extending his arm straight out at the shoulder. "Can barely see it anymore, can you?"
There was a ghost of a tremor, but that was it. "Wow, that's a whole lot better. You're barely shaking at all."
"Grip's stronger, too."
"You finally found a doctor who doesn't have his head up his ass?" I accepted the mug gratefully and cupped my hands around it."
Diggs leaned against the counter. "New guy, young, barely out of diapers. Hell, he might be your age." I swatted him and he chuckled. "Doesn't seem right to call him ‘Doctor’ since he's barely old enough to shave, but he listens and he's willing to try new things. Turns out I had nerve damage in my wrist, of all the shit luck." He shook his head ruefully. "Falling off rigging will fuck you up pretty properly, you know, but no one took the time to really figure up how properly. He's the one that discovered the nerve damage that caused the tremor in the first place. Everyone else wanted to believe there was something wrong with my head."
"Well, there is something wrong with your head," I teased.
"Ooh, good burn. Where'd you learn to roast a guy like that?"
I grinned at him. "From the best."
"Damn straight," he puffed proudly. "Now how's my girl?"
I sipped my coffee and considered. "Really fucking confused, Diggs."
"Yeah? About what."
"Pick a topic."
"Heh, yeah, being young sucks that way."
"How would you know?" I smiled.
"Little shit. I was young once, you know. I remember how it felt."
"Did your dad suddenly decide to get married when you were nineteen?"
Diggs inhaled deeply. "Nah. Never had that to deal with, thankfully."
"What the hell, Diggs?"
He shook his head. "Guess they figured it was time."
"It just seems so… out of the blue."
"Well, you know Annie; that's how she works. Makes a decision one day, and suddenly, that's how things are going to be forever more. My guess is that she woke up one day and told Nails to either get a ring or get the fuck out. And we both know your dad ain't going anywhere."
"No." I shook my head. It was true. For all his faults, my father loved Annie—worshipped her, even. "Guess you're never too old to change the path you're on."
Diggs raised his one good eyebrow. "Listen to you, all philosophical. You're too smart to be hanging around the likes of me."
"Shut up." I smiled, pride pinkening the tips of my ears. "I like hanging around you. You're not an arrogant asshole."
Diggs smirked. "I'm guessing you're talking about someone in particular?"
"I plead the Fifth."
"He got worse when you left, you know," Diggs confided. I looked up sharply. That wasn't what I was expecting to hear. "No, it's true. Jax and your dad got into this huge-ass argument right after you left for New York. None of us heard what he was saying, but we could hear the crashing and we saw the broken furniture afterward. Ever since then, he's been a real little shit to deal with… I mean, more so than normal. Annie was really hoping you coming home would settle him back down again."
I slowly sipped my coffee, hoping like hell that my pounding heart wasn't as loud as it was in my ears. My dad and Jax had fought? About me? He wasn't supposed to know—no one was supposed to know about what had happened, about Jax and I getting together. No one was supposed to know why I left. I had announced that I was eighteen and ready to strike out on my own and that was that, they had accepted it. I had cut ties, cleanly and easily, or so I thought.
"Well it isn't working," I said lightly, or so I hoped. "He came home drunk the other night. Said some stuff…"
"Ah, shit. Sorry about that, Lily. He can be really mean when he's drunk, takes after his mother that way. The two of them drunk together… boy, batten down the fucking hatches."
I flashed back to the broken chair, Jax and his mother staring each other down, each ready to draw blood and my heart did a funny sideways flop. "Must make for interesting dinners around here."
Diggs shrugged. "Nah, we're used to it. Hell, I used to wipe that kid's ass. I watched him grow up in all this craziness. He's a good one, if you look past the surface. Way, way past the surface."
A noise in the doorway made us both look up. "Mornin'," Jax rumbled, rubbing his hair as he walked into the kitchen.
I had no idea how much he had heard. His face was impassive, his eyes bloodshot and still at half-mast. The knuckles on his right hand were still scraped and reddened, and seeing them gave me a small, private shiver.
"Mornin'," Diggs said calmly. "You just get home?"
"Yep."
"Did you take an aspirin?"
