Lead (Stage Dive, #3)

The corner of his mouth twitched. “What can I say? You interest me, not many do.”


“That’s great and I feel all warm and tingly about it. But I’m still not telling you what goes on between me and another man.” I got my legs moving again, the stumbling gait of what passed for me jogging. Such style. Such grace.

A moment later, he fell into step beside me. As always, his long legs and fitness levels made a mockery of my huffing and puffing.

“C’mon, Lena. You can’t let me live a little vicariously through you?”

“Nope.”

“Aren’t you impressed I even know the word, a high school dropout like me?” He chuckled, but he didn’t sound exactly happy about it.

“No.”

He gave me a cynical smile. “Right.”

“With everything you’ve accomplished in your life, you think I’d doubt your drive or intelligence?”

“All the drugs and shit you mean? Yeah, I accomplished a fuck load of that.”

“You’re a successful businessman and a seasoned, multi-award-winning, critically acclaimed musician,” I countered. “Shock horror, you made some mistakes. Who the hell hasn’t? You paid for them and moved on.”

His eyes narrowed. “That what you really think of me?”

“Yes. You also have a sad tendency to be an occasional jerk but we’re working on that. I have great hopes for your complete recovery.”

The rigid set of his jaw let me know he wasn’t convinced. Insecurity over his education obviously ran deep.

“It’s not like I went to college,” I said. “I didn’t do well enough to get a scholarship. A friend’s dad owned a business and he gave me a chance to try out as the receptionist, lucky for me. Otherwise, I’d probably be flipping burgers for the next fifty years.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

We ran for a while in silence. But of course, he couldn’t leave it alone, could he?

“So, tell me what constitutes a good first date, Lena? You know about this sort of shit. Teach me, how do you woo a girl, hmm?”

“Can’t talk. Jogging.”

He snorted.

Neither of us spoke for half a block and just as well. Conversation with Jimmy was hazardous to my health. The man really did need to come with a big red warning sticker on his forehead. Actually, the sticker should cover all of his face. If you only had to deal with his hot body you might stand a chance resisting. Oh, and his voice—good god, his voice—it was created to make a girl’s sex parts sing. Not that I wanted to think about sex or singing or Jimmy, nor any lustful and passionate variation of all three combined.

My mind, however, was clearly against me.

“You know, I think I’m improving,” I said eventually. My need to fill silences was a definite weakness. “I’m not getting winded so easily.”

“Good. So you’re going out with him again?”

“Are we still talking about this?”

“Yes. Why’re you giving him a second date?”

I groaned. “Because he was nice.”

“You’re sure using that word a lot. Nice. He’s nice. You had a nice time. I don’t think any woman’s ever used that word when it comes to me.”

I peeled wet strands of hair from my cheek. “You can be nice when it suits you.”

“I don’t want to be nice, Lena.” He chuckled. “But you using it to describe Dean makes me think that dating him is about as interesting as sitting through a business meeting with Adrian. Maybe you should date someone else.”

“Hey, Dean was a lot of fun to be with. For one, he doesn’t pester me with inappropriate personal questions like you do.”

“You going to fuck him?”

“Jimmy!”

“What?” He barely hid back a smirk. “What’s the problem?”

“I am certain there was something in the employment contract about never raising the subject of sex. Also, you’re being rude.”

“The employment contract?” A dimple flashed. “I think we’re a bit beyond that, don’t you?”

He had a point. “Probably, yes.”

“If I cared about the employment contract I could have fired you day two.”

“You could not have.”

He gave me an amused glance.

“Well, maybe a little. But your life would have been the poorer for it.”

“Right,” he deadpanned. “What if he’d taken you to an expensive restaurant? Would you have let him feel you up then?”

“Are you suggesting I prostitute myself for a linen table cloth and a three-course meal?”

“Just wondering. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Holy shit, you’re serious.” The man made my head spin in all the ways. We really did come from different worlds. “That’s so … incredibly …”

“What?”

“Sad. Just sad. Jimmy, you need to aim a little higher. Try dating people that aren’t going to fall onto their backs with their legs spread based on proof of your bank balance alone.”

“It keeps life simple, easy.”

“Ea-sy. Huh. You know, easy doesn’t seem to have done you much good. In fact, easy made a mess of things for you from what I can see.”

More eye rolling. If he kept that up he might just do himself damage.

“The right sort of complication might be just what you need, Jimmy.”

“Waste of time.” His voice was absolute. “If it isn’t happening on the first date, why go back for more?”

“Hmm, I think you need to figure that one out for yourself.” The world blurred for a moment and I blinked the sting of sweat out of my eyes. “Do you only hang out with a woman if you want to have sex with her?”

“Pretty much … apart from you.” He pushed back his hair. Only just did I manage to keep my lusty sigh to myself. It was really quite sad how much I enjoyed such a simple thing.

“What about this girl who’s coming to visit you?”

“What about her?”

“Well, is she just for sex or are you actually going to attempt to have some sort of relationship with her?”

“I dunno,” he said. “Haven’t given it any thought.”

So many things I could say. None of them seemed quite right or unbiased, however.

“So what if it’s just sex?” he said.

“Don’t you want more?”

“Got everything I need. You said I should try going out more. That’s what I’m doing. If I happen to be doing that with a girl I like to fuck, what’s the big deal? I got you to talk to, I don’t need a relationship, whatever you’re thinking that is.”

I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands. Stupid sweat, so messy and inconvenient. Of all the human secretions to experience around him, he had to inflict this one upon me.

He just shook his head at my apparent foolishness. “So, what, you put out date three or four? There about?”

I stopped, staring at him with absolute wonder. “Do I ask you how often you jerk off, Jimmy?”

“Least once a day, lately.” He threw the information out there like it didn’t even matter. “My libido kind of disappeared there for a while but it’s back with a vengeance now. You’re probably right on with the dating idea because if I don’t get something soon I’m gonna break my fucking wrist.”

“Stop it!” I covered my ears, taking deep, even breaths. That was the key. Any lurid pictures of Jimmy fisting himself just could stay the hell right out of my mind, my dirty, smutty, way overly descriptive mind. “We’re not the kind of friends that talk about this stuff.”

“You take sex too seriously.”

I stopped trying to block him out given I couldn’t if I tired. “I do, huh?”

“Yes.” And his smile, oh god his smile, I wanted to wipe it off his face with a pickaxe. I’d be gentle, you could trust me.

“While you don’t take feelings seriously at all,” I said. “They’re a joke to you.”

“They’re not a joke to me. But the two don’t have to go together. That’s the mistake you make.”

“Oh, god, Jimmy, this is so clichéd. You’re the man whore and I’m the sensitive chick. And I’m not even particularly sensitive, for heaven’s sake, it’s just that compared to you …”