Twisted(134)

“What’s that supposed to mean? Last I knew, the concept involved Jazz pouring sugar on Simon.”

“Oh, that was just a wild hair.” She glanced down at her tablet and waved her bright red nails. “We went round-and-round about it. Donovan had a different visual in mind, but I convinced him to go with the sure thing.”

“And what’s that?”

She gave him a smile that could only be construed as wolfish. “You and Jasmine on a bed, making out.”

“Say what?” He set down his Epiphone between his feet. “She agreed to that?”

“Actually, it was her idea.”

Had he only been gone eight weeks? Sure didn’t feel like it right now. “Hold up. Jazz hates to be out front for long.”

“Really? You should check out the footage from Trix. She has quite the stage presence.”

“I never said she didn’t. Of course she does. She’s a goddamn knockout and no one plays better than she does. Not even me.”

Watching the footage from the night she’d covered for him had brought him to that startling conclusion. He’d been strictly on guitar for years yet she still had a competence with the instrument that seemed to outweigh his hours of practice. There was no beating a native understanding of rhythm and an ear for music, and she had both.

And beyond that? Nick had been right. She’d looked so fucking hot playing his guitar.

The tightening in his groin made him clear his throat. Yep, he didn’t need to be thinking about that right now.

“I think Jasmine is just coming into her own. So perhaps what might have been usual for her yesterday isn’t the same as today.” The knowing smile she gave him caused alarm bells to clang in his head. “Give it a chance, okay?”

He grunted. So much for his taking it slow plan with Jazz. That had included treading gently with sex, but he hadn’t anticipated rolling around on a bed with her first thing. Good intentions only went so far. How was he supposed to remember his vow to prove to her how much he cherished her when he wanted to fuck her blind?

“Go on and get freshened up in dressing room C. There are clothes in there for you to wear. I might have underestimated your pants size, though.” Thoughtfully, she tapped her nails against her teeth. “Then again, that might be helpful.”

“Only from where you’re standing,” he muttered.

She laughed and started walking away. “It’s great to have you back, Grayson.”

“Lila, hang on.” He grabbed his guitar and jogged after her. “Something weird happened this morning. I tried to make sure the payment plan with Visions was all set up and they told me I was paid in full.”

She aimed her attention at her iPad. “Hmm. How irregular.”

“You paid for it, didn’t you?”

“TKS Enterprises paid for it, if you must know.” She patted his arm. “And TKS can more than afford it.”

“Who’s that?”

Her lips tightened. “My husband’s company.”

“Lila,” he said softly, gripping the neck of his guitar. “How am I supposed to thank you for that?”

“You’re not. In fact, I demand that you don’t.”

“But I owe you—” He owed so many people, Jazz and his parents the most. He was on his way to earning the money to pay them back. He’d manage to pay Lila back too.

“You want to repay me?” She turned her direct, pull-no-punches gaze on him. “Don’t fuck up again.”

“Don’t worry.” His voice held the conviction that stiffened his spine every time he’d felt his resolve slipping. “I won’t.”

“Not just because of Oblivion, but because of Jasmine. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s her.”

“Yeah.” After a moment, he smiled. “You’re not going to liken this situation to Titanic again, are you? Because I watched that movie in rehab, and dude, the guy frigging dies.”

“I told you. But it’s a good cautionary tale. At any time, the woman you love could banish you to icy cold water so watch your step.”

“I guess so. Do you—”

He lost the thread of what he was saying as Jazz sauntered onto the set from a door across the room. She wore a floor-length robe with furry piping, and instead of it making her resemble a miniature wrestler in the WWE, she looked like a pinup queen. Her banging body didn’t quit. She had serious curves from head to toe. And her hair. It was back to glossy unrelieved black, a wavy curtain that tumbled over her shoulders and framed her heart-shaped face.

“Wow,” he managed once he’d unglued his tongue from the floor.