Hot Ticket
Page 68
Why had he asked her that? He didn’t want to know. He needed to hang on to the moment. Stop worrying about the past. Stop fretting over the future. That’s what she gave him. She gave him now. That’s all that should be important to him, but it wasn’t.
“Why would I do that?”
“Sometimes I think I’m your current pet project, and as soon as it’s over, we’ll be over.”
“That’s hurtful, Jace.”
Hurtful? His brow crinkled with confusion. “Why?”
“Because you think I have some ulterior motive. It’s not enough for me to let you know I care. You question it. Cheapen it.”
“I don’t mean to. I just…” He took a deep breath.
“Just what?”
“I just don’t want you to leave.” After he said it, he felt so blatantly exposed, he wished he could take it back.
She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “No chance. You are stuck with this crazy bitch whether you like it or not.”
He laughed, the tension draining from his body, and squeezed her tightly. “I like it.”
She relaxed against him and let him hold her while they watched the concert. Halfway through the set, Brian was left alone onstage to entertain the crowd with his guitar solos. The rest of the band filtered offstage and surrounded Jace’s chair.
“Did you see that super-fine chick in the front row?” Jon said excitedly. “She couldn’t take her eyes off me. I’ve got to get me some of that tonight.”
“I’m sure she was looking at Sed,” Trey said, lifting the neck strap of his guitar over his head and handing the instrument to a roadie. He chugged half a beer and chased it with a bottle of water.
“Yeah, she was looking at me, Jon-boy,” Sed said, chomping on red licorice to keep his vocal cords lubricated, “but I’m on the wagon. No pu**y for me until we get back to LA.”
“Five weeks with no pu**y?” Jon burst out laughing. “You? Sure, Sed. That’s possible.”
Sed crossed his arms over his chest resolutely. “That’s right. Three more weeks. It’s already been almost two.”
Trey laughed and pounded Sed on the back. “Jessica will never walk again.” Trey sat on Aggie’s lap, squirming to crush her into Jace. “This chair is so f**kin’ lumpy.”
Aggie chuckled and wrapped her arms around Trey’s waist.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Aggie. Didn’t see you there.” Trey leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle.
Crushed beneath them, Jace couldn’t draw a decent breath. “Damn, Aggie, have you gained weight?” His quip earned him an elbow in the ribs.
Eric came to stand with the group. He pulled his sweat-drenched shirt off and tossed it in Trey’s face.
Trey swatted it to the floor. “For that, I suggest you don’t go to sleep tonight, Sticks.”
Eric took a long drink of water and then upended the bottle over his head. He shook his head like a wet dog, sending droplets of water and sweat flying in all directions. “What? You gonna hurt me?”
“You should be so lucky,” Trey said.
Eric continued his public shower and then patted himself dry with a hand towel before donning a clean shirt.
Trey was now watching Brian onstage. “He gets better and better, doesn’t he?”
“Dude, my legs are falling asleep,” Jace complained, trying to dislodge Trey from the top of the pile by squirming. “Get off.”
“You hear something, Aggie?” Trey asked.
“Nope. I’m too fat to hear anything.”
Jace’s heart stuttered. Had he hurt her feelings? She was perfect. How could she possibly think he had been serious when he’d asked her if she’d gained weight? He slid his hands between Trey’s back and Aggie’s stomach, pulling her securely against his chest.
“You’re not fat,” he whispered into her ear. “I meant Trey was heavy.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“But that’s what I meant. It was a joke.”
“Since when do you joke around, Jace?”
Since I started to believe that I can be myself when I’m with you. But he couldn’t say that. Not with Trey sitting right there. His jaw clenched as emotion threatened to bubble to the surface. “Whatever.”
“If you two are gonna argue, I’m going to join Brian onstage.” Trey removed himself from Aggie’s lap and settled his red electric guitar in place. He was crossing the stage before Jace could take a decent breath.
Aggie didn’t try to remove herself from his lap, but her body was stiff and unyielding.
He kissed her shoulder, not knowing what to do to make her forgive him for his offhand comment. He thought she was perfect. And even if she were fat, he wouldn’t have cared. He would love her no matter what she looked like. Should he tell her things like that? That he loved her no matter what? His throat closed off. He was panting again. He couldn’t get a grip on himself. Not since he’d told her about his mother. Told her things he’d never told anyone. Things he’d never admitted even to himself.
“I love you,” he whispered.
He figured he’d said it too quietly for her to hear over Brian and Trey’s guitar duel, but her body relaxed into his, and she squeezed his hand. “I’m glad,” she said.
They watched in silence as the band returned to the stage and continued the concert. She must have sensed his turmoil at expressing his feelings aloud. She was supportive, but didn’t push him. He knew if she had, he would have slipped back into denial. He’d never figure out how she could understand him so completely. No one understood him. He didn’t even understand himself. He gently rubbed his left hand over her forearm, needing the tactile sensation of her bare flesh against his fingertips.
When it came time for the band’s encore, Aggie climbed off his lap and offered him a hand. He looked at her and found her cheeks wet with tears. His heart stumbled over several beats.
He climbed to his feet and took her shoulder in his free hand. “Aggie. What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, closed her eyes, and swallowed. “I’m glad.” She hugged him unexpectedly, rubbing her tear-damp face against his neck.
“I’m glad,” she whispered.
A roadie, Jake, poked Jace in the back. “You’d better get ready to go onstage.”
Jace released Aggie, and his favorite, solid black bass was pushed into his good hand. He settled the familiar strap around his shoulder, wincing slightly when the full weight of the instrument settled over his trapezius muscle and collarbone. Maybe he had overestimated his ability to play. He slid his arm out of its sling and tested the mobility of his fingers. A bit stiff, but he could play. He was sure.
