Lead (Stage Dive, #3)

Color suffused Jimmy’s face.

I cleared my throat. “Back to Tom’s previous experience, which I think it’s important to note, unlike me, he actually has some in a relevant field—”

“No.”

I blinked. “What?”

“No. You’re not quitting.”

“Ah, yes. I am.”

He shook his head just the once, but it was a fierce shake, brutal even. I’m surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. And while I’d known he probably wouldn’t embrace my decision, I hadn’t expected this level of obstinacy. “I’m a secretary, Jimmy. Not an addiction counselor. Fact is, I never should have taken the job in the first place. I’m not qualified, nor am I particularly good at it.”

“I think I’m in a better position to make that call. Hell, Lena. This is ridiculous, what is it you want me to say?”

I shrugged, surprised by his response. “Goodbye, I guess. And if you wouldn’t mind, a letter of recommendation would be nice.”

For a moment he said nothing, just let his head fall back so he could stare at the ceiling. The muscles in his neck were thick, veins stark beneath the skin. “What’s the real issue here? You want more money?”

“No. To be honest, you’re probably paying me too much as it is. Not that I’m volunteering for a decrease.”

“Then what?” His gaze bored into me, eyes a lighter shade than his brothers. Jimmy’s eyes were like a cloudless sky, the perfect blue. They were beautiful, but rarely serene. And God help me for even noticing, let alone getting poetic.

“Why do you want me to stay so badly?” I threw up my hands. “Most days you barely tolerate me. Last week you stopped speaking entirely and just grunted at me for three days.” Suddenly you can’t bear for us to be apart? Come on.”

Ben chuckled. “She’s got a point.”

“Later, Benny,” Jimmy said without taking his eyes off me.

“Right. Have fun, guys.” The big man ambled on out, not particularly bothering to hide his smile.

“I just … I got a bit moody last week.” He crossed his arms and said in a rush, “But it wasn’t nothing to do with you.”

“No, of course not. But I have to live with you. So when you get into these moods, it affects me. ”

Further scowling.

“Not that this is about us.” I shook my head. “I mean, there is no us. I don’t know why I even used the word. This decision is just about me. It’s time for me to move on.”

Jimmy’s jaw clenched. “I don’t like change.”

“We’ll make the handover as smooth as possible.”

“I’m used to you being around. We get on okay. Why the fuck should I have to go through all the trouble of breaking-in someone new just because you’ve got your panties in a twist over something that probably doesn’t even matter?”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I was officially stupefied. Over the breaking-in or panties comments I couldn’t quite say, though really, neither should have surprised me. This was Jimmy in all his glory, rude as fuck and not a single social nicety to him. At least I was willing to pretend to get along with people the bulk of the time.

“Well?” he barked. When I took too long to answer he tugged his red sweatshirt off over his head, using it to wipe down his face.

“My reasons, which are personal, do matter. Maybe not to you, but they matter to me.”

He looked off to the side, his lips drawn wide in a truly aggrieved expression. Had any man ever been quite so badly treated? No, I think not, according to that face.

“I’ve made up my mind,” I said.

“I’ll pay you twenty percent more.”

“Were you even listening? This is not about money.”

“Fuck’s sake. Fifty.”

I screwed up my nose. “Jimmy—”

His hand sliced through the air. “Enough. I’ll double it. You cut the shit and we don’t talk about it again, understood? Now I got stuff to do.”

“Stop!” I yelled.

He stared at me, unblinking. Hostility seemed to ooze from his very pores.

“I’m leaving.”

“Why?” he asked, through gritted teeth. “C’mon, you at least owe me an explanation, Lena.”

Outside, it started to rain, the heavy grey clouds finally giving it up. And still Jimmy waited. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sight of him. Oh god, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. This wasn’t going at all like I had planned.

“I know we’re not best friends, but I thought we got along okay,” he said.

“We do, basically.”

“Well, then?”

“I’m not right for this job.”

“Look at me.”

I opened one eye, he actually looked reasonably calm. His big arms were crossed, sweaty shirt plastered to his buff chest, but otherwise, he didn’t seem too angry. So I opened the other eye, too. Brave of me, I know.

“Unlike the other sobriety companions, you don’t completely piss me off,” he said.

“I know. I’m mostly useful.” I laughed. Not that it was particularly funny. “Gah! Why are you fighting me so hard on this?”

“Because the record company and Adrian would still like someone around to keep an eye on things. I happen to agree it’s not a completely bad idea,” he said. “I don’t need you counseling me and messing with my head, giving me your version of whatever philosophical bullshit turns you on. I just need you to be here. How is that so hard?”

“It’s not. But it doesn’t explain why you’re so hell-bent on that person being me.”

“Look, you’re basically the best out of the bunch, okay? Someone else might be far worse. I’m not going to risk it. You have to stay.”

My nose wrinkled up, I could feel it.

“Hang on, is this about what happened before the funeral?” he asked.

My mouth opened but I had nothing. He didn’t mean when he clung to me, but thanks to my guilty conscience, it was all I could think of.

“It is.” His forehead furrowed. He shoved a hand into his hair and grabbed a fistful, tugging on it. “That was … there were extenuating circumstances. You were never in any physical danger from me, Lena. Not ever.”

“I know.”

“Do you? I get that I freaked you out,” he said. “I know I trashed that room, but I would never—”

“It’s not about that.”

“So what’s the problem?”

I turned away, mind scrambling for a plausible lie of an excuse. There must be something I could use, letting him think I was physically afraid of him wasn’t tenable. He had more than enough issues to contend with.

“It is the problem.” He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “Fuck.”

“No. It’s really not. I get that you were in a bad place that day.”

“Then what? What do you need here, an apology?” Irritation filled his eyes. “Fuck’s sake. I’m sorry, okay?”

My jaw fell slack. “Wow. You are breathtakingly bad at apologizing, aren’t you?”

His cell buzzed on the counter. We both ignored it.

“Jimmy, for future reference, when you apologize to someone you might want to sound like you actually mean it. Consider not sneering or swearing at them, perhaps. Hmm?”

He kicked his scuffed his foot against the floor looking for all the world like a schoolboy being scolded. “Okay. Sorry … and stuff.”

“Slightly better.”

“So we done here? We good?” he asked, already moving toward the door.

“Can I tell Tom Monday suits you?”

“Lena! Shit.” He made a noise of sheer exasperation. “Why?”

The words stuck in my throat. I could have choked on them which was probably a better fate than letting them out, all things considered. The tension coiled inside of me, huge and horrible. If only I could have disappeared into thin air.

“WHY?” The ass shouted, the sound reverberating around the room.

“Because I have feelings for you, alright! And don’t yell at me.”

Silence.

Absolute, pure, silence.

Little lines appeared beside his nose. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“You have feelings for me?” The way he drew out the word, rolling it over his tongue like the taste disgusted him and belittled us both. I might never recover.