Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(35)

All that history shouldn’t have mattered now, but it did. I couldn’t endure losing him twice—once was hard enough. If I had to go through that again, it would break me. After the night I left him, I’d never once dated a musician. How could I expect a man who had the most beautiful and available women at his disposal to be monogamous?
Jericho had addiction problems: sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll. A drug addict must abstain from all drugs to be clean and sober, but it was unrealistic to ask someone to become celibate. By no means did I think I was vastly superior to him—I had my own drawer full of dirty socks. I just didn’t air my laundry out in the open the way he did.
A plate of scrambled eggs and bacon appeared in front of me. Jericho stood across the table and spun the chair around, straddling the seat and folding his arms over the back. He was wearing a black suit jacket with no shirt, and the hickey on his chest soured my stomach.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Just the way you like it. Bland as all fuck.” He shoved a saltshaker toward me. “Go on and eat. You’ve been passed out for the last thirty minutes, and I don’t remember seeing you eat dinner earlier.”
“It’s hard to serve on a full stomach.” I lifted the fork and shoveled in a few bites. “Usually I just snack on protein bars and save the big meals for the afternoon. What are you still doing here? Your show ended hours ago.”
He reached across the table and broke off a piece of my bacon. I noticed most of his eyeliner had smeared off. “Decided to hang out for a while and play a little pool with one of my brothers,” he said, chewing on the bacon.
“Is he the one who sucked on your chest?” I asked, pointing at the purple bruise.
Jericho pulled open his jacket and glanced down at his left pec with drowsy eyes. Then his mouth widened in a fiendish smile. “We spilled popcorn. I had a mishap with the vacuum cleaner. Swear it.”
“How come you never talked about your brothers? They seem decent, and I only remember you mentioning them once or twice.”
He slowly licked his finger and then sucked off the remaining bacon crumbs. “I was in a different place back then. Austin was just a kid, and my parents didn’t want me around; they thought I’d be a bad influence. They were right. By then we were all living on our own, but the other guys would return home for long intervals to bond with Austin. It was always weird when I showed up. I got a lot of shit from some of my brothers for not visiting as much, and I guess they could see what I’d gotten mixed up in. Reno was afraid I’d get too famous and people would eventually notice I wasn’t aging. You know how the Breed feels about fame.”
“I’m glad you’ve sorted it all out. I’m sure they’ve always loved you, but you were a handful back then.”
He pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and gingerly tapped it on the table. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You walked naked into a gas station and bought Twinkies on a dare. You didn’t run, Jericho. You walked in there just as cool as a breeze.”
He leaned back with a nostalgic expression. “I forgot about that. Now tell me, Isabelle, whose idea was it? I can’t seem to recall what kind of deviant person would have made such a dare.”
I kicked him under the table, and it roused a smile. “I had no idea you’d go through with it.”
“You wanted Twinkies.”
“Actually, I wanted those little cupcakes, but I guess you’d forgotten by the time you walked across the street and went inside.”
He shrugged. “It was chilly that night.”
I took another bite of my eggs. “Thirty degrees with snow flurries, as I recall.”
We both laughed, and a moment of silence fell between us, one thick with memories and tender feelings.
“I like your hair better now,” he suddenly said. He frowned and quickly bent forward so a veil of hair obscured his face. “What I mean is it’s not braided like you used to wear it.”
“I’ve learned to accept the wild nature of my hair and just roll with it. Thanks, though.”
“How’s your family?” he asked in a stony voice. Jericho knew about my tumultuous upbringing.
“My parents divorced.”
His brows rested at an indifferent slant. “And your siblings?”
“We don’t keep in touch. We’re related by blood, but I have no love for them. You have no idea what it’s like growing up in a house where you’re the odd animal out. After they went through the change, they used their animals to intimidate me, and because no one stopped them, it progressively got worse. My mother would defend them, saying they were just acting on instinct against another predator.”