Wild Chase (26 page)

“Hi,” I breathe out.

Sucking in his lips and licking them he grins, “Hi.”

“You ok?” I ask, immediately wanting to smack myself. No, this isn’t awkward at all!

He chuckles softly, a piece of hair falling into his face, “I’m great. Awesome. Amazing. I would have been incredible if I had woke up with a certain beautiful woman wrapped around me.” He leans in and brushes his lips gently against my cheek, placing a slow, heart stopping kiss on my neck before leaning up close to my ear and whispering, “Why don’t we go back to bed, Gorgeous?”

Just as my brain short circuits and I begin to nod, that damned, I mean that phone starts to ring again and Jesse’s head snaps up.

“Is that yours?” I sigh, looking around the room again.

“Yeah,” he says, looking around briefly before turning his attention back to me. He grabs my hand and tugs it, pulling me in close to his warm body. As if Vic wasn’t sitting twelve feet away, he starts to kiss my neck and shoulder again, knowing that it gets me every single time. I close my eyes and fall into his embrace, the feel of his lips against my skin the only thing on my mind. He begins to nibble at my ear, his breath warm against my neck.

“I can’t stop thinking about the way you scream my name. I need to hear it again before I can even think about getting dressed,” he whispers against my neck. I don’t have a chance to answer him before his phone starts going off again. He sighs and pulls away, leaving my body humming.

“You might want to get that, Hon. It’s been ringing off the hook for a while now,” Vic says, still sitting at the counter with her coffee, flipping through a magazine.

After a few minutes of searching, we find his phone up under the couch.

“Fifteen missed calls, seventeen new texts, and ten voice mails. What in the hell is going on?” he sighs, shaking his head. He presses a few buttons and almost as soon as he presses the phone to his ear, his face falls and his eyes shoot to the clock on the stove.

“FUCK!” he shouts throwing the phone down and frantically searching for his clothes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, grabbing his jeans and tossing them to him.

“I completely forgot that we had a couple of radio interviews today! The first one was at 9:15AM, and well, that’s just too bad, but the next one is at eleven and if I miss it, the guys are going to castrate me. Literally. There’s a voicemail from the guys stating exactly how they plan on doing it.”

I hear a whimper from Vic’s direction.

Looking around, I notice his underwear a few feet behind the other sofa. I jog over, pick them up, and toss them over. He literally chucks the sheet off right there and slips them on, quickly followed by his jeans.

Turning around with heated cheeks, I see my roommate clearly ogling and not even a tad bit ashamed.

“Here, put his on,” Jesse says, throwing his t-shirt to me. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Huh? What for?”

He smiles as he sits down to put on his socks and shoes.

“Come with me.”

I let out a laugh. Why in the world would I go to a radio interview with him?

Once he’s done, he stalks right over to me and slips a hand around my lower back, pressing me against him.

“I haven’t had enough of you yet. Please, come with me.”

Oh.

Well, when you rationalize it like that.

I nod and then frown.

“Why do I need to wear your shirt?”

His trademark sexy smirk spreads across his face, “Because I don’t want you to be able to think straight today. Every time I close my eyes, I smell you, I taste you, I hear you, I feel you. I need you to be as crazed as I am. Wearing my shirt will ensure that you are thinking about me as much as I’m thinking of you. Plus, I’m pretty sure it will remind you of that little thing I do with my tongue ring,” his voice trailing off as I gasp.

He doesn’t get much of an argument out of me. I quickly walk off to get dressed and find him a shirt to wear, knowing without a doubt that Jesse is pure, fantastic trouble.

As I walk past Vic, I hear her whisper at me. I turn back and look at her.

“Details, you lucky bitch, you! I mean it. DETAILS,” she hisses. I giggle and run off to my room.

We make it to the station with little time to spare. I don’t think that I have ever seen the guys so angry before. Every one of them scowls at their band mate as he arrives. Jesse slides right into the sound booth without missing a beat. I adamantly refuse to go in, choosing instead to stand outside the glass and watch. The DJ’s are two young people, a guy and a girl, and the girl is without a doubt a huge fan. It doesn’t take long before she starts fawning all over them. I smile as they all nervously laugh and thank her. Adam is the first person to look over and notice me. He does a double take and after obviously checking out my rack, he looks over his shoulder at Jesse and then elbows him in the waist. Jesse looks down and then Adam motions at me. They both share a smile and Adam fist bumps him.

Seriously?

I roll my eyes and listen to the interview as it continues. I, of course, find myself gazing at the side profile of Avery before too long, and my insides clench. This awful feeling rolls over my body like a tidal wave sent to kill me. Pure guilt. I shut my eyes and clench my teeth.
He has a girlfriend and gave me his blessing.
I have nothing to feel guilty about! Still, as I watch the corners of his mouth turn up into his heart stopping smile, my body reacts on its own. The unmistaken feeling of fluttering deep in the pits of my stomach. I rub my forehead and tilt my head down, taking in a deep breath of Jesse’s shirt. The smell of his body wash and cologne instantly cause bursts of memories to replay in my head, deterring my thoughts for a moment. That is, until I hear Avery pipe up in the interview.

