Текст книги "Jesse"

Автор книги: Jo Raven

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What the hell, is that line supposed to work? I walk away quickly, before she sidesteps him and comes after me, but a look over my shoulder shows her with a cue in one hand.

What do you know… Maybe she’s shifted her focus to Shane? Chicks often seem fascinated by his long hair and exotic features.

Feeling sorry for Shane, I shove between people, earning a few shoves back. I make it to the back entrance of the bar and step out, onto the street, patting my pockets for my smokes.

The night is warm. Wait, scratch that, not warm. It’s oppressively hot, even more so than inside Halo. No breeze, and the sky is overcast. I walk the few feet to the sidewalk bench and light up.

I don’t notice Seth has followed me until he drops down on the bench beside me with a sigh.

“Goddammit, man.” I almost choke on the smoke in my lungs. “Scared the bejesus out of me.”

I offer him a smoke, and he takes it, borrows my lighter and lights up.

“So what’s up?” I run a hand over my short hair. “I see you also made your escape from her clutches.”

He keeps the cigarette between his fingers but doesn’t draw on it, just stares into the distance.

Huh. “Everything okay?”

“Cassie’s a nice girl,” he says.

O-kay. “Sure she is. I never said—”

“Fuck. Forget it.” He takes a pull from the cigarette, lets the smoke out. “Who the hell cares anyway what she’s like?”

I frown at my hands hanging between my knees, the embers at the tip of my smoke glowing. “You, obviously.”

Duh.

It’s his turn to choke on smoke. “Screw you, J.”

I snort and wipe sweat from my eyes. “Get in line, buddy.”

Finally I get a laugh out of him, and I lean back, the tension leeching out of my shoulders. “Well, you’re a manslut, J. Why are you surprised girls assume you’re game for anything fun?”

Ouch. I don’t know why it smarts to hear Seth of all people say this to me. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a whore—God, not the first time at all—but mostly it’s from people who mean nothing to me, not one of my friends. Not the guy about whose health I worry and whose chores I did this morning.

“Fuck you, too,” I mutter, throwing the stub of my cigarette to the ground and rummaging in my pocket for the pack. “You know nothing about me.”

He shakes his head and smirks. “I know enough.”

Yeah. Damn. “Bullshit.”

“I know you hate cleaning the shop. You love hotdogs and burgers, all that’s greasy. You have no clue how to deal with money, or the fact you got a steady income and a roof over your head.”

“Yeah, cut out the love talk now. One might think we’re dating or something.”

“Hard not to notice stuff.”

“And your point is?”

“You need to realize it’s true, J.”

“What’s true?”

“All of it. The roof, the money, the permanence of it. You’re off the streets.”

“And for how long? How can you think it will last, huh?” Dammit. I light my second cigarette and am horrified to find out my hands are trembling. “Fuck.”

“All I’m saying, man, is I’m right where you are. We gotta believe it and start living, you know?”

“No, I don’t know, so stop yakking. It was peaceful and quiet until you came out.”

An echo of the words Amber spoke to me when I last visited her. My gaze drops to the faded line on my wrist where my leather band used to be. It was there for years, and now I went and lost it. Fucking stupid how it hurts not to have it.

How it matters when it’s just a thing. You’d think I lost a friend. But it was a friend who gave it to me, and it was the last piece of her I had. Now I got nothin’.

“What do you know about Amber?” I ask, the words leaving my mouth before I can think, before I can wonder what she has to do with the darkness swirling in my mind.

“Amber? Ev’s friend?”

“You know more Ambers?” I say irritably, tapping a rhythm with my foot until I realize I’m doing it and stop.

Damn.

“Man, are you seriously hitting on Amber? She’s Ev’s best friend. One wrong move, Ev gets upset, Micah will break both your legs and arms. Not to mention Zane and Rafe.”

“Didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He laughs. “Right. Well, I don’t know much about her. Probably even less than you.”

