“Claire? Claire?” Tony says.
“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Nothing. Do you want another beer?” he asks.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Tony gets up, takes my cup out of my hand, and walks over to crowd around the keg again. I see Jason stop near the edge of the roof, separating himself from Ben and Alana. He has his guitar case slung over his shoulder. It takes all of my restraint not to rush over to him. He scans the crowd, and his eyes meet mine with a look of recognition and relief. When our gazes lock, he walks toward me, his pace determined.
I try to get to my feet in spite of my suddenly week knees, when I see Lydia burst through a group of people. She grabs both of Jason’s shoulders and turns him to face her. She stands on her tiptoes to look at his eyes, and then brushes his cheek with her thumb. He pushes her hand away. Lydia folds her arms and gives him a piece of her mind, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. She wags her finger at him, and I hear her raise her voice. Jason looks at his feet and Lydia reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek and stroking his hair. She steps back, and he nods at whatever she’s saying. She hands him a beer and returns to Ben and Alana.
Jason sits down on the roof with his knees on his elbows, and lights a cigarette with a flick of his Zippo. Watching this man smoke is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. I want to make whatever pain he’s feeling disappear. I begin to walk over to him and he looks up at me as I approach. I smile and try to hide my excitement over seeing him. He raises his hand to wave and just as I am raising my hand to wave back, Tony runs up to me and thrusts my full beer at me. It spills on my exposed cleavage.
“Oh, shit. Um, thanks, Tony.”
“Oh no! Shit, I’m sorry. I spilled it.” He makes a move to wipe the beer from my chest and I grab his wrist with my free hand, stopping him before his fingers can touch my skin.
“I’ve got that. It’s fine, really.” I wipe the beer from my skin and when I look up I see Jason looming over Tony, his fists balled and his jaw clenched.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason asks.
Tony steps back, putting his free hand up in a gesture of innocence. “I spilled her beer. Relax, man.”
“Don’t tell me to relax, and don’t fucking touch her.” He’s practically growling at Tony.
I touch Jason’s elbow to calm him down. “Jeez, Jason, it’s okay.”
His gaze doesn’t leave Tony’s face. “It’s most definitely not okay, Claire.”
Tony stares at me and I try to apologize to him with my eyes. He shakes his head and turns to go. “I’ll see you around.”
Only after Tony has disappeared into the crowd does Jason look at me. He has a bruise under his eye and it’s swollen. His eyebrow is crusted over with blood and his shirt is stained with it.
“What happened?” I bring my hand up to touch his eye. He doesn’t stop me, but winces as my fingertips make contact with the bruise. I withdraw my hand and stare at him as I await an explanation.
“It’s nothing. Just a drunk local at Alexa’s. He was messing with some girls, and I had to set him straight. Don’t worry about it. Listen, I’m sorry but I don’t like your friend. I don’t want him touching you like that.” He looks down at my body. “What are you wearing? Fuck, you look beautiful.”
He grabs the small of my back and presses me into him. I feel the breath rush out of me. I want to kiss him, but I also want him to know I don’t need to be protected. “Listen, Tony didn’t touch me. I stopped him. I can take care of myself. You didn’t need to get so angry.”
He steps back. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He turns and walks away.
I open and shut my mouth several times, wanting to stop him, wanting to call him back, but knowing it’s not a good idea. I sit down on the blanket and hug my knees. Kat and Kai come over to sit with me. Jason is standing on the other side of the roof, alone.
Some girls approach him, and I hear one of them shriek. “Jason, you have to play something. You have your guitar and everything! Everyone wants to hear you play.”
He acquiesces, nodding at her and looking to me again, but the eye contact is brief. He sits down on a milk crate just a few feet away from me, unzips his case, takes his guitar out and drapes the strap over his shoulder. I’m fixated on the way his body moves, his muscles tense and release.
The shrieking girl announces that Jason’s going to play, and the dark silhouettes begin to merge forward together—some sit, some remain standing. My heart rate speeds up as he tunes his guitar. He fondles the neck and strums it, as he checks to make sure it’s in key. He looks to me again, and this time his gaze holds mine for what feels like forever. I feel my chest rise and fall in anticipation of hearing him sing. He licks his lips, clears his throat and addresses the forming crowd.
