True for You (21 page)

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Authors: Marquita Valentine

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: True for You
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“When
does June’s band perform?”

“No
idea.” He shrugs, taking a pull of his beer. “Right now,
I’m just going to enjoy being incognito with my sexy date.”

The
waitress brings my water. She turns to Jackson and hands him a
handful of pieces of paper. “From the women at the end of the
bar. They’re your biggest fans.”

He
dumps the papers on the table. “Please send them a round of
drinks and tell them that they’re from
my
wife
and me.”

The
waitress twists her lips, and then nods. “Good call.”

“When
does Downward Spiral play?” he asks.

“They’re
up next.” She plunges into the crowd.

A
familiar blonde slams into our table. “There you are. Thank
God.”

“Where’s
the fire?” Jackson set his beer down and grins. “June, I
want to introduce you to my wife.”

“Nice
to meet you,” she says without looking at me. For all intents
and purposes, I don’t exist. She wedges herself between my
chair and Jackson’s. “Our lead guitarist came down with
the flu or something. Can you play?”

“With
the band?”

Jackson
looks so excited, like a little boy finally getting told yes after
years of no. Which sounds stupid if I really think about it.

He turns to me.
“Would you mind?

And
I’m thinking it’s time to let him go. “Have fun.”

“Great.”
June grabs Jackson’s arm, and they head backstage. I sit there,
sipping my water and becoming more invisible by the second. It
doesn’t matter if any other guy looks at me, or thinks I’m
attractive, because they’re not Jackson.

“Is
this seat taken?”

“Yes—Cameron!”
I jump off the chair to give him a hug. “Sit down.”

Letting
go of me, he takes a step back and smiles, his familiar brown eyes
kind. “Where’s your old man?”

“Aren’t
you older than he is?”

“Only
in years.” He props a foot on Jackson’s chair.

I
snort at his answer, and then my smile fades as I manage to sit
without flashing anyone. “The band that’s playing tonight
is a guitar player short, so June asked him to fill in.”

Cameron’s
dark brows crash together. “Who’s June?”

The
one he supposed to be with. “She’s the lead singer, I
think, and his new singing partner.”

“That’s
right.” Cameron holds up one finger, and the waitress brings
him a beer. “We talked earlier today. Never thought I’d
see the day come when he’d actually be out from under Everett’s
thumb.”

“I’m
happy for him.” But I’m sad for me. My one reckless act
has wrecked my heart and my life. “What are you doing here?”

“Classes
are delayed because of the storm.” His brown eyes search my
face. “Thought I’d come up here and hang out with Jackson
for a change and get to know you, too.”

Warning
bells go off in my head, but I’m not sure what they’re
trying to tell me. Cameron has been nothing but nice.

The
lights grow dim, and my attention snaps to the stage.

The band comes out
on stage, a spotlight focused on them. Jackson stands off to the
side, his jeans low on his hips and his t-shirt tight across his arms
and chest. It’s not the one he wore here.

June
has on a matching one, her breasts bouncing with every step she
takes, and she doesn’t have small boobs. Not at all.

There’s
a pang in my chest. That’s not the shirt she wore out here
either. It’s not even the same outfit.

She
blows him a kiss. He winks at her in return. My heart pinches.

I
can’t breathe. Placing a hand on my chest, I rub at my heart
with the heel of my hand.

All
sorts of images run through my head. Jackson helping her get
undressed, June running her hands down his tight abs. Him kissing
her, like he does me right before he—

“Don’t
do that to yourself,” Cameron says, leaning down so I can hear
him over the music. “At least give him a chance to explain.”

“So
you see it, too?”

“She
looks like Violet, but she doesn’t act like her.” June
throws her head back and lets out a growl. The crowd goes wild. “And
for damn sure she doesn’t sing like her.”

Jackson’s
fingers caress the strings of an electric guitar, the look on his
face taking my breath away. I’m happy for him and sad for me.
This is where he belongs. She’s who he belongs with, not me.

“They’re
really good together.” My vision blurs as I bow my head. A tear
drips on my glasses. I can’t be crying. It has to be my body
breaking into pieces, and this is the aftermath. “It’s
like they were meant to be.”

“When
I get a hold of Jackson. I swear I’ll—”

Getting
myself together, I hold up my head. “Do what? Fuss at him for
being who he is?”

June
saunters to Jackson, leaning against him and running her hands over
his body. They sneak up his shirt to touch him there as well, but he
backs up, a sexy smile on his face.


You
play so hard to get. But that’s all this is. A game
,”
June sings, like they’re the only ones on stage. “
You
know you want me. I want you. Come play with me
.”

Cameron
moves closer to me, cursing Jackson under his breath. Unable to watch
anymore, I bury my face into Cameron’s chest. I don’t
know who else to turn to. I have no friends here, no family anywhere…
nothing but what Jackson has given me.

But
I don’t cry anymore. I’m resigned to my fate.

Cameron
hugs me, one-armed and brotherly. He doesn’t try to touch me
anywhere inappropriately. “I’m sorry, Bliss. So damned
sorry.”

“It’s
not your fault.” I take a deep breath. “It’s not
anyone’s fault.”

The
music stops, but I don’t bother looking up. All I want to do is
go home, but I don’t even have one, not here. A shudder racks
my body.

Cameron’s
voice is in my ear, his mouth in my hair. “I have a hotel room.
You can stay there, and I’ll go crash at Jackson’s.”

Suddenly,
Cameron is wrenched away from me, and I almost fall out of my chair.
He and Jackson face each other, breathing heavily.

“I
told you to stay away from her.”

“And
I told you not to screw things up again.”

Jackson
shoves Cameron, making him stumble a little. “Take your
self-righteous ass and leave.”

Cameron
turns to me, pulling a room key out of his pocket. “Take it,
Bliss, and leave him.”

