Running with Scissors (33 page)

A.J. studied him, and the hair prickled on the back of

his neck. “We can’t get back together. That—what we were

doing—it’s over. It—”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes, it does. I can’t . . .” He released his breath. Just the

thought of putting this all into words made him want to

col apse. “The secrecy, and the conflict, and all the tension—I can’t do it. In fact, I can’t deal with any of it. Not with you, and not with everyone else. I haven’t said anything yet, but I’m

here until the end of the tour or until they can find someone

to replace me.” He laughed bitterly. “Well, you’ll replace me,

I’m sure, so I guess it’s until they replace you on bass. And

then . . . then I’m out.”

“A.J., you . . . Don’t. Don’t do this.”

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“Why the fuck not?”

“Don’t be stupid like I was and throw this band away.”

“Isn’t that exactly what I’d be doing if I stayed with you?”

Jude winced.

“What do I do?” A.J. swallowed. “If I stay in the band, I’m

face-to-face with you all the time. There’s no going back and

pretending we didn’t—”

“No, there isn’t. But maybe we can move forward.” Jude

straightened, pushing his shoulders back. “You’re a permanent

member of this band. They just brought me back to fill in for

Wyatt. If . . . if anyone’s getting kicked out, it should be me.”

“But this is—”

“I don’t want you to leave the band, and not just because

you’re an amazing, hard-working, talented musician.

I don’t . . . I don’t want you to leave, because—”

“Jude, you founded this band. They don’t have to like

you to know that you’re a better musician than any of us.”

A.J. shook his head. “And I know how much Running with

Scissors means to you. If
you
leave, or they kick you out, you’re going to regret it and so will they.
And
you’re going to resent
me
.”

“And if I stay—”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” A.J. snapped. “There aren’t any

other options. You can’t just walk away like you always do.”

“But you can?”

They held each other’s gazes for a long, silent moment.

“Look,” Jude said finally, “the thing is, it isn’t just a matter of walking away from the band or not. One way or the other,

I have to give up something, and given the choice, I’d rather

have you.”

A.J. straightened. “Do you
hear
yourself?”

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“Yes, I do.” Jude took a breath. “And yes, this band means

the world to me. But what it is now? Everything it’s become

in the last two years?” He shook his head. “That’s been with

you, not me. If they can’t cope with us being together and

being in the band, then I’m out. Not you.”

A.J. stared at him. “Jude, this is
your
band.”

“Not anymore.” Jude met his gaze. “Not unless they’ll let

me stay even though I’m in love with you.”

A.J.’s heart stopped. “You . . . what?”

Jude swallowed. “I love you, A.J.”

His shoulders drooped. “Jude, we can’t . . .”

“We can.” Jude stepped closer. “We shouldn’t. I know we

shouldn’t. But yes, we
can
.”

Sighing, A.J. raked a hand through his hair, and didn’t

even care that he’d probably fucked it all up. “We both need

this band. And the band needs us.
Both
of us.” He lowered his hand and met Jude’s gaze. “We can’t.”

Jude took a deep breath. “You’re right that the band needs

us, and that we need the band, but I’m starting to think that

what I needed all along was someone like you.”

A.J. tightened his jaw. “Someone to talk you down

when—”

“No, no. Not that. I mean . . . someone who’s . . .” He

paused, eyes unfocused as he seemed to be searching for the

words. “I just . . . I like being around you. I guess it sounds kind of stupid, but I’ve never had that with someone I’ve

dated. With Connor, it was always volatile, even when things

were good, and even when we were just friends. It was always

hot or cold—never in between. Other guys, it’s . . . There’s

never really been anything there, you know? Maybe the sex

was good, or maybe we liked the same bands. But with you . . .

With you, it’s like I just want to be with you. Even if we can’t 262

do anything because the band is around, and we have to act

like we’re barely even friends, I’m cool with that because I’m

with you.” He swallowed hard and met A.J.’s eyes. “I’ve never

had that before.”

A.J.’s chest ached, and he struggled to hold Jude’s gaze.