Thank fuck he isn’t asking why I’m interested. “Humor me.”

“Well, she used to go to school here with Ev. Then her family moved to Chicago, and she only came back the day of the party. She’s thinking of studying design, Ev says. You know she makes jewelry.”

“I didn’t know.” I remember the pendant she wore at the party. Was that one of her pieces? I lean forward, more curious than ever. “Any reason why her family would move to Chicago?”

“Fuck if I know. Maybe her parents got jobs there?”

“Right.” Or the bullying got so bad they moved away. “That’s it?”

“Ev’s the person to ask if you wanna know more.” His gaze sharpens. “Chick really got under your skin, didn’t she?”

“She hates me,” I say, bitterness coating my tongue.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s scared of you.”

Is she? Well, with good reason. “I frighten her and disgust her. How’s that any better?”

It comes down to the same. She doesn’t want me, and as for me… I can’t wait to see her again.

Chapter Nine

Amber

“I think I know what to wear at the wedding,” Ev says, sprawling on the couch and dumping her purse beside her with a heartfelt sigh. “I tried this white dress yesterday, I think it will be perfect.”

“A short dress?”

“Yeah, short and knitted. With beads.” She grins. “I think you’ll like it, you’re a bead person. What about you?”

A short dress is a surprise where Ev is concerned. Up until recently, she refused to wear anything short, refused to show the scars of surgery on her leg—the one her ex-boyfriend broke when he ran her over with his bike. She’d finally told me the story, after some prodding.

What a bastard.

“Don’t know yet.” What to wear—or even whether to go or not. I place the two mugs of steaming tea on the low table and sink into the chair across from her.

Ev’s eyes pop wide. “You kidding me. It’s in ten days, girl. When are you going to find something?”

“I know.” As if I could forget. My palms start sweating at the mere thought of another social event I’m supposed to attend.

“Hey, we can go shopping together!” She claps her hands together, eyes bright. “I know some cool shops. Time for you to get re-acquainted with your town.”

I pretend to think about it, while I recall my conversation with Jesse, and how he dreaded shopping. I wonder if he’ll pass by again to check if I found his leather band.

Here I am, thinking about Jesse, again, no matter how often I scold myself for it. There’s something about him that’s burrowing under my skin. I miss him. How can I miss someone I’ve only seen a handful of times?

“Have we met before?” He said that, and there’s a nagging familiarity about him, too, though I’m pretty sure I’ve never met him before returning to Madison.

This is crazy. Like something out of Lost. And it’s all in my mind.

“Amber.” Ev is waving her hands up and down, making faces at me. “Houston, come in.”

I shake my head and laugh at her antics. Silly girl. “But you already know what you’re going to buy.”

“I don’t mind tagging along to help you choose yours, girlfriend.” She sighs. “It’s good to have you back, you know.”

I eye her. She looks so much… sassier than she used to be. Confident. Strong. I want to be like her, I think—sure of myself, knowing what I need and with the courage to fight for it.

Having a slim, tight body like hers would help. Though I’m not chubby anymore, my curves are generous. Very generous. They aren’t easily contained, to be honest, and they make me self-conscious, especially in summer.

“You keep spacing out on me and I’ll start to worry.” She takes her mug and blows on her tea. “Or think you have a crush on one of the boys. You’ve been out of it since the party.”

Heat rises to my face. How can she read me so well after all this time?

“Oh my frigging God, I was right!” She squeals and for a moment I’m terrified she’ll tip the tea on her lap and burn herself. “It’s one of the boys, isn’t it? Who? Wait, don’t tell me.”

I discreetly roll my eyes.

“It can’t be Shane. You were appalled at his manners. Seth?” She leans toward me, peering at me closely. I stick my tongue out at her. “Nah. Too quiet. Too much like you.”

“Whatever,” I say, but a chill runs down my spine.

“That leaves Ocean. He’s funny and nice all around. If you set your sights on him, I have no objections.”