“Don’t
touch it, Bliss,” Jackson growls.

“You
don’t have to do what he says.” Cameron eyes go soft as
he puts the key to his room away. “Come with me, and I’ll
take care of you, like you need to be taken care of. You won’t
have to worry about me with other women, or any of the other bullshit
he pulls.”

Shocked,
I sit there, unable to comprehend. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s
not to understand, baby doll? Cameron wants you for himself.”

“But
I don’t want him,” I blurt, before I fully comprehend the
implication it will have on Jackson.

“She’s
made her decision. Go home, Cam, and while you’re there, make
some new friends.” Jackson smirks, taking my hand. I allow him
to lead me to backstage.

“I
don’t want you either,” I snap, once we’re away
from the crowd.

His
smirk falls, and he pulls me into an empty dressing room. He kicks
the door shut behind him, and I look around. The walls are made of
brick, and there’s a sofa on the opposite side of us. It looks
really well-used.

I
back away, not wanting any part of a sofa with Jackson, especially
not that one. When I hit the wall, the rough brick bites at my skin.

“Why
not?” he asks.

“Because
I don’t know what you did backstage, before you sang, but I saw
what you did on stage, and how you looked up there, with that on.”

“This
shirt is upsetting you?”

I
nod. “You didn’t have it on before.”

“It’s
what the entire band wore, but if you don’t like it…”
He rips it over his head. “No one dressed or undressed me,
Bliss.”

I
can’t stop staring at him, at his tight abs, the multiple
tattoos, or the way his jeans hang on his hips. “But the two
of you singing—”

He
cages me within his arms, one hand planted on the wall behind me. “It
was an act. Nothing more. Every time I’ve performed with June
it’s been an act. I’ve had to perform when I was sick,
exhausted, sad, and heartbroken. None of that mattered, because the
music came first. Didn’t you see they way Violet and I
performed together while we were on tour?”

“Thanks
for the reminder,” I say, my misery doubling. Where was I
ranked on his list of things that mattered—third, fourth, or
only when he remembered he had a wife?

“Old
me wanted her, but Violet wanted
nothing
to do with me. Could you tell that from our act? Could you tell that
she despised me at one point?”

I
shake my head.

“I
know you don’t get it, but I’ve been doing this for so
long that it’s second nature. When I sing with a girl on stage,
the crowd has to believe she’s the one I’m all into. If
not, then they don’t come back for more.”

“Then
I don’t want them to come back for more,” I snap.

His
gaze drops to my lips. “I want you to keep coming back for
more.” He picks me up, and I wrap my arms around his neck and
my legs around his waist, my skirt riding up past my thighs. Big
hands slide to my butt, cupping my cheeks. “When we make love,
I want to hear you say more, more, more.”

He
rocks against me, getting me wet, making my nipples hard. He trails
slow kisses down my neck and over the tops of my breasts. Desire,
love, lust, and heartbreak envelop me, but before they can drown me,
I break free and ask, “You know what I want to hear you say?”

“What’s
that?” He manages to push my shirt up and the cup of my bra
down. My breast pops out, and he captures the nipple in his mouth.
“Better than candy.”

Bracing
me against the wall, he unzips his jeans and shoves my panties to one
side. In one smooth thrust, he’s in me, and I jolt at his
sensual invasion.

“Say
it, baby doll.” He strokes me, hard and unrelenting, bringing
me closer and closer to the edge. I don’t want to fall, because
if I do, I won’t get up. “Tell me, beautiful girl. Tell
me what you need for me to say. I’d say anything for you.
Anything
.”

I
whimper, fastening my mouth to his. I’m greedy for him. Our
kisses become frantic, his thrusts more intense, and my head falls
back.

He
licks my throat, and then slips his hand between us, firmly working
at my clit. “Say it.”

“I
love you.” The words burst free from inside of me, at the
height of my orgasm. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“Bliss,
damn it…
Bliss
.”
He groans my name, joining me.

But
he doesn’t say those three big words back to me. In fact, he
doesn’t say anything at all. He simply kisses my lips, my nose,
and my forehead, then holds me for the longest time, until he pulls
away to help me get cleaned up.

June
throws open the door right as we’re done. “Next set,
lover boy.”

“Let
me find my shirt.”

“You
don’t need it.” She flicks her gaze down his lean form as
he searches for it,
and I want to claw her eyeballs out.

“I
have to go,” he says to me while
putting the Downward Spiral t-shirt back on.
“We’ll talk later.”

Always
later. “I think I’ll call a cab and go home.” The
music comes first, everything comes first. But me? I’ve never
been first for anyone.

“No.
I’ll text my driver, and he’ll come get you.” He
pulls out his phone, runs his thumbs over it, and slides it back into
place. “Meet him out front in ten, okay?”

I
take another look at June, but she’s staring at the drummer,
who’s waiting right outside the door. He grabs her butt and
shoves his tongue down her throat.

“Move
it, Morgan,” she shouts, pushing the drummer away.

“Bossy
thing, aren’t you?” he asks, and my heart sinks into the
floor. It might be an act, but they’re not on stage, and I’m
pretty sure June doesn’t believe in boundaries or rules.

Her
hand slips into his back pocket and he grabs her wrists, removing it,
but for me, it’s too late. There’s no way for me to know
if he moved her hand because he knew I was standing there, or if he
really didn’t want her touching him.

“Bye,
Jackson,” I say, staring at his retreating form.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jackson

I’ve
never felt so damn conflicted in my life. How in the hell did I just
have the hottest sex ever against the wall of a random dressing room,
and the only thing I can think about is what Bliss said when she came
in my arms and my response.

I
love you. I love you. I love you.
They’re in my head, playing on repeat.
I
love you. I love you. I love you.

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