“I’ve never had that before either.” He kneaded his stiff

neck. “I don’t know what to do, though.”

“Well . . .” Jude cleared his throat. “If there’s ever been

something I should be running away from, it’s you, but I

can’t. I don’t want to. I just . . . everything keeps coming back to you.”

A.J. sighed. He stepped closer, but couldn’t make himself

reach for Jude. “How do we deal with the band, though?”

“They’ll decide if I stay or go.” Jude reached across the

void and touched A.J.’s cheek. “This part is up to you.”

A.J. closed his eyes and pressed against Jude’s hand. After

a moment, he whispered, “And if you stay in the band, then

you’re on bass.”

“Yeah. I am.”

“But . . . you’re a drummer, and—”

“A.J.” When A.J. opened his eyes, Jude smiled. “I’m a

musician. Plain and simple. As long as I can get up onstage

and play, I’m happy. The only thing I can’t get around or

compromise on is you.”

“I can’t . . .” Exhaling, A.J. finally closed the rest of the

distance and wrapped his arms around him. “This has been

killing me. You’ve been right here, and I couldn’t touch you.”

“I know the feeling.” Jude kissed A.J.’s forehead. “Staying

away from you just . . .” He shuddered and held A.J. tighter.

“I can’t do it.”

“Neither can I. And I don’t want to compromise on

you either.” A.J. lifted his chin. He gazed in Jude’s eyes for a 263

moment, wondering if he dared, and then to hell with it—he

drew Jude in and kissed him.

Jesus. There was no question that they’d been stupid to

get involved with each other, but there was also no question

that they were in too deep to just pretend it didn’t mean

anything. Or that this wasn’t going to end with one of them

getting deep in the other.

He had never been reckless with his career, but right then,

standing there in Jude’s arms and losing himself in Jude’s kiss, he couldn’t talk himself into being rational and reasonable.

Jude’s lips left his just enough to murmur, “I want you so

bad right now.”

“Me too.” A.J. shivered, digging his nails into Jude’s back.

“Don’t . . . don’t have any condoms, though.”

“I do.”

A.J. lifted his head and met Jude’s gaze. “You do?”

Jude nodded.

A.J. glanced past him. “How much time do you think we

have?”

“How much do you think we need?”

A.J. grinned. Then he grabbed Jude’s shirt, pulled him

closer, and just before their lips met, he said, “As much as we can fucking get.”

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hat kiss took Jude right back to the very first time, when

t they’d frantically made out for a few fleeting seconds

after a show.

Especially when A.J. pushed him back a little and panted,

“What if . . . we get caught?” Despite the worry in his tone,

he didn’t let go, and in fact tilted his head to bare more flesh to Jude.

“We already got caught.” Jude pulled him back in and let

his teeth graze the side of A.J.’s neck. “Won’t—” He hissed

as A.J.’s fingers slid beneath his shirt. “Won’t make much

difference if we get caught again.”

That was bullshit, and he knew it—getting caught

again would be a goddamned disaster—but it must’ve

convinced A.J. because he dragged Jude’s shirt up over his

head. Or like Jude, A.J. was just too turned on to care about

the consequences right then. The only consequences that

mattered at that moment were the ones that would come if

Jude got up and walked away like he was supposed to, and that

wasn’t happening. Not this time.

“Wait.” A.J. met his gaze. “Wait. We should—” He gulped.

Jude’s heart sank. He wanted A.J. so bad. So, so damn bad.

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But . . .

“We shouldn’t . . . not here.” A.J. licked his lips. “Everyone

else could come back early. They . . . they don’t need to catch us like this. We’ve put them through enough.” He grabbed

his wallet off the table and handed Jude’s shirt back. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Jude glanced at his shirt, then at A.J. “Like where?”

“There’s got to be a hotel around here somewhere.”

Jude’s hard-on—not to mention his bank account—

wanted to protest, but the longer they argued about this, the

longer he’d have to wait before he could have A.J. And

the more likely someone was to come in and bust them, so

it was now or never. “Let’s go.” He put his shirt back on, and

they hurried out of the bus.