“Okay, good to know.”

I wait for the next one, but she just sips at her tea. After a long moment, she looks up and lifts her copper brows at me. “What?” Her eyes narrow. “Wait…Not Jesse. Not the manwhore.”

“I haven’t said anything”

“Yeah, only your eyes lit up like fireworks when I mentioned his name. You don’t even like the guy!”

“Never said I do.” I stare into my tea. “Why are you so set against him?”

“Because he is… Have you listened to a word I’ve said? The man is a slut. He has screwed half the town.”

“You’re telling me the others haven’t? Micah exempted, of course,” I hurry to add when she scowls.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. They don’t parade their conquests at every party. They try to be discreet. I don’t think Jesse would know the meaning of the word discreet if it bit him in the face.”

No bit surprises there. “What’s his story anyway? Kayla didn’t know to tell me, said to ask you.”

“Oh God…” She plunks her mug on the table, toes off her sandals and gathers her legs under her. “You got it that bad, do you?”

I don’t reply. I won’t dignify her words with an answer.

“Jesse…” She sighs again, and what’s up with that? It’s like I’m tiring her. “He doesn’t really talk about his past. But I overheard Zane tell Dylan how he found Jesse more than a year ago, on the street. He’d been a real mess, He had… a fresh tattoo on his chest, badly made and infected.”

I shudder. “What about his family?”

“No family, apparently, and he said his only friend was gone. He’d escaped from a group home. Or transition home. No idea. Zane somehow saw an artist in him and took him on as his apprentice.”

No family. No home. His friend gone. “The leather band was given to me by someone who meant a lot to me. Later I lost her, and that’s all I have left of her.”

“Doesn’t mean all he said was true,” Ev says.

“But it could be.”

“Yeah, it could. Anyway…” She picks up her mug again and her mouth twists. “Too late to convince you not to have a crush on him, right?”

“I don’t have a crush on him. Why do you say that?” I push my hands into the back of the arm chair, between the cushion and the back. My fingers curl around something thin and rough.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She snorts. “You’re funny, Amber, you know that?”

“Why does everyone assume I have a crush on Jesse? I don’t. I’m just curious.”

And that’s all there is to it, I think as I pull out a worn and battered string of leather from the back of the chair.

Jesse’s leather band.

***

Standing in front of Jesse’s door, I shift from foot to foot in my flat sandals and tug on the hem of my blue summer dress with one hand.

The other clutches the worn leather band. I lift it, inspect one last time the faded letters inked on one side. ‘Helen’.

I’d guessed she was the one who gave the bracelet to him, but it was still a small shock to see her name there. So far she’d been a whispered name, a vague reference.

She’s real. Or was?

So many questions torturing my mind, lying on the tip of my tongue, waiting to spill out. But when the door finally creaks open and Jesse is standing in front of me, half-naked and drop-dead gorgeous, they evaporate into thin smoke.

“Embers?” He lifts a dark brow, and I try to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.

Kind of hard with all that muscled, male, inked flesh in full display in front of me. He’s shirtless, and oh God, I’d forgotten his nipples are pierced. The silver hoops threaded through the small brown nubs gleam. His bare chest is sculpted and hard, from his pecs to the cut abs and the fine dark trail of hairs leading into the waistband of his gray jogging pants.

Sweat glistens on his skin, on the colorful ink covering his arm, the swirls and lines dipping from his left shoulder down to a defined pec. A demon is tattooed there, stylized wings and a monstrous head, fading into the purple and blue of other, older-looking tats. And then of course there’s the cobra I noticed on his arm the other day.

“Hey,” I say vaguely, my brain on shut-down. I swallow hard, try again. “What does the cobra stand for?”

Both his brows arch now, eyes wide, their green-blue irises crystalline in the morning light. He glances down at his arm, then back at me. “What?”