“This is a song for an angel.” His fingers begin to work, pressing chords and plucking strings. I recognize the melody as Jason begins to sing.
His voice is like crushed velvet. I’m entranced. I hear desperation in his voice, and it pinches at my heart. Every time I hear him sing it draws me in further. I know I can’t keep my promise to Lydia. The urge to be near him overwhelms me. I walk over to where he sits. He arrives at the chorus of the song and before I know what I’m doing, I open my mouth, and sing with him.
His eyes open, confused until they lock with mine. Then gratitude fills his expression, and a dazzling smile spreads across his face as we sing. Our voices form a perfect harmony, and a look of pleasant surprise creeps onto Jason’s face. He shakes his head, I suppose in awe of the fact that I can sing. My gaze has not yet left his as our voices blend, rough and sweet. I see the familiar, tortured look return to his face, and I’m so happy he’s letting me share this with him. He finishes the song, but his body language doesn’t match the soft sounds that come out of his instrument. As he strums the last note, he stands and steps toward me. As he gets closer I see overwhelming passion in his eyes.
In one motion he grabs my hand and pulls me to him. He cradles my head in his hands as he kisses me. His tongue is warm and he commands my lips with his. I melt against him and my body expresses everything I can’t say out loud to him. I’m aware that every eye on the roof is focused on us, but I don’t care. In this moment, he’s mine. I hear faint applause coming from the crowd, but my fuzzy brain barely registers it. I’m floating above everything, distant from everyone except Jason. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles his nose into my hair.
I’m suddenly overcome with embarrassment over our very public display. I look to my left and see Ben wink at me, and right next to him is Lydia. She shakes her head and wipes at her eye, but she’s smiling. I look at Jason’s amazing face. He smiles and takes my hand.
“Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”
We climb down from the roof and Jason’s hand never leaves mine as he guides me toward whatever it is he wants me to see.
“Did you talk to Lydia?”
“Yes. I went to her studio. She told me she thought I was using you. I told her that’s not what this is. She’s cool with it now. With us.”
“I like it when you say that.”
He smiles. “So, you can sing.” He speaks to me over his shoulder as we walk through the streets. I’m absorbed in the way my hand feels in his. It’s both exciting and frightening.
“Yes, but I never do.”
He stops and turns to me. He lets go of my hand and brushes my cheeks with his thumb. The corner of his mouth turns up into a grin, and the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
“You know, that’s really a shame Claire—robbing the world of that gift. It’s very selfish of you.” He tilts his head and brushes his lips over mine.
I’m startled by the sound of heels on concrete as someone approaches and speaks. “Well, fuck me. A new girl of the week.”
Jason doesn’t turn around, or look away from me. “Skye,” he says. His irritation breaks through h
is attempt at greeting her. He kisses the tip of my nose before turning to face her, slips his hand into mine, and positions his body like a shield, offering me protection from whatever she has planned. Her face is shadowed, and a streetlight eerily illuminates her mane of hair.
“Is he fucking you, you little bitch? Don’t get used to it. His dick gets bored easily.”
She’s obviously drunk, but her words assault me, touching on thoughts I’ve been trying to avoid. I clear my throat to respond to her, but I don’t get the chance.
“Don’t talk to her like that. You don’t know what’s going on, so just leave it alone.”
She moves closer to make her way past us and her face emerges from the shadows. She looks as if she hasn’t eaten or slept. She brings her hand up to Jason’s shoulder and puts her mouth to his ear.
“You want me to leave it alone, do you? That’s fine. Anything for you, Jason.”
She gives me a look that makes me shiver and slams her shoulder into me as she walks past us toward Pen.
“I’m sorry about that,” Jason says quietly. “I didn’t want that to happen. Things didn’t end well with her.”
I want to hear his explanation, but I also want to get the hell out of here. “Can we just talk about it later?”
“All right. Are you okay?” He takes my hand again.
“Yeah.” I lie.