A cab took them to a hotel in one of the slightly shadier

parts of Chicago, but he didn’t care if they were in the heart

of Compton at that point. They had condoms and lube, and

they had time, and they were about to have privacy. Nothing

else mattered.

A.J. paid the cab while Jude went in to secure a room, and

final y—
fucking finally
—they had a place to themselves off a noisy street with no one around to bust them.

Clear of the door, Jude kicked it shut, and it hadn’t even

clicked before A.J. came at him. He grabbed Jude’s belt,

dragged him closer, and kissed him. Christ, he was aggressive.

They kissed and stumbled, tugging at each other’s clothes and

feeling around for skin and for hard cocks under far too many

layers of fabric.

“Get . . . get out of these clothes.” A.J. stepped back and

took off his own shirt. “I can’t fuck you when you’re dressed.”

Holy shit. Jude couldn’t get undressed fast enough.

He didn’t care where anything landed—as far as he was

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concerned, once a piece of clothing was off his body, it ceased to exist. All that mattered was getting naked and getting into

bed with A.J.

Once they’d stripped, they didn’t even bother turning

down the bed, and tumbled onto the covers together—

kissing, groping, clawing at each other.

A.J. pushed him onto his back and climbed on top, and

Jude pulled him down into another long, breathless kiss. The

thrill of doing something dangerous and reckless was gone.

This wasn’t a stolen kiss. They hadn’t set out for a stealthy

fuck, hoping like hell they didn’t get caught, but nevertheless they were almost completely silent, just like the very first time.

Breathing, moving, touching, but not saying a word. Not even

moaning. Nothing he could say right then would’ve done the

moment justice anyway—he was too overwhelmed to form a

coherent thought, never mind speak it.

A.J. broke the kiss, and then he moved, and suddenly Jude

was sure he was dreaming because A.J. had his lips around

Jude’s dick. His hands too. And God in heaven, the man knew

what he was doing.

He didn’t try to take Jude’s whole cock, just focused his

lips and tongue on the head while his hands stroked the rest.

Featherlight fingertips teased Jude’s balls, A.J.’s tongue swirled around the head of his dick, every motion as soft as it was

deliberate—he had to grip the headboard to anchor himself

in the present. Jesus. A.J. didn’t do
anything
halfway.

“Shit, you’re gonna . . .” Jude groaned, trying to blink his

eyes into focus so he could watch him. Because, hell, was there anything hotter in this entire world than A.J. enthusiastically and expertly working this kind of magic? Creases formed

between his eyebrows, and his little moans vibrated against

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sensitive skin, driving Jude insane just like the hot huffs of

breath A.J. released now and then.

“Still can’t believe how . . .” Jude swept his tongue across

his lips. “How good you are at—”

Right then, A.J.’s eyes flicked up. Those blue eyes that had

been the subject of more fantasies than he could count lately,

the most heart-stopping, defining feature of the man he’d

almost let go, and now they were fixed on him, pupils blown

and eyelashes wet, and . . .

And Jude fell apart.

A.J. stroked and sucked and teased him all the way

through one hell of an orgasm. Spine arching off the mattress,

toes curling, eyes rol ing back—he hadn’t come like that in a

long,
long
time, and A.J. didn’t let off until Jude nudged his forehead.

“Holy . . . shit.” Jude stared up at the water-stained ceiling, his eyes still tearing up even as his vision cleared.

“I’ve missed doing that,” A.J. said as he settled beside him.

“You sound fucking hot when you come, you know—” Jude

cut him off with a kiss, and A.J. didn’t protest at al . They

pulled each other close again, making out just like before

except Jude’s head spun faster this time and there was a hint

of salt in A.J.’s mouth. Though Jude had already come, and

wasn’t hard anymore, he was still turned on as all hell.

“Fuck me right now,” he panted. “Right . . . now.”

“But you just came. You’ll be sore. I—”