waking up to discover the one light shining bright in the dark night had been extinguished.
“Where are you, Jesse?” I whispered, chewing on my lip as I bit back the worst case scenario thoughts leaping to mind.
Then I felt him. Like he’d answered my question without using words. Jesse was close by, and everything inside of me heaved a sigh of relief. Scanning the room, I saw he wasn’t there, which meant . . . My gaze shifted toward the entrance. The sheer red curtains were drawn closed, and I saw the shapes of two men standing behind them. One was the size of a damn tractor and the other was . . . a very familiar shape.
I rushed toward the entrance, avoiding eye contact with everyone I passed. I could not, I would not, answer any more questions about inspiration, where I saw my career in five years, or if I’d be interested in doing a nude of their wives. I burst through the curtains, trying to go slow since I was wearing heels. Heels and I weren’t exactly copacetic. I should have gone slower.
I somehow managed to catch my toe on the floor, perform a clumsy spin, and was about to crash land face first when a lithe and strong pair of arms caught me. Those arms, or more like the owner behind them, had saved me from so many falls I’d lost count.
“You know I love it when you go and fall into my arms.” Jesse righted me but kept me close. “It really feeds that hero complex I try to repress.” He grinned the one that had made my stomach drop the first day we’d met. Almost one year later, my stomach did the same damn thing.
“And I kind of like it when you’re around to catch me from falling. Because, don’t tell, it really feeds that distressed damsel complex I try so hard to repress.”
“Our secrets and our repressed complexes are safe with each other.”
I was going in to tap the rim of his hat when I stopped short. There was no hat. Lowering my hand to his hair, I ran my fingers through it. Did Jesse have product in his hair? I would have bet my left kidney Jesse didn’t have a clue what product was. When my eyes went lower to find him in a long-sleeved henley with the couple top buttons undone, I wasn’t sure who’d walked into an alternate reality: me or Jesse.
“What happened to you?” I ran my hands around to his back. They moved lower, and when I felt loose material around his backside, my eyes widened.
“Alex got a hold of me.” Jesse shook his head then jolted when I slapped his butt. It didn’t make the same sound, and it certainly didn’t feel the same. When it came to Jesse Walker, it was tight jeans or no jeans.
“Alex,” I said, followed by a sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with her.”
“No worries. It was an adventure, for sure, and I learned at least a dozen new phrases and words related to the acts leading up to, the parts involved, or the actual making of sex.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned. Jesse wasn’t a prude, no where near it, but he was . . . wholesome . That was a rare trait and something to be protected. Spending an hour with Alex Diaz could obliterate that. “Next time, I promise I won’t leave you behind with her. Wait. What am I saying? There won’t be a next time. This whole night was one giant, unexpected surprise.”
That was the first time I’d had a few minutes to take a deep breath and let the last twelve hours catch up with me. Jax and I had pulled it off, barely, but sliding into the artist-of-the-month spot at the Underground as a college freshman wasn’t the kind of thing that saw an encore.
“It looks like things are going great in there. I couldn’t count how many people who stopped and stared at one of your pieces for five, ten, fifteen minutes at a time. One guy looked at one for so long, I started to wonder if he’d turned into a statue.” Jesse looked at me with proud eyes. Genuine pride. I’d convinced myself for years that I didn’t need anyone’s approval or pride, but that wasn’t the truth. I
“Where are you, Jesse?” I whispered, chewing on my lip as I bit back the worst case scenario thoughts leaping to mind.
Then I felt him. Like he’d answered my question without using words. Jesse was close by, and everything inside of me heaved a sigh of relief. Scanning the room, I saw he wasn’t there, which meant . . . My gaze shifted toward the entrance. The sheer red curtains were drawn closed, and I saw the shapes of two men standing behind them. One was the size of a damn tractor and the other was . . . a very familiar shape.
I rushed toward the entrance, avoiding eye contact with everyone I passed. I could not, I would not, answer any more questions about inspiration, where I saw my career in five years, or if I’d be interested in doing a nude of their wives. I burst through the curtains, trying to go slow since I was wearing heels. Heels and I weren’t exactly copacetic. I should have gone slower.
I somehow managed to catch my toe on the floor, perform a clumsy spin, and was about to crash land face first when a lithe and strong pair of arms caught me. Those arms, or more like the owner behind them, had saved me from so many falls I’d lost count.
“You know I love it when you go and fall into my arms.” Jesse righted me but kept me close. “It really feeds that hero complex I try to repress.” He grinned the one that had made my stomach drop the first day we’d met. Almost one year later, my stomach did the same damn thing.
“And I kind of like it when you’re around to catch me from falling. Because, don’t tell, it really feeds that distressed damsel complex I try so hard to repress.”
“Our secrets and our repressed complexes are safe with each other.”
I was going in to tap the rim of his hat when I stopped short. There was no hat. Lowering my hand to his hair, I ran my fingers through it. Did Jesse have product in his hair? I would have bet my left kidney Jesse didn’t have a clue what product was. When my eyes went lower to find him in a long-sleeved henley with the couple top buttons undone, I wasn’t sure who’d walked into an alternate reality: me or Jesse.
“What happened to you?” I ran my hands around to his back. They moved lower, and when I felt loose material around his backside, my eyes widened.
“Alex got a hold of me.” Jesse shook his head then jolted when I slapped his butt. It didn’t make the same sound, and it certainly didn’t feel the same. When it came to Jesse Walker, it was tight jeans or no jeans.
“Alex,” I said, followed by a sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with her.”
“No worries. It was an adventure, for sure, and I learned at least a dozen new phrases and words related to the acts leading up to, the parts involved, or the actual making of sex.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned. Jesse wasn’t a prude, no where near it, but he was . . . wholesome . That was a rare trait and something to be protected. Spending an hour with Alex Diaz could obliterate that. “Next time, I promise I won’t leave you behind with her. Wait. What am I saying? There won’t be a next time. This whole night was one giant, unexpected surprise.”
That was the first time I’d had a few minutes to take a deep breath and let the last twelve hours catch up with me. Jax and I had pulled it off, barely, but sliding into the artist-of-the-month spot at the Underground as a college freshman wasn’t the kind of thing that saw an encore.
“It looks like things are going great in there. I couldn’t count how many people who stopped and stared at one of your pieces for five, ten, fifteen minutes at a time. One guy looked at one for so long, I started to wonder if he’d turned into a statue.” Jesse looked at me with proud eyes. Genuine pride. I’d convinced myself for years that I didn’t need anyone’s approval or pride, but that wasn’t the truth. I
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