"Yep," Jax said, reaching for a coffee mug. His rumpled sweatpants were slung low across his waist and he wasn't wearing a shirt. I tried my best not to look at the rivers of ink that spilled across his broad back, but they were so intricate and detailed that I had to.
A parade of animals marched across his lower back, wolves and tigers and lions ready to snarl and pounce. Winding up from the menagerie was a tangle of thorns twining upward into a profusion of roses, deep red and dangerous as they opened up into blooms across his shoulders. When he turned to the side, I saw they continued onto his biceps, the dark red fading into brilliant blue as the roses morphed into something else.
I was squinting, leaning forward in my stool. If he would just turn, I could make out the rest of the tableau. "Jax?" I said, in spite of myself.
"Yeah?" he turned and faced me and I saw it: the blue lily emblazoned down his shoulder and onto his left pec.
A lily.
"Uh, can you grab the sugar bowl for me?" My mouth was completely dry.
He narrowed his eyes at me. I licked my lips and tried to look innocent, staring past him to the cabinets and clicking my nails against the granite counter.
"Sure." He smiled lightly and brushed his hand over his chest. Right over the lily. And that's when I knew he had seen me staring. He set the bowl down in front of me. "Here you go, Lily."
Chapter Eighteen
Jax
My tattoo artist had raised his pierced eyebrows when I told him what I wanted. "Are you sure, dude? It's not really fitting with the rest of the piece."
"It's a flower. You can make it work," I’d told him grumpily and laid back in his chair. He had sighed and started up the buzz of the needle and I closed my eyes as he tattooed a lily over my heart.
Did I regret getting it? Not really. Most of my tats were impulsive—fleeting notions that got under my skin. Of all of them, at least the lily meant something. I had never really given that meaning much thought until right now as I watched Lily's startled face take it in.
She knew exactly what it meant to me.
But what did it mean to her?
"You going to be around later?" Diggs piped up. "Your mom's got a list of things she needs done."
"Nah," I told him, still staring at Lily. "I got a show tonight, man. Need to rest up."
Lily looked even more startled.
"Ah, shit, man. I'm sorry. Completely slipped my mind."
I sipped my coffee. "No big deal," I told him breezily.
"You want me to stop by?"
"Nah, it's nothing. I'll see you later, Diggsy." I headed out of the kitchen.
"Later, man."
I mounted the stairs, waiting. Half of me wonder
ed if I had fucked things up too badly, worrying that maybe she wouldn't follow me, wouldn't ask any questions. I've always been an asshole, but she had me feeling actually bad about it. It's one thing to joke around, it's another to say something to deliberately cut another person down.
But the pad of a bare foot on the living room floor made me smile in spite of myself. Yeah, I was an asshole to her. But she was a curious little kitten and wasn't about to let me get away without explaining my tattoo.
"Hey, Jax?" she called up the stairs.
"Yeah."
"Can I talk to you?"
I turned to look at her. "Why would you want to do that?" I was being honest. I really didn't know.
She stopped and bit her lip. "You're right. I really don't want to," she said frostily.
"But you're going to anyway."
"I just wanted to know something."
"What is it, Lily?"
She ducked her head. "So, it is for me?"
"What is?"
Her eyes smoldered. "Are you really going to make me ask the question? You know what I'm talking about."
I tapped my pec. "Puppy love and teenage hormones," I snarled. "That's all it was." I turned and headed for my room.
Her little feet pounded across the hallway floor, and I suddenly found myself yanked away from my door. I was surprised by her strength, but I was more surprised to see that she didn't let go of my wrist as she hissed at me, "You're a piece of fucking work, you know that? This?" She stabbed me in the chest with her bitten fingernail. "This was not on your chest when I was with you. Which means you got it after I left. Why?"
Two spots of color flamed on her cheeks and I could see the pulse on her neck. Everything inside of me wanted to pull her to me, to press my lips to that throb, trace a line of sucking kisses down to her perfect breasts. "Because," I told her truthfully, "at least this Lily is in my life permanently."
Her breath caught just as my lips found hers, so I wasn't sure if it was my words or the kiss that startled her. I snaked my hand under her hair and cupped the back of her head, loving the way she fit in my hand as I drank her in as deeply and fully as she would allow.
