Diving Into Him (5 page)

Rain pattered against the double windows in Jett’s bedroom. She lay huddled underneath her blankets against the spring morning chill. Grey light filtered in through her blinds. She still hadn’t picked up curtains for her room—or the rest of the condo. Maybe she should. It would probably feel more like hers. Koty
had
put her name on the mortgage, too, after all.

Her alarm cut into the stillness. Without looking at it, she reached out for her nightstand and shut it off. Silence settled over her bedroom again. She stared at the ceiling. A cloud as grey as the light from outside pressed down on her brain, making it hard to think or focus. A glass of whiskey would cut through that noise, she mused. A few glasses would help her slip into a black fog. She wondered if a couple of drinks would hurt, or if it would be the start down the road back to treatment.

It would be nice if she could just sleep all day. Hibernating in her bed, she could shield herself against her failures. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spent a day just relaxing.

The alarm blared. Gritting her teeth, she reached over and turned it off. She sighed. She had only been able to set three on the device. She needed to get out of bed and get moving. She was supposed to be at the studio in an hour. Closing her eyes again, she rolled onto her stomach.

She didn’t want to go to the studio. If she couldn’t even get her new band members to write even one song together, she would never be able to get a cohesive set ready for the show.

Slender fingers yanked the comforter over her head. Her breath warmed the space around her. Darkness bathed her body. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. She couldn’t believe that she had scheduled a show and forgotten about it. She tried to remember the conversation that she had with the owner of the bar, how she could have convinced him to pay her up front. Unable to recall, she assumed that Perpetual Smile’s reputation had won his trust. She wondered what she had done with the money. Guilt curdled in her stomach.

She had probably spent it all on booze. It probably hadn’t even occurred to her to put some of it aside into the band’s bank account. Technically, none of the other members of Perpetual Smile had been paid. She had drank it away, and she had no idea how she was going to pay the guys in South of Forever.

Her lip curled. The static in her head increased, burying her in scrambled white noise. No matter how hard she tried to do the right thing, she just kept messing up. She wondered why anyone she knew put up with her. Koty looked at her as if she was some kind of goddess. Even Griff, who she had technically screwed over time and time again, had made amends with her. He was giving up a potentially great career to follow her. She sneered. There was nothing about her that was worth following. She would probably run her new band into the ground, too, and when she did, there would be no none left to help her dig out of the mess she made.

Knuckles rapped on her bedroom door. She groaned. Koty was probably showered and dressed, the beard he was growing scented with the soap he used to wash his face. It had a clean, masculine scent. Combined with the scent of his deodorant or cologne—she still couldn’t tell which—it made her dizzy. She didn’t have to try very hard to remember the way it smelled. It reminded her of pine and warm sawdust.

She pulled the blankets over her head even tighter. Koty was the last person that she wanted to see. He would try to say something inspiring to get her out of bed, all while making her crazy with lust. It had been way too long since she had sex. No matter how much logic told her that getting back together with Koty was a bad idea, it was starting to sound more and more appealing. She had already dragged him through the mud. He was still at her side. He even bought a house with her. That had to count for something.

Still, common sense and experience told her that the more time she spent in bed, the worse she would feel. Her bones ached to just lay down all day, though. Maybe she would finally learn to love the movies they played on those television channels for women.

He rapped on her door again, harder.

Groaning, she wrapped the blankets around herself in a cocoon. “Go away.” She had to raise her voice to be heard through her cave and the door.

“Fine,” Griff called back to her. “I’ll just go back to LA.”

Eyes widening, she tossed the blankets off of her. She slid out of bed, practically tripping over her own feet as she lurched for the door. Yanking it open, she stared at him. Her hair fell around her face in rumpled waves. The T-shirt she had worn to bed wrinkled around her knees. She didn’t care.

Griff stood in the hall, his arms crossed over his leather jacket. Two heads taller than her, he smirked down at her.

“You dyed your hair,” she blurted, staring up at his once dirty blonde locks. He had lightened it.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Does this work for your band’s image?” He pointed to the messy fake mohawk he had sculpted with gel.

She reached up, running her fingers over his shaved face. “It’s really you.”

“Who else did you expect?” The smirk remained on his face, but his greyish blue eyes glinted.