“We find inspiration from all over and I believe that it helps with our own sound tremendously. I think between the four of us that we are fans of every single genre of music. Kennedy is our resident classical expert. Adam here knows all things rock— past and present. And Between Jesse and I, I think we like just about everything in between,” he says with a smile.

The girl blushes and flips through her papers, “Awesome! Well, as you know our station is well known for playing pop and top 40. Jesse, what is your favorite pop song at the moment?”

He bites at his lip and glances at me before turning back to the DJs.

“Honestly, it changes daily. Today I have a Bruno Mar’s song stuck in my head. ‘Locked Out of Heaven’,” he says sweetly, throwing another sexy smirk my way. This time his head turning catches someone’s eye.

Avery.

His eyebrows scrunch up as if he’s trying to solve a riddle. I give him a weird, unsure smile and a half-hearted wave.

“That is a killer tune. Do you think you could do a little cover of it for us?” the male DJ asks him.

“Definitely! If you guys think you’re ready for the Vengeful Honor version.” Jesse playfully teases. They laugh and nod, but my stomach plummets.

Oh no. Uh-uh. Bad idea.

The lyrics float through my head and I know this is the equivalent of him announcing that we had sex last night.

DON’T DO IT!
I try to scream out telepathically. Seconds later, Jesse starts belting out a more rocked out style of the second verse and I watch as the confused look on Avery’s face fades. It’s replaced by something angry and dark that I have never seen there before.

His eyes find Jesse and narrow.

The pit of my stomach clenches. He’s not stupid. I know that he can clearly see me standing here in the shirt Jesse was wearing all day yesterday and put it together from that alone. Ugh, I don’t know why I even care that he knows! He cuts his eyes from Jesse and looks at me, and the look in his eyes is downright cruel. His stormy gray eyes have never looked at me like that and I push off the glass almost instantly, unable to handle it.

I sit down on a bench outside of the studio where I can’t be seen and just wait.

Throwing my head back against the wall, I wonder how much better this day can get.

“DADDY! I thought you said you agreed with me! You were supposed to be taking care of this and instead I’m hearing that the album is getting back on track!” Olivia shrieks as she walks into her father’s office and slams the door shut.

“Good morning to you too, darling,” Mr. Birsch says coldly from his desk, his head bent over a stack of papers five inches thick.

Olivia rolls her eyes as she throws her handbag onto the leather sofa and walks over to his large desk, huffing.

“Come on, Daddy, you know that it’s going to be the best move in the long run. Vengeful Honor won’t last. I’ve filled you in all along on how the band runs; it’s only a matter of time before their talent runs out and you’re shelling out money for a bunch of nobodies. Avery is the only one with the talent. He can out sing, out play, and just out whatever the rest of them in his sleep. The deal was to offer him a buyout, to give him the album if he let the rest of them go. How could you give them the go ahead on that track? This was not the plan!” she cries out, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

Sighing heavily, her father pinches the bridge of his nose and sits back in his heavy leather desk chair.

“Olivia, we’ve been through this before. It’s business— my business. I can’t play games with my job because you have a vendetta. Now, I’ve amused this little facade long enough. The revisions coming back to us now are too good to ignore. I’m sorry, but I really don’t have time to for this plan of yours anymore. I would be fired if they found out that I was toying with a multimillion dollar paycheck for the label.”

Folding her arms over her chest, she begins to bite the inside of her cheeks as her blood starts to boil.

“No one talks to me the way he did and gets away with it, Daddy. I would think my own father would agree with that! You are supposed to stand up for me—your little girl—defend my honor, or whatever the hell it is!” she seethes, her voice venomous.

“Of course, but you have to look at the bigger picture. It isn’t just about you, Olivia. It’s business. With the new producer of theirs, we not only get better sounding music for a new album, but we have a potential new artist. I can’t push against something like that without the rest of the label realizing that something is going on.”

She stares at her father with big pouty eyes, hoping he would cave like he had her whole life, but he sat there, unmoving.

“But Daddy,” she begins, trying her best to sound like a child in one last attempt to pull him back to her side.

“Dammit, Olivia! I’ve done enough for you! The answer is no! Get over whatever it is that happened and move on. I don’t have time for this childishness from you anymore. You know where the door is,” Mr. Birsch barks, slamming a fist down onto his mahogany desk.

Practically growling, Olivia tears off for her purse. She throws open the door so hard that it rattles the walls and storms out.

She pulls out her phone and dials Avery as she hails a cab. She climbs in and directs the driver to her boyfriend’s hotel.

Voicemail. Same thing she’s been getting every single time she calls him. Frustrated, she throws her phone against the seat and tries to calm herself. She isn’t going to let her dad stop her from getting back at the guy that embarrassed her two years ago. No way in hell. She plans to make him feel as rejected as he made her feel at that party. She just has to figure out a new plan. And quick, because her boy toy is starting to act extremely distant…