“What does the snake stand for?” I wave in his direction, wondering if I should cut my losses, turn around and run away right frigging now. Being antisocial is one thing—seeing it in action is another.

As I’m about to make my escape, one corner of his mouth tips up.

“You’re funny,” he says, and it stops me in my tracks.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, trust me.” He grins. “How about we start again? Good morning, Embers.”

If flames jump from my cheeks, it won’t surprise me. “Morning.”

“Would you like to come inside?” he says, that sexy grin lingering on his full lips. “There might be coffee.”

“No, thanks.” The need to flee is worse than ever, only I’m caught in his spell and can’t move. He’s staring at me, giving me a lazy, slow once-over, from the top of my head to my toes curling in my sandals.

“What, no pet name for me today?”

Oh God, what am I doing here? “Cut it out, Jesse. Don’t be an ass.”

I expect a witty comeback, but instead something shutters behind his bright eyes, and strangely, I feel guilt wash over me. He rubs a hand over his face and slumps against the doorframe, muscles rolling in his arms.

“This is who I am, Embers,” he drawls, closing his eyes. “What you see is what you get. I told you that you’d get tired of me soon.”

But for the first time, I’m not so sure about that. And on top of it, I feel even worse for letting him think that.

“I found it,” I blurt out.

He sighs, opens his eyes to look at me, and instead of anger, I find something totally unexpected: defeat. “What did you find? Organic coffee? The leopard thong I lost the other day? The end of your patience?”

For some reason, I start to laugh. It’s not that what he said is all that funny—come on!—but the image of him in a leopard thong is in equal parts hilarious and hot.

What the hell’s wrong with me?

Takes me a moment to realize he’s laughing, too, but quietly, forehead pressed to the doorframe, his broad shoulders shaking, abs clenching in his belly. At least, I assume he’s laughing. From where I’m standing, it looks an awful lot like he’s crying.

Definitely going crazy, I decide, my laughter dying, though I can’t stop myself from stepping forward and placing a light hand on his arm.

“JJ? You okay?”

He doesn’t move, a fine tremor going through him. Under my hand, his muscles shift and bunch, and he lifts his head. His face is inches from mine, golden skin, eyes that seem wet but maybe only seem brighter from up close, soft lips that part to let out a shaky exhale. The light musk of his sweat and a hint of cinnamon soap mingle with the minty scent of his toothpaste.

“Embers,” he whispers, shifting until he’s pushing me back on the doorjamb. It’s digging into my spine, but I barely feel it as he presses his tall body to mine and frames my head with his arms, imprisoning me between them.

He dips his face, long dark lashes fanning over his cheekbones. His eyes glimmer like gems, and his mouth that says so many funny and dirty things is so close… God, I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly. Never wanted to be kissed like I do now.

As he shifts slightly, his warm breath washing over my lips, something long and hard pokes me in the hip.

“What are you doing to me?” he hisses, pressing his forehead to mine, and I realize what I’m feeling is his cock through the thin fabric of his pants. He’s rock hard—for me.

“JJ…” My pet name for him. I shouldn’t call him this, but I keep doing it. I have to stop, have to…

The thought unravels when he lifts one hand off the wall and traces the line of my cheek and jaw, his touch feather-like, his finger pads rough and scratchy.

My skin burns. Fire races down my belly, pooling there, a painful need. A need for him, and the light brush of his corded forearm against my cheek sends tingles to every part of my body. My breasts throb, the tips aching where they are pressed to the compact planes of his chest. The look of deep concentration on his face keeps me still. His eyes are darkening to stormy blue, and the bulge of his hard-on against my belly is growing more insistent.

His thumb slips over my lips, pressing lightly, and I let them part, let him push his thumb inside. He gasps, a jolt going through his body, and overwhelmed by sensation, I release a tiny moan.

A mistake, as it turns out. Jesse withdraws from me, stepping back and lifting his hands as if afraid I’m about to pull a gun and shoot him.

