“We’ve talked enough for one night.”
But he did flick off the light, leaving the glow of the bedside lamp on its lonesome. Then he walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down. He shucked off his shoes and, good god help me, lay down upon his back. Hands folded over his flat stomach he stared at the ceiling, giving it his usual frown of discontent.
Jimmy was on the bed with me.
I swear to you, my loins actually quivered.
This was better than my birthday and Christmas rolled into one, aching ankle or no. The most beautiful man I’d ever met lying close enough to almost touch. He was outright gorgeous. Ridiculously so. His face in profile, the curves of his lips and the perfect line of his nose. I didn’t have words to describe him. I didn’t have anything. My heart beat double time but I could ignore it.
“Are you okay?” I asked, voice little more than a whisper.
“Better than you.”
He’d said he’d talked enough. So, in my infinite wisdom, I actually let it go for once.
“You really do need mirrors on your ceiling,” I said.
He cut his eyes to the side and gave me an impatient look. “Where the fuck do you come up with these ideas?”
I laughed.
“Enough.” He reached out, switching off the bedside lamp. “Close your eyes and go to sleep. This day has been too damn long.”
“What about the boot?”
“I’ll get up when the boot comes.”
“All right.”
We didn’t talk for a while. Then, out of nowhere, came a mumbled, “Thanks for coming home.”
I searched for his free hand, grabbing hold once I found it. His fingers wrapped tight around mine I smiled in the darkness. “Any time.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Oh my god, this soufflé is amazing. It’s like heaven in my mouth. Heaven, Jimmy, do you hear me?” I licked the last of the chocolate off my spoon then tried to find more. Stupid spoon for being empty. Better double-check just in case.
“I hear you.” His gaze followed my tongue up the length of the spoon and he swallowed hard.
Huh.
The rock star in question sat across the table from me, his own breakfast long since eaten. He’d probably been up at the crack of dawn being all fit and energetic. In the basement gym, since paparazzi were lurking around outside given his mom’s interview hitting the airwaves last night. A couple of security guys were out there, keeping an eye on things. So definitely no jogging for various reasons, but on account of my busted ankle I got to lie in bed anyways.
My own lesser bed sadly.
Once the boot had arrived the night before, he’d kicked me out of his room. Well, he’d helped me hobble into mine. At any rate, the end result was the same, I slept alone.
By the time I texted him to come help me down the stairs, he’d already showered and dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt. And now I tasted the abundant leftovers from his grand dinner party the night before. Screw cereal for breakfast, dessert was definitely the go-to. We’d be dining on leftovers for days, homemade pasta with wild mushrooms and pancetta, some exotic fish dish, and the best damn chocolate soufflé with berry coulis I’d tasted in my entire life.
Best. Breakfast. Ever.
“I want to have this soufflé’s babies.”
“Great,” he said, watching me devour the innocent dessert with much zeal. The look on his face concerned me in so much as I couldn’t read it. His eyes were guarded but there was something else there too, something more. An intensity I wasn’t certain I could match at this hour of the morning.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Where there any other words quite so dreaded in all of the human language? I didn’t think I’d done anything, but still …
“About your mom?” I asked hopefully.
“No.” His eyes shuttered. “Nothing to be done about that. She’s played her card and I just want to forget about her now.”
Which was more than fair. “All right. What then?”
“You made up your mind whether you’re going out with Dean again or not?”
This wasn’t so bad. I tapped the silver spoon against my lips, giving it some thought. Our first date had gone so well but then I had run out on him last night. Then there was the one that I forgot because I was out getting ice cream with Jimmy. Odds were, he had no interest in seeing me again.
“I think not,” I said. “He’s a great guy, but … maybe under different circumstances, you know? In another life.”
“Whatever. We need to talk about point five on your list. Point four isn’t working out, so let’s give up on you dating.”
“Hmm.” I set the spoon down in my disappointingly still empty dish. “There wasn’t a point five on my list. There were only four, date other people, focus on your flaws, don’t be pathetic, and get a life, etcetera.”
“Yeah, I made up number five. That list you found was complete and utter bullshit.”
“I’m beginning to come to the same conclusion.”
There was something different about him. A strange sort of tension running through him. He sat forward, elbows on the table, foot tapping out a beat beneath. I could hear it, the constant noise matching the overeager rhythm of my heart. Let’s pretend the sugar rush from the soufflé stirred me up as opposed to the company I was keeping.
“So?” I prodded. “Are you going to tell me what this mysterious point five is?”
“We fuck.”
Everything stopped.
Jimmy stared back at me, totally calm.
This couldn’t be happening.
No. This wasn’t right.
“Get out of here!” I laughed, sitting back in my chair. “God, you nearly had me there for a minute.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure you are.” I rolled my eyes, shook my head, still laughing.
“Thank about it. All dating did was depress the hell out of both of us. And if I’m being entirely honest, I’m feeling a little sexually frustrated too these days. Not to give you TMI Lena, but I haven’t jerked off this much since … ever.”
I laughed.
And I laughed some more.
And then I stopped laughing because Jimmy’s expression hadn’t changed. Not one iota. He just sat there, sizing me up with his cool blue eyes, his mouth a straight, seemingly sincere, line.
“This is a joke,” I croaked on account of my throat closing.
“No. No joke. I say we try fucking to get it out of our system.”
“No joke?” But it had to be. Christ, I couldn’t breathe. Air, I needed air immediately.
Jimmy pushed back his chair, the legs shrieking across the marble. He walked around the table and pulled me up, his hands beneath my arms. “Breathe, Lena. You’re turning blue.”
At his command my lungs kicked into high gear, filling with oxygen. Doing what they ought to. A strong hand rubbed up and down my spine, encouraging. He pushed my chair aside, the solid bulk of him standing directly behind me, warming me.
“You all right?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder.
I nodded.
He didn’t move away. The hand rubbing my back didn’t stop. Man, that felt nice.
“You, ah … you kind of surprised me,” I said.
“Hmm.”