I need to know what Jason’s intentions are here, and I want to hear it from his mouth—no one else’s. We arrive at Jason’s car and he opens the passenger door to the Charger. He shuts it behind me, and I take a deep breath. His scent wraps around me. He puts his guitar in the back seat and slips into the driver’s side. When he turns the key, music blares out of his speakers. He turns the volume down and laughs.
“Sorry.”
“Are you okay to drive?”
“I’d never attempt to drive if I wasn’t okay. I wouldn’t play with your life like that. We’re not going far, and I’m not drunk.”
“Okay.”
He shifts into gear, and we pull down Calyer toward McGuiness. “Did you know we don’t live far from LaGuardia?”
“No, but that explains the noise and the low flying planes.”
“Yeah, you can hear them from my apartment sometimes. You’ll get used to it.”
“Wait. Are we flying somewhere?”
He throws his head back laughing. “No, no, no. It’s a surprise, Claire. Don’t ruin it.” He lifts his hand and places it at the base of my neck, gently rubbing with his thumb and forefinger.
We turn onto the Long Island Expressway, and Jason shows me just how fast the Charger can go. Once I’m thoroughly terrified, we take an airport exit and pull into a parking lot. Jason drives as far as he can until we reach the deserted end of the lot and parks near a chain-link fence. The bruise under his eye is darker and more swollen than when I first saw him.
“I’m sorry about your face. Not everything needs to be resolved with violence.”
“The guy was acting like an asshole. I set him straight.”
“Why did you and Skye break up?” I blurt out. I can’t wait any longer for the answer to this question.
He lets out a sigh and rubs his hand over his jaw. “I broke it off with her because I realized she wasn’t the person I wanted to be with. I’d like to be honest with you, Claire. I can’t explain why because we only just met, but I just feel like you get me, and I’ve never felt that…ever. I broke up with Skye as soon as I met you.”
I don’t know what to say. His words hang heavy in the air. He’s waiting for me to speak, and I can’t.
“I’ve been going through the motions for a long time—with family, with friends—but it’s different with you. I don’t have to pretend to be anything. I just feel so close to you.” He lifts my chin and kisses me for what feels like days.
His words have sparked an even deeper longing inside of me. He releases me and shifts his body toward mine. I put my hand on his inner thigh and feel his hardness straining against his jeans. The beer I had is making me feel bold and I rub my hand along it, feeling the extent of his girth.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?” I ask.
His eyes widen and he smiles. “I most definitely want to show that to you…” he kisses along my jaw to my ear and whispers, “…but not right now.” He bites my earlobe, and I’m surprised at how much I enjoy the sensation.
He gets out of the car and walks to my side. He opens my door, takes my hand, and guides me out of the seat. This dapper gesture is overridden as he grasps my hips and pushes me up against the side of the car. My breath leaves me as he kisses me. He takes his lips away from mine, and his biceps flex as he lifts me up and places me onto the hood of the car. I’m feeling even less inhibited, so I slip my hand between our legs and touch the hardest part of him. He groans, but restrains himself, and steps away from me.
“I’m sorry. Was that too forward?”
He hops onto the hood and pulls me against him. We lie back on the windshield.
“You did nothing wrong, angel. I just don’t want to distract us from what I wanted to show you.”
“What are we—”
“Just wait.” He brushes a stray hair from my face, and his fingers trace the skin on my arm and give me goose bumps.
I look at him and his eyes are filled with things unsaid. I don’t know what we’re waiting for, but I feel so close to him now. Singing with him tonight, the very public display of affection on the roof, our kisses just now—emotion overwhelms me, and I pull his face to mine and kiss him again. I run my hand into his hair and he moans as I nibble at his lips. I straddle him and he slides his hands down to my ass. He grinds into me and I gasp, then he stops and a mischievous smile spreads across his face. I hear an engine humming.
“This is why we’re here.” He shifts me off his lap. “I want you to just lie still and look up.”