Cold rushes in between us, stealing the warmth left by his body on mine. Cold, and a weird sense of loss.

“Fuck.” He turns in a circle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck!”

I’m breathless, aware of my body like never before, and he seems incensed. The cold intensifies, coming from inside of me, and I shiver, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

He glances at me, and the blood drains from his face. “Fuck it. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.”

You are, I want to say, for stopping—but he returns to me, his gaze concerned. He rubs his own hands up and down my arms, big, warm hands, and his scent returns with him, wrapping me up like a hug.

“Are you okay, Embers?” He catches my eye and stares right into me, into my soul, and what he sees there seems to startle him worse than anything else that happened today so far. “Damn.”

“What?” I finally find my voice long enough to whisper.

“I scared you again, didn’t I? Come,” he grabs my hand, tugs lightly. “I promised you coffee.”

Utterly confused, and yet unwilling to leave just yet, I follow him inside.

***

“You never told me what you found,” he says as he putters about the small and chaotic kitchen. There are stacks of dirty dishes in the sink and mugs on the table.

I found you, a voice in my head whispers, and I shut it down. What happened between us—or almost happened—turned my world upside down.

I want Jesse Lee. I can’t hide from this glaring fact any longer.

What I found…

Oh God. I’d completely forgotten about the leather band, and it’s still clutched in one of my hands. I uncurl my fingers slowly, one by one. They’re cramped and stiff from gripping the band so tightly and for so long.

“I, um. I found what you lost.” I lift my hand, palm up, offering the band to him. “Under a cushion on one of the armchairs.” He says nothing, staring at me, his eyes wide, and I forge on, nervousness making my hand shake. “I came by to give it to you. Because you asked for it.”

Holy crap. Shut up, Amber. Just shut the hell up.

He drops the bag of coffee he was holding back on the counter and walks toward me as if in a daze. He lifts the leather band from my hand and stares hard at it, as if unable to believe it’s real. Then he sinks into one of the rickety chairs and slides the leather band over his wrist, fumbling to tie the loose ends into a knot.

Without a second thought, I reach over to help him. He stills when I touch him, doesn’t lift his eyes, but lets me tie the small knot, securing the band in place.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice a little rough. “I… Damn, I really appreciate it.”

I nod, my hand still resting on his wrist. It’s his inked arm, and the thin scars scattered on his skin tickle my palm. His pulse ticks under my fingertips, fast and uneven, when I trace the nearest scar.

“JJ…”

He pulls his hand away and rubs at his eyes. Then he shoves his chair back and staggers to his feet. For a long, frightening moment, I think he may fall, his knees buckling slightly, but he catches himself and walks over to the coffee maker. I don’t dare ask again if he’s okay, let alone ask about the scars, or the bracelet.

That almost kiss made things even more awkward between us than they used to be, and here I thought it wasn’t possible. He jams a filter into the machine, measures out the ground coffee and fills it up with water, his movements jerky. The muscles in his back shift and glide under silky bronze skin, distracting me, as he starts the machine percolating.

His shoulders rise and fall, and he braces his hands on the counter, bowing his head. From the top of his muscled back to his long legs, he is…

Beautiful. So very beautiful. No wonder all the girls want him.

Damn.

“So… Saturday a week from now.” His voice is still rough around the edges, but when he straightens, pours the coffee and returns to the table with two mugs, his step is steady and there’s no sign of anything dark in his expression. “You said you’re going, right?”

Either he’s an excellent actor, or I really imagined the pain I glimpsed in his eyes, and I don’t know which is freaking me out more.

I drag one of the mugs toward me as he takes again his seat across from me, my gaze snagging on the leather band, which is back where it belongs.

“Well, I can’t think of a way to bow out of this one without pissing Ev off.”

“Then go.” He pushes the sugar pot toward me. “You said you wanted to become more sociable and shit. Go and shine.”

Yeah. Put that way… I did say it, didn’t I? It’s what I should try and do.