“I just didn’t expect you to get here so soon.” Giddiness replaced the pit of depression in her stomach. With her old friend standing in front of her, she felt more complete, more centered.

He shrugged. “I told you I was taking the next flight.”

“I didn’t think you meant it literally.” She grinned up at him.

His dimples appeared. “I was done with LA, anyway. That place is always a pain in the ass.”

“Tell me about it.” Her arms twitched. She wanted to wrap him in a bear hug. Things were probably still awkward between them, though. She hugged herself, instead.

Griff jerked a thumb toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee. I grabbed your favorite.”

Whistling, she plucked her bathrobe from a folding chair and followed him, tying it around her as she padded after him. "You’re spoiling me."

Koty sat at the island on a stool, fingers gliding over the screen of his iPad. He swiped through whatever he was looking at quickly, eyes scanning the screen. Griff looked over his shoulder at Jett. He raised a questioning eyebrow, glancing back over at Koty pointedly and then jerking his chin toward her.

She knew exactly what he meant. Shaking her head, she reached for the gigantic coffee in its cardboard container. Inhaling the scent of the roast, she took a tiny sip, testing it. The liquid didn’t scorch her tongue, so she took a swig. Even though it couldn’t possibly work that quickly, she already felt more herself. Coffee always helped bring her back to center—especially since she stopped drinking.

“So how did it go last night?” Griff asked, grabbing his own coffee.

Hopping up onto a stool, she shook her head. “It sucked.” She filled him in, leaving nothing out—even the parts about the men arguing, and how she felt more like a hall monitor than a musician. “I don’t know what to do.” She took another sip of coffee. All of the caffeine in the world wouldn’t make her a better band leader. Phillip had instantly won everyone’s respect when they started Perpetual Smile. Griff and the other members of the band had listened to him, and to her by extension. The men in Perpetual Smile had never argued—until she started drinking and making a mess of things, anyway.

Maybe the common denominator, she surmised, was her.

Griff leaned against the island. His fingers moved to stroke his beard, then his arm fell to his side. “I just had them shave it yesterday.” He ducked his head, sighing dramatically. “I feel naked.”

Koty looked up from his iPad. He touched the light beard on his face.

Without having to get close, Jett could feel the gentle sandpaper scrape against her skin. Even with the cup of coffee shielding her, she could still smell the scent of the cool soap he used over the warm timber scent of his flesh. She pressed her knees together, hard enough to bruise.

The men exchanged beard brotherhood nods. Jett rolled her eyes. If she had any money to her name, she would have bet that Griff would start regrowing his immediately. She would probably never understand the revered awe that men held toward their facial hair. Women, on the other hand, plucked and waxed every single stray that appeared. Some even removed their eyebrows completely, preferring to draw them on. Jett shuddered. Her eyebrows weren’t perfect, but she would never be able to pull off drawing them by hand. That was one thing that she wasn’t cocky enough to try.

She took another swig of coffee. “So what do you think?” she asked Griff. “Have I dug myself into another hole, or what?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Koty shake his head. “You’re doing the best you can,” he said.

She snorted. “It’s obviously not good enough. You heard them. Perry even brought up the whole ESX thing.”

Koty winced. He still didn’t like to talk about the brief period that he had spent as the face of the world’s hottest boy band. Even without him, ESX was still touring. They had replaced him with another young twenty-something-year-old with a baby face. She felt sorry for Koty. If South of Forever didn’t do well, he would forever be known as the guy who had been in a boy band.

The beard on his face made him look like a rock star sex god, though, she mused. Lowering her eyes, she stared at the chipped paint on her fingernails. He had always been a great lover. Shedding the boy band and giving himself a more roughed up image made him look the part. Warmth pooled in her belly, and she bit down on the inside of her lower lip. She needed to get laid, and soon. Maybe she should buy a vibrator. She tried to imagine laying in her room alone at night. She wondered if Koty would hear it from across the hall. Heat spread across her cheeks and bit at the back of her neck. She needed to stop thinking about sex, and she definitely needed to stop thinking about Koty. She turned her attention to Griff.

He elbowed her in the ribs, gently. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I’m going to save your ass again.” He snickered.

