Twisted(5)

She sucked in an audible breath before releasing him and taking an obvious step back. “Like that chick who was groping your dick in front of everyone?” Her eyes flashed. “I bet you didn’t think I saw that.”

“No. I didn’t.” Wished she hadn’t.

He didn’t have any reason to tread gently around Jazz, other than how much of a worrywart she was. They weren’t a couple nor had they ever been. Deep down, he still had a niggle of hope that things could change. That one day she’d stop looking at him as her best friend and see him as more.

Or at least he had hoped that, before. Now he didn’t want her anywhere near him. He loved her enough to know she deserved better.

His gaze darted to Nick, his arm slung around some random redhead wearing shorts that almost exposed her crotch. Jazz deserved way better than that jerk too. He knew all about the backstage blowjobs she used to give Nick before shows. Hell, he’d practically walked in on one once. What they had done after them was more than he wanted to think about.

It was bad enough that he’d never be able to scour the image of her riding Nick from his brain. Lord knows he tried every time he lined up coke on a mirror and shut his eyes. But nothing made the picture disappear.

“I see more than you think.” Jazz reached up to let down her hair. Tumbled, wavy rainbow strands fell down around her shoulders, making her look even younger than usual. “I’m heading back to the bus to get ready. If you’re not at Sharkey’s by eleven, I’m hunting your ass down. And you can tell that skank that I’m not afraid to use my drumsticks.”

He couldn’t help grinning. “I’ll be along soon. I promise.”

“You better.” She bounced from foot to foot, seeming to hesitate, then arched up on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. The contact seared him straight to the bone as it always did. “It’s hard for me too,” she whispered.

For a second, that same stupid hope surged. That perhaps this was it. The moment he’d been waiting for since he’d realized he had fallen for the one woman he would never allow himself to have.

“Is it?”

“Yes. They hurt both of us. Deacon too.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes, her exhaustion evident in even that simple gesture. “I don’t think Simon and Nick understand how much they fractured the band when they accepted that agreement. To them it was just about percentages. They don’t get that they hurt us by not trusting us enough to make us full partners.”

Of course. She hadn’t been talking about them. She was referring to Oblivion.

Where he wanted to be himself, as fast as humanly possible.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll catch up with you guys at Sharkey’s soon.”

Before she could say anything more, he headed out to find Cricket. She and her blow were guaranteed to improve his mood.

Better yet, maybe he’d finally feel nothing at all.





CHAPTER THREE

Then



Gray shielded his eyes with the side of his hand to block the sun’s glare as he searched the pretty tree-lined campus of Shadyside High. Where the hell was she? This was only Jazz’s third day of classes at her new school. How could she have figured out where to hide out so soon? Unless she was a stoner. Their hangout at the back of the parking lot by the gym was pretty obvious. He frowned. He didn’t think so. She didn’t strike him as the druggie type. She was too smart for that.

He swiveled around, gripping the neck of his guitar loosely in one hand and juggling books and a lunch sack in the other. He’d gotten the guitar from his car, hoping he and Jazz could play during lunch. It was a gorgeous California spring day and he’d packed something that morning for them to eat. Nothing fancy, just bologna and cheese sandwiches and green grapes, but Jazz always acted like he’d given her jewels when he gave her anything. It made him want to give her stuff all the time.

So where was she?

Doing another scan, he spun in a circle, his gaze drifting over the scattered groups of students. Several friends called to him, two of them girls he’d dated at one time or another, but he waved them off with a smile and a promise to catch them later. He finally spotted his quarry under a big leafy tree, her guitar in her lap, her dark hair obscuring her face.

He jogged over to Jazz and dropped down at her side. “What are you doing sitting way over here by yourself?”

“Gray!” she exclaimed, as if it had been years since they’d seen each other rather than the four hours since he’d dropped her off before first period. She hugged him tightly, pressing her face to his neck for one painfully long moment. Painfully long because she smelled like wildflowers and watermelon and felt like the softest, sweetest heaven in his arms.