“All right.” I put my hand in his and follow his command to look up into the night sky. Tiny stars faintly sparkle through the smog overhead, and just above the horizon I see blinking lights. As the lights approach and get lower, I hear an air splitting whir. The shadow of a plane becomes clear as the high-pitched sigh of the jet reaches a crescendo. The plane is descending directly toward Jason’s car. I feel my body get rigid, then I start to move. A fight or flight reaction takes over my brain, urging me to move out of the plane’s path. Jason’s grip tightens on my hand and he shakes his head at me, his mouth forming words I can’t hear over the deafening roar of the jet engines. The plane is so close. I cover my ears as the sound morphs into a screech as it passes over us. I see the wheels of the landing gear and the seams of the baggage hold. My hair rises and swarms around my face as the jet-wash assaults the air around us. I tilt my head back to watch as the plane touches down on the runway, a few hundred feet behind Jason’s car.
My heart is pounding and I shoot up off the hood, breaking free from Jason’s grasp. “Holy shit! Are you crazy?” The edges of my vision cloud and I feel the blood drain from my face. I fight to get a grip on myself and avoid the looming panic attack.
His smile fades as he takes in my frightened expression. He slides off the hood and grabs my waist. “I didn’t want to scare you. I thought you’d like to see it. Are you okay?”
I know I can beat this if I just breathe. “It was amazing, just—it was scary. I didn’t see that coming. Shit, that was crazy.” I shake my head, trying to rid it of the adrenaline.
“Makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. I think I need to sit down for a sec.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I just get panic attacks sometimes. They started after my dad died. I just need to take a pill. They’re in my purse.”
Jason grabs the Xanax prescription bottle from my bag and hands it to me. I pop one and swallow it without water. We lean back against the car and Jason rubs my back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s m
y cross to bear. I can handle it. I don’t even need to take my meds very often anymore. If I fight hard enough when it comes over me, I can beat it.”
His eyes glaze over with some emotion I can’t identify. He steps toward me and pulls me against him.
“That feels nice,” I say.
“Oh, yeah? Do you like the way this feels?”
He puts his lips to my exposed neck, kissing and sucking. His breath is hot and quick as he hoists me up onto the hood again. Before I know what’s happened, I’m topless on top of Jason’s car. My shirt is in a ball next to me and Jason is sliding both hands over my breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he admires my body. He slides his fingers into my bra, gently playing with my nipples, and kissing the sensitive skin on my collarbone. I feel the ache rising to a fever pitch between my legs. I can’t speak—I’m drunk with his touch.
“I want you. I want to be with you. I want you naked. I want to make you feel good,” he pants against my neck.
His words have pushed me into a frenzy. No one has ever turned me on the way he does, or gotten inside my head the way he has. “I want you, too. I want you, Jason.”
He steps back, picks up my shirt, and hands it to me. I feel a lump rise in my throat. Rejected. I’m embarrassed, and disappointed. I shouldn’t have said anything. He opens the door, jaw clenched, eyes dark. I slide off the hood and slip my shirt over my head, my eyes tearing with regret.
“Are you taking me home?” I ask.
“What? No, Claire, I’m not. I’m taking you to my bed.”
I’m shaking with nerves by the time we arrive at his building. He unlocks the door to his apartment and once we’re inside he spins me around and presses me against it. The fire in his eyes is replaced with tenderness as he takes my face in his hands. “I want this so badly. Tell me you want it too.”
I look deep into his eyes, and see waves of blue and green crash and burn. I brush my fingertips across his lips. “I want you.”
My voice breaks as I whisper the words. Jason mutters something I can’t understand, and bends down to lift me up. He carries me into his room and throws me on his bed. I sink into the mass of pillows, and slip off my boots as he stalks over to his stereo while pulling his shirt over his head. He presses a button, and gentle notes float out of the speakers. The only light in his room is from the streetlight shining in through the window. I can’t see his face as he walks toward me. The light illuminates his tattoos, and I think of all he’s been through—our connection, our shared grief. He approaches the bed and slides his body against mine. He tangles his fingers in my hair, and pushes his tongue through my lips as he passes his hands over my breasts and down to the space between my legs. He unbuttons my pants and rises up on bent knees as he yanks them off. He slides his hands up my thighs, reaches under my shirt, and then slips it over my head. I feel so exposed, lying there in my underwear while his eyes devour my form.
A Flawed Heart Page 7