“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow at him. “And how are you going to do that?”

He lifted his coffee in a salute. “I’ve got a plan.”

The trunk of Griff’s rental car was packed to the brim. Jett closed the lid. It bounced right back open. Jutting a hip out, she put her hand on her hip, shaking her head at the thing in mock disappointment.

“What’s the problem?” Griff jogged down the front walk, carrying a small amplifier.

“That’s not going to fit.” She tried closing the trunk again. The door refused to latch.

“Here.” Griff handed the amplifier to her. He grabbed the door of the trunk with both hands and slammed it down hard. It latched, but remained cracked open.

“What’s with this?” She held up the small amplifier. She had no idea why he had grabbed it. The studio had enough for all of them, and they probably wouldn’t even need them all at once. She had bought it when she was a teenager, and it somehow survived every move.

He opened the passenger door. Sweeping an arm, he gestured for her to get in. “You can put it at your feet.”

“Do we even need it?” She lifted an eyebrow at him.

Griff shrugged. “Maybe it’s superstitious of me, but I feel like it’s our lucky charm. Do you know that it’s been at every Perpetual Smile practice?”

Jett frowned, staring down at the little amp. Chewing on her lip, she ran through the hundreds and hundreds of rehearsal sessions she had spent with her former band. As she thought about it, she realized that he was right. “That’s weird,” she said. She lifted it into the air. “Someone always grabbed it by mistake.”

“Or maybe it was divine intervention.” Griff winked at her, then jogged around to the driver’s side.

She glanced at the front door of the condo, wondering where Koty was.

“He’s coming,” Griff called from the inside of the car. He started the engine.

Shrugging, Jett got into the car. She tucked the amplifier in front of her feet. She hoped that it actually was lucky. They were going to need all that they could get.

Koty jogged out of the house. He slid into the back seat without a word. Griff pulled out of the visitor spot in front of their condo, easing the car toward the exit of the complex. Jett glanced at Koty in the side mirror. He gazed out of the window. Twisting her lips to the side, she tore her gaze away. What he did shouldn’t matter to her anymore.

They drove in silence. Griff turned on the complementary satellite radio. “I could get used to this,” he remarked as he fiddled with the buttons, searching for a good station.

Jett watched out of her window as they passed brick sidewalks and art galleries. It was weird to be in a car instead of walking. Usually everywhere they needed to go was in the SoWa district, and if not, there was always the T. She wondered if she and Koty would ever get their own car. She had never owned a vehicle.

They pulled in front of the studio. Griff parallel parked between two SUVs. He whipped the little Hyundai into the spot on his first try.

“This thing is amazing.” He grinned.

Jett shook her head, smirking.

Climbing out of the car, they collected their equipment. Jett led the way up into the studio, her heart pounding in her chest. Koty and Griff traipsed behind her. She hoped that things would go better than the day before. Pulling her key out of her pocket, she unlocked the door. They filed inside. Koty flipped on the lights.

Griff whistled. “Not bad.” He nodded at the sound booth. “We can even record an EP in here.”

Jett put her guitar and the amplifier down, and held up her hands. “Whoa, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

“Why not?” Griff jerked a thumb toward the microphones in the sound booth. “Those are pretty sick looking.” He walked over to the mixing board, running his fingers over it. “I can work this thing, too. Once we have this set written, it can double as our debut.”

She wiped sweaty palms on her thighs. Even through the thick sweater leggings she wore, she could feel the moisture. “We’ll see how it goes.” She tapped the amplifier. “Where should I put this?”

Griff shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just our good luck charm.”

The door to the studio opened. Max and Perry burst inside, practically shoving each other.

“See what I mean?” Jett muttered to Griff. She crossed her arms.

“Good morning,” Perry purred. He looked much better than he had the last time she saw him. He wore his dreads gathered and tied hanging over his shoulder. Feathers wove in and out of his thick locks. For once, he didn’t smell like alcohol.

Max shoved his hands into his pockets. He gave Jett a shy nod.

“Who’s he?” Perry pointed at Griff. “Is he your boyfriend?”

Jett rolled her eyes. “He’s just our drummer.”

“Oh, good,” Perry purred. 

Griff snorted. “Just? So, there’s not even a chance, huh?”

