Twisted(21)

But hey, that should make it easier to get to know Brent, right? That he looked like someone she lo—cared about a lot had to help. Besides, he would only be home for the weekend to pack up the rest of his stuff to take back with him to his off-campus apartment. She was getting his room permanently…for however long forever lasted here.

His bedroom was large like Gray’s and the enormous space overwhelmed her in the best way. She could already picture having her girlfriends over to sit on the fluffy white rug in front of the bay windows that overlooked the backyard with its kidney-shaped pool and brightly colored deck chairs. Their voices would fill the room with their laughter and happiness, chasing away the monsters that lived not in Jazz’s closet, but in her head.

If she actually had any girlfriends, she would’ve pictured that.

Instead she visualized sitting on the bed with Gray, notebooks and music composition books spread out between their knees, guitars on their laps, surrounded by the scent of erasers and Cherry Coke and Gray’s minty aftershave. She’d never seen him anything but clean-shaven, which was why it was a surprise to feel his stubbled cheek scraping over hers.

“Stop thinking so hard. You’re making my brain hurt.”

“Sorry. Bad habit.” She laughed and shifted to kiss his cheek, something she’d done a million times. She’d kissed his cheek the morning before she’d watched him go down on his latest girl, kissed it again the next day when he’d come down to breakfast and looked at her with heavy, brooding eyes. They’d never spoken of those moments when she’d played voyeur. If it was up to her, they never would.

But now there were new moments, a new tension unwinding between them as her careless cheek kiss glanced off the corner of his mouth, so close that she swore she tasted cherry cola. His wary gaze shot to hers and he hooked his arm around her waist, drawing her in even as his mouth twitched with all the things he didn’t say.

“Sorry,” she repeated. God, her cheek was still tingling from the imprint of his stubbled jaw. “Missed.”

“Stop apologizing, Jazz.” Gray eyes so like the mists over the San Francisco Bay drifted over her face. But they weren’t cold. They were the day’s warmth burning off the fog until only heat lightning remained. She felt the sizzle and simmer in her bones, in her blood. “You have nothing to be sorry for, ever. You’re perfect.” His lips were a heartbeat away. He angled his head and they skated closer for a fraction of a second. Lifetimes passed in that instant yet they weren’t nearly long enough to feel all of this. “Absolutely perfect.”

She lifted her hand but she wasn’t fast enough to hold him still. That was Gray. Life. Movement. Pure energy captured in human form. He was already moving away, striding through the dining room doors and calling out to the guy who waited on the other side with his parents. His brother. His family.

She wasn’t truly his sister and could never—would never—be more.





CHAPTER TEN

Now



Splitting up the band? What the hell?

Deacon lumbered to his feet. “What is that supposed to mean? You can’t split us up. That’s not your call to make.”

One of Lila’s pale blonde eyebrows lifted. “Oh, you’d be surprised what calls I can make, Mr. McCoy. However, in this case, you misunderstand me. I’m not splitting up the band.” A hint of a smile crept across her mouth. “For long.”

“I’ve had enough of this shit for one night. Call us back when you’re done speaking in riddles.” Nick shoved out of his chair and had made it halfway to the door when Lila barked out a command.

“Sit. All of you. And listen with the things on the side of your head instead of the big gaping maws under your noses.”

Jazz sniffled and tried to discreetly run her thumbs under her eyes. Simon bumped his chair into hers then slid his arm around her shoulders, giving her an excuse to lean into his embrace. After the near band breakup a couple of months ago, things weren’t the same between her and Simon anymore, but she wasn’t about to fight that battle right now. She was tired of fighting to hold on to the pieces of her life.

It was nice, just now, to be held.

Her gaze connected with Nick’s across the table. His Adam’s apple bobbed in the stubbled column of his throat but he didn’t look away.

After tonight, she had a feeling he was willing to hold her too, in a much different way than Simon or Deak. Somehow he still was, even after that mess that had been the threesome with Gray.

And what was stopping her from taking that comfort if it was offered? Why shouldn’t she feel good too?