The song ends, and he leads me to the bar where he drops me with Hennessey and Joy. He’s a lost cause, apparently. I cross my arms over my chest and wait for Jameson to get back. He slipped off, telling me that he was going to request a song for me. I already know he’s going to have them play “Lulu’s Song” because he’s that freaking romantic. God, I’d marry him tonight if he’d just ask. I know a few people in this room who are authorized to do it. Not that it’d be legal without a license or that I’ve looked into this or anything.
“Mel?” a soft feminine voice calls out. I turn to my side and find Lydia standing there.
My face falls, and I have to remind myself that I’m no longer the woman in love with her man. He’s my man now, and aside from that one tiny little kiss over a year ago, I’ve never done her wrong. Well, if you don’t count the whole accusing her of harassing me business.
“Lydia, hi,” I say.
Her eyes travel around the crowded space, and when she’s confident in what she sees—or doesn’t see—she approaches me and reaches out, touching my forearm. It’s gentle, but this is Lydia and me, so every little movement and word is loaded with a sordid history that I’d rather not repeat.
“Sorry about the—” I say and stop. I don’t know how to finish that thought. She shakes her head, though, and offers me a sad smile. This is so not good. Where in the hell is Jameson when I need him?
Chapter 22
Melanie
“You had every right to think it was me who was harassing you. I’m sure after he told you what I did, you hate me. I don’t blame you. I just wanted to tell you that I hope you know the gift you’ve been given.” Her eyes lift for a moment before she straightens her back and her attention is back on me.
“We are talking about Jameson, right?” I ask. I’ve been making an ass out of myself all evening. I can’t bear to do it again. Not with her. I almost miss her comment about how I probably hate her. I don’t even know what she’s talking about, but I plan to find out.
“I wanted to be it for him so bad. He was it for me,” she says with a nod to confirm my suspicions. “Just, please appreciate it. He’s different with you. You scared me.”
I could be angry with her for telling me to take care of him, like she’s suggesting that I might not be able to. But instead I choose a different route. I’m tired of making questionable choices with her.
“I’m different with him, too,” I admit. My eyes well with tears because the longer she stands in front of me, looking so defeated, the harder it is to not feel her pain myself. “It killed me to see him with you.”
“I guess we’re still in love with the same man,” she says, and tears rush to her eyes. I have to take a deep breath to keep myself from crying for her. I don’t even like her all that much, but that’s got nothing to do with who she is as Lydia and more to do with who she was as Lydia, Jameson’s girlfriend.
“I’m sorry you lost him,” I say and can’t stop my face from scrunching up. I don’t like being this honest with her when I’m not even sure it won’t get me into a catfight, but it’s like the floodgates are open. “I know now what you had, and I don’t think I’d ever get over it if I lost him.”
Thick, muscled arms wrap around my waist as Jameson pulls me to him. He doesn’t say a word and just acts as though he’s not really there. Lydia flinches but doesn’t look surprised by his presence. I let myself relax into his chest no matter how awkward it may be as I’m spilling my guts to his ex-girlfriend who has every reason to hate me.
“What you have with him is so much more than what I had,” she says and her eyes lift to meet his.
I choke up at her words, and a tear falls down my cheek. Shit. She’s supposed to be awful, and I’m supposed to be able to hate her, but she’s not making it very easy.
“I’m sorry,” she says to him with her eyes full of tears. What the hell did she do to him? There’s obviously more to their breakup than he’s shared with me.
“We both fucked up,” he says softly. “You’re going to find a guy who will be better to you, Lyd.”
Something about his comment strikes her especially hard, and she places her hand over her mouth and lets the tears fall freely. I want to pull away from him, barely able to handle this crazy-insane emotional display in such a crowded room. I totally forgot about all the people surrounding us. We’ve drawn a small audience, most of whom are trying to pretend they’re not watching this little heart to heart that is really quite inappropriate for such a public venue.
She excuses herself and darts for the ladies room while trying to cover her face. Jameson holds me closer and dips his lips to my ear where he places a soft kiss on the shell. “Lulu’s Song” starts up in the background, and he sways us from one side to the other gently before whispering, “She’ll get over it.”
I think he means she’ll get over him, but I doubt it. She’s lost something amazing and irreplaceable. There’s no getting over a man like Jameson Hayes. Even the thought of trying leaves darts of pain in my gut.