“It’s not hard,” he says and gives me one of his wicked, lopsided grins that send butterflies tumbling in my stomach.

Well, it really looks like the awkward moment has passed… For him, at least.

“Easy for you to say.” Easy for you to do, to pretend nothing almost happened between us. I glare at him as I grab the sugar and dump two spoonfuls into my coffee. “I need a crash course in sociability.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, not denying it. “And I need training in shopping.”

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Why is shopping a problem for you?”

He blows on his coffee, his expression distant. “I’m afraid to spend. Afraid to make the wrong choice, and give away my money for something useless. Hell, I don’t even trust banks. I hide my money inside my room.”

My mouth hangs open. “Are you serious?”

He nods, looking sheepish.

“But you have to pay for things, right? Rent, bills, food? How do you do that, if you have trouble spending?”

He shrugs. “I force myself to do it. I mean, I don’t spend much on food. I eat at the café and the taco joint where I work, mostly. I save the rest.”

“What for?”

He puffs out a breath. “For colder days? For when I lose it all again.”

My mug clatters when I put it down hard. “Why would you lose it all? Zane is training you, and I bet he’s got a job lined up for you when training’s over. He and Rafe and the others… they don’t seem to me the kind to kick people out on the curb.”

“You can never tell, though, can you?” His eyes narrow. “It doesn’t matter. That thing you said, about a crash course…”

Wait a minute, is he suggesting…?

I shake my head. “No. No way.”

“You don’t know what I was about to say.”

“Sure I do. I’m a mind-reader.”

His bright smile flashes. “We could help each other out. If you take me shopping, I’ll take you partying. It’s a perfect solution.”

“Read my lips: No.”

“Come on, Embers.” His smile fades and a crease appears between his dark brows. “There’s this wedding reception you’re supposed to attend and don’t want to. There are clothes I’m supposed to buy and I don’t fucking know how. The clothes I buy when left to my own devices are crap, they don’t last the damn month. I need someone… Someone to show me how to spend, crazy as it may sound. Someone to tell me it’s okay to use the money, to buy something good.” He presses his thumbs to his temples, as if fighting a headache. “Would you think about it?”

Holy hell, he is serious.

It’s a crazy idea. Tempting. But crazy. May be fun.

Frigging insane.

I sigh. “My parents believe going out will solve all my problems. I only have to change, get out of my shell.”

When I look up, I see a flash of emotion in his eyes I don’t have the time to decipher before it’s gone. “I don’t think you should change,” he says. “You’re just fine as you are.”

I blink at him. That’s not the reaction I was expecting. It was either a guffaw, or him agreeing with my parents’ assessment.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Why should you pretend to be something you’re not? To like something you don’t? Like parties. If you hate them, then why pretend you don’t?”

God, good question. “Because then I seem like a freak? I mean, everybody likes parties, right?”

“You’re not everybody, and you’re not a freak,” he says, his smile faint, but I think I like it even more than his smirks and wide grins. It feels more real.

And wait, hasn’t he said this before? About me not being everybody? It’s obvious, and yet another meaning lurks between his words, something he’s trying to tell me.

Yeah, or I’m imagining things.

“Come on.” He raises his mug, clinks it with mine. “Say yes. Help me out here. Otherwise I’ll show up at the wedding naked.”

And of course my gaze immediately flicks back to his sculpted chest and arms, and my mouth runs dry. I lick them. He’s putting me in a tight spot there.

“Okay, on one condition.”

He puts down his mug, wary. “Spill.”

“You will answer three questions from me.” And why the heck am I doing this? Curiosity, I think. It’s gotten the better of me.

He stills, not even blinking, for a long unnerving moment. Then he shrugs. “A game, huh? Well, why the hell not? I’m in.”

Wow. I realize I didn’t expect him to agree. What do you know… and what have I gotten myself into?

Too late to back out now, though. “Then it’s a deal.”