“Naw,” Perry said. “It’s just that I’ve got first dibs.” He shot a frisky smile at her, one eyebrow quirked.

Jett cleared her throat. “No one has dibs on me.” She crossed the room and stood next to the piano, leaning against it. “There won’t be any dating within this band, anyway.”

“That won’t be a problem for me.” Max laughed. “I’ve got Savannah, and I’m straight.”

Perry cocked an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that?”

Max gave him a glare, his brown eyes flat. In less than twenty-four hours, he had perfected a scowl just for Perry. Jett wanted to laugh.

Instead, she changed the subject. As she spoke, she realized that Koty hadn’t said a word since the other two men joined them. She shoved him to the back of her thoughts. She didn’t have time to worry about his feelings. Besides, it wasn’t as if she and Perry were dating. She had clearly said that she wasn’t going to be anyone’s girlfriend. “Griff is going to help us whip this set into shape.” She nodded at her old friend.

His voice reverberated throughout the room. He began unpacking his drum kit. “First of all, I’m here to help, but she’s the real magic. She built Perpetual Smile from the ground up. We weren’t millionaires, but we sold out shows and recorded albums that flew off the shelves. That was mostly her.”

Blushing, she shifted her weight. “Knock it off, Whalen,” she said, using his last name.

“You guys can learn a lot from her. Just ask Koty.”

Heat flooded Jett’s cheeks. Even though she knew he didn’t mean it like
that
, she still felt exposed, as if she had done something wrong. She wondered what the other men would think of her no dating policy if they knew about her prior relationship with Koty. Sucking in her cheeks, she strapped on her guitar. “Enough about me.” She plugged the guitar into an amp and played a few notes, making sure it was tuned. “Let’s get to work.”

Griff held up a finger. He addressed Max and Perry. “You guys want to take this seriously, because not only will Jett give you a great start to a stellar music career, but you’re also going to get paid.”

Biting back a snort, Jett shot him a look. He had to know that she didn’t have the money.

Ignoring her, he told the men to gear up. As they checked their instruments, he finished unpacking his kit. Then, sticks in hand, he sat behind the drums.

Jett gazed around the room. Energy thrummed through her at the sight of a complete band. She glanced at the tiny amplifier in the corner of the room. Maybe Griff had been right about it. Or maybe, she surmised, watching the men take their places, it was just that Griff was more commanding than she was.

A slow drum beat filled the room, the bass drum resounding throughout the room. “I wanna start this song on bass. Perry, give me a slow line. Make it sexy. We’re going to let it prowl.”

Fingers strumming, Perry played a few notes. They wrapped around each other, the bluesy sound of the bass yearning, two notes alternating, deep and mourning. Griff gave him a thumbs up.

“Max, I want you to bring in some piano, real slow. Deep notes,” Griff said.

Nodding, Max hunched over the keys. His fingers glided, teasing out a haunting melody that wove in and out of Perry’s bass line.

Jett bounced on the balls of her feet, a smile playing on her lips. “That’s good, guys. I like that.”

Griff twirled his fingers, signaling them to repeat the melody. As they neared the end, he kicked in some drums on a higher note.

Fingers poised over the strings of her guitar, she tilted her head at him. “When do you want me to come in?”

Griff shook his head. He motioned to Koty. “I want Koty to bring in the guitar on the chorus, but minimally. Think long, drawn out notes.”

Koty’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he played a couple of notes.

Jett cocked her head at Griff. “What am I doing?”

“What you do best.” He nodded to the notebook still sitting on the top of the piano. “Get some lyrics going.”

She hesitated. She hadn’t written a song since before Phillip passed away. A twinge wrung her heart. She blinked away tears. Perpetual Smile had worked because Griff and the other members worked on the music while she and Phillip played with lyrics. Their sessions were simply just hours of experimenting. South of Forever was going to use the same method, because she and Griff didn’t know any better.

“I can write with you,” Perry cooed. His eyes burned into hers from underneath long lashes.

She tossed him a look. “No.” She crossed the room and grabbed the notebook and a pen. The men repeated the beginning of the song, tweaking it almost telepathically. She smiled. “
This
is why I wanted you,” she told Griff. Then, she got to work.