“Why would I do that?”
“Sometimes I think I’m your current pet project, and as soon as it’s over, we’ll be over.”
“That’s hurtful, Jace.”
Hurtful? His brow crinkled with confusion. “Why?”
“Because you think I have some ulterior motive. It’s not enough for me to let you know I care. You question it. Cheapen it.”
“I don’t mean to. I just…” He took a deep breath.
“Just what?”
“I just don’t want you to leave.” After he said it, he felt so blatantly exposed, he wished he could take it back.
She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “No chance. You are stuck with this crazy bitch whether you like it or not.”
He laughed, the tension draining from his body, and squeezed her tightly. “I like it.”
She relaxed against him and let him hold her while they watched the concert. Halfway through the set, Brian was left alone onstage to entertain the crowd with his guitar solos. The rest of the band filtered offstage and surrounded Jace’s chair.
“Did you see that super-fine chick in the front row?” Jon said excitedly. “She couldn’t take her eyes off me. I’ve got to get me some of that tonight.”
“I’m sure she was looking at Sed,” Trey said, lifting the neck strap of his guitar over his head and handing the instrument to a roadie. He chugged half a beer and chased it with a bottle of water.
“Yeah, she was looking at me, Jon-boy,” Sed said, chomping on red licorice to keep his vocal cords lubricated, “but I’m on the wagon. No pu**y for me until we get back to LA.”
“Five weeks with no pu**y?” Jon burst out laughing. “You? Sure, Sed. That’s possible.”
Sed crossed his arms over his chest resolutely. “That’s right. Three more weeks. It’s already been almost two.”
Trey laughed and pounded Sed on the back. “Jessica will never walk again.” Trey sat on Aggie’s lap, squirming to crush her into Jace. “This chair is so f**kin’ lumpy.”
Aggie chuckled and wrapped her arms around Trey’s waist.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Aggie. Didn’t see you there.” Trey leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle.
Crushed beneath them, Jace couldn’t draw a decent breath. “Damn, Aggie, have you gained weight?” His quip earned him an elbow in the ribs.
Eric came to stand with the group. He pulled his sweat-drenched shirt off and tossed it in Trey’s face.
Trey swatted it to the floor. “For that, I suggest you don’t go to sleep tonight, Sticks.”
Eric took a long drink of water and then upended the bottle over his head. He shook his head like a wet dog, sending droplets of water and sweat flying in all directions. “What? You gonna hurt me?”
“You should be so lucky,” Trey said.
Eric continued his public shower and then patted himself dry with a hand towel before donning a clean shirt.
Trey was now watching Brian onstage. “He gets better and better, doesn’t he?”
“Dude, my legs are falling asleep,” Jace complained, trying to dislodge Trey from the top of the pile by squirming. “Get off.”
“You hear something, Aggie?” Trey asked.
“Nope. I’m too fat to hear anything.”
Jace’s heart stuttered. Had he hurt her feelings? She was perfect. How could she possibly think he had been serious when he’d asked her if she’d gained weight? He slid his hands between Trey’s back and Aggie’s stomach, pulling her securely against his chest.
“You’re not fat,” he whispered into her ear. “I meant Trey was heavy.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“But that’s what I meant. It was a joke.”
“Since when do you joke around, Jace?”
Since I started to believe that I can be myself when I’m with you. But he couldn’t say that. Not with Trey sitting right there. His jaw clenched as emotion threatened to bubble to the surface. “Whatever.”
“If you two are gonna argue, I’m going to join Brian onstage.” Trey removed himself from Aggie’s lap and settled his red electric guitar in place. He was crossing the stage before Jace could take a decent breath.
Aggie didn’t try to remove herself from his lap, but her body was stiff and unyielding.
He kissed her shoulder, not knowing what to do to make her forgive him for his offhand comment. He thought she was perfect. And even if she were fat, he wouldn’t have cared. He would love her no matter what she looked like. Should he tell her things like that? That he loved her no matter what? His throat closed off. He was panting again. He couldn’t get a grip on himself. Not since he’d told her about his mother. Told her things he’d never told anyone. Things he’d never admitted even to himself.
“I love you,” he whispered.
He figured he’d said it too quietly for her to hear over Brian and Trey’s guitar duel, but her body relaxed into his, and she squeezed his hand. “I’m glad,” she said.
They watched in silence as the band returned to the stage and continued the concert. She must have sensed his turmoil at expressing his feelings aloud. She was supportive, but didn’t push him. He knew if she had, he would have slipped back into denial. He’d never figure out how she could understand him so completely. No one understood him. He didn’t even understand himself. He gently rubbed his left hand over her forearm, needing the tactile sensation of her bare flesh against his fingertips.
When it came time for the band’s encore, Aggie climbed off his lap and offered him a hand. He looked at her and found her cheeks wet with tears. His heart stumbled over several beats.
He climbed to his feet and took her shoulder in his free hand. “Aggie. What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, closed her eyes, and swallowed. “I’m glad.” She hugged him unexpectedly, rubbing her tear-damp face against his neck.
“I’m glad,” she whispered.
A roadie, Jake, poked Jace in the back. “You’d better get ready to go onstage.”
Jace released Aggie, and his favorite, solid black bass was pushed into his good hand. He settled the familiar strap around his shoulder, wincing slightly when the full weight of the instrument settled over his trapezius muscle and collarbone. Maybe he had overestimated his ability to play. He slid his arm out of its sling and tested the mobility of his fingers. A bit stiff, but he could play. He was sure.