As the guys played, her pen moved across the page, trying out different words. She crossed out more than she kept. They started a fifth round of the piece they had composed so far. Griff pressed record on his laptop so that he could write out the music later. Her words turned to scribbles, ink curling around the inside of the page, framing in what she crossed out. By the seventh round, she started humming. Several rounds later, she began adding words, alternating possible lyrics with nonsense.

They stopped only for a quick lunch break, and had a couple of pizzas delivered to the studio. Jett only went outside to smoke. She and Griff, it seemed, were the only smokers in the band. Eventually, she needed to quit. If nothing else, it would help her sing better.

“What do you think?” she asked Griff, exhaling a stream of smoke into the afternoon sky. “Are we going to make it?”

He smoked in silence for a moment. “We’re making good time on this song. It’s flowing better than I expected. You did a great job picking people.”

She waved a hand at him. “I didn’t have much to work with.”

“You could have fooled me.” He tossed his cigarette into the street. “I’ll see you upstairs.” He opened the door and disappeared inside.

Considering his words, she finished her cigarette. Then, shrugging, she dashed upstairs to join the guys.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of scribbled notes and lyrics, vocal warmups, and sweat. Long after the sun set and night bathed the streets of Boston, Jett told her men to pack up.

“Good,” Perry purred. “The bars are still open.” He zipped up his bass. Slinging it over his shoulder, he sauntered out the door without so much as a “goodnight.”

Koty snorted, shaking his head. “That guy.” His jaw flexed.

Jett shrugged. She unplugged the amplifiers and began rolling up her extension cord.

Shifting from foot to foot, Max indicated the rest of the equipment. “Need a hand getting that all downstairs?”

Jett shook her head. “The three of us brought it up. Go home to your family.” She gave him a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He took a step toward the door, though.

“I’m positive. It’s late. You probably want to see your little girl, even if she’s sleeping.” Jett gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks,” he said. He slipped out the door.

“You should have made them both stay,” Koty said, zipping his guitar into its case.

She collected empty styrofoam cups that had held coffee. “Why?” Crossing the room to the small garbage, she lifted her eyebrows at Koty.

“Because now they think they can just take advantage—especially that Perry guy.” He peeled duct tape from the carpet, exposing wires.

“You can leave that,” Griff said. “We’ll only have to tape it all down again in the morning.”

Jett nodded in agreement. “You really don’t like Perry, huh?” She made herself meet Koty’s eyes.

Grabbing a box of equipment, Griff headed toward the door. “I’ll be in the car.”

“We’re coming,” she said, grabbing her own box. Griff disappeared down the stairs, though, leaving them alone.

“So what if I don’t like him?” Koty asked. He picked up the two remaining boxes and followed her into the hall.

Balancing her box on one knee, she locked the door to the studio. Koty held out a hand to steady the box. She resisted the urge to jerk away from him. It wasn’t as if he was touching her, she reminded herself. He was just trying to help. Swallowing hard, she pocketed the key. Righting the box, she nodded toward the stairs.

“Are you going to answer me?” Koty asked. He let her go down first.

She sighed. “I need everyone to get along.”

“He said that I don’t belong in the band.”

She turned on the stairs. His eyes bore into hers. She exhaled a long breath through her nose. Several moments slipped past them. They stood in the dim stairwell. Outside, she heard Griff tap the horn lightly. “Does his opinion matter that much to you?” she asked finally.

“Do I have to keep proving myself to everyone?” He lifted an eyebrow at her. Even in the dark, she could see the blue of his eyes, sucking her in.

Her breath caught in her throat. Dizziness swam over her. She put one hand on the railing, steadying herself. His ice blue eyes seemed to melt, imploring her, yet commanding her at the same time. She wished that he would stop giving her those eyes. It was as if he used that look only for her. She didn’t know how he did it. She also didn’t know how she had been able to resist him for so long, with eyes like that.

Taking a deep breath, she turned away from him. She took one step down, then another. Her boots scuffled against the wooden stairs. Quickening her pace, she descended as quickly as possible. “You’re always going to have to prove yourself in this business,” she said over her shoulder as she broke into the cool night. “If you want the easy road, go back to your boy band.” She strode toward the open trunk.