Lead by Kylie Scott

  "How was it?" he asked, still standing much closer than necessary, still staring at my lips. Fear of the foreign look in his eyes held me immobile. Exactly what he was asking after, I didn't want to know. And if I didn't ask, I could pretend he meant the food last night or something equally harmless like the weather.

  "It was ... nice," I said.

  "Nice," he said, voice low and mesmerizing. "You liked it."

  I shrugged, committing in any other way felt dangerous somehow.

  "How far did you let him go?" His gaze roamed over my neck, my chest, and everywhere he looked I lit up, sweaty, disheveled, and smelly as I was. When he looked at me that way, it didn't matter. It took all of my restraint not to cross my arms over my chest. I could only hope my sweatshirt was thick and baggy enough to hide any evidence of arousal. My nipples' ongoing infatuation with the man was a terrible misguided thing.

  "W-what?" I asked.

  "Under your clothes or over?"

  "I'm not telling you that."

  "I'm thinking over," he mused. "You don't strike me as the type to give it away too soon."

  I pushed back my shoulders, stood straight. "You're right, Jimmy, I'm a pure shining virgin. My ability to keep my knees locked tight is an inspiration to all. Now can we please stop talking about this?"

  "You're uncomfortable?"

  "Oh, like that's not your goal here."

  The corner of his mouth twitched. "What can I say? You interest me, not many do."

  "That's great and I feel all warm and tingly about it. But I'm still not telling you what goes on between me and another man." I got my legs moving again, the stumbling gait of what passed for me jogging. Such style. Such grace.

  A moment later, he fell into step beside me. As always, his long legs and fitness levels made a mockery of my huffing and puffing.

  "C'mon, Lena. You can't let me live a little vicariously through you?"

  "Nope."

  "Aren't you impressed I even know the word, a high school dropout like me?" He chuckled, but he didn't sound exactly happy about it.

  "No."

  He gave me a cynical smile. "Right."

  "With everything you've accomplished in your life, you think I'd doubt your drive or intelligence?"

  "All the drugs and shit you mean? Yeah, I accomplished a fuck load of that."

  "You're a successful businessman and a seasoned, multi-award-winning, critically acclaimed musician," I countered. "Shock horror, you made some mistakes. Who the hell hasn't? You paid for them and moved on."

  His eyes narrowed. "That what you really think of me?"

  "Yes. You also have a sad tendency to be an occasional jerk but we're working on that. I have great hopes for your complete recovery."

  The rigid set of his jaw let me know he wasn't convinced. Insecurity over his education obviously ran deep.

  "It's not like I went to college," I said. "I didn't do well enough to get a scholarship. A friend's dad owned a business and he gave me a chance to try out as the receptionist, lucky for me. Otherwise, I'd probably be flipping burgers for the next fifty years."

  He nodded. "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  We ran for a while in silence. But of course, he couldn't leave it alone, could he?

  "So, tell me what constitutes a good first date, Lena? You know about this sort of shit. Teach me, how do you woo a girl, hmm?"

  "Can't talk. Jogging."

  He snorted.

  Neither of us spoke for half a block and just as well. Conversation with Jimmy was hazardous to my health. The man really did need to come with a big red warning sticker on his forehead. Actually, the sticker should cover all of his face. If you only had to deal with his hot body you might stand a chance resisting. Oh, and his voice--good god, his voice--it was created to make a girl's sex parts sing. Not that I wanted to think about sex or singing or Jimmy, nor any lustful and passionate variation of all three combined.

  My mind, however, was clearly against me.

  "You know, I think I'm improving," I said eventually. My need to fill silences was a definite weakness. "I'm not getting winded so easily."

  "Good. So you're going out with him again?"

  "Are we still talking about this?"

  "Yes. Why're you giving him a second date?"

  I groaned. "Because he was nice."

  "You're sure using that word a lot. Nice. He's nice. You had a nice time. I don't think any woman's ever used that word when it comes to me."

  I peeled wet strands of hair from my cheek. "You can be nice when it suits you."

  "I don't want to be nice, Lena." He chuckled. "But you using it to describe Dean makes me think that dating him is about as interesting as sitting through a business meeting with Adrian. Maybe you should date someone else."

  "Hey, Dean was a lot of fun to be with. For one, he doesn't pester me with inappropriate personal questions like you do."

  "You going to fuck him?"

  "Jimmy!"

  "What?" He barely hid back a smirk. "What's the problem?"

  "I am certain there was something in the employment contract about never raising the subject of sex. Also, you're being rude."

  "The employment contract?" A dimple flashed. "I think we're a bit beyond that, don't you?"

  He had a point. "Probably, yes."

  "If I cared about the employment contract I could have fired you day two."

  "You could not have."

  He gave me an amused glance.

  "Well, maybe a little. But your life would have been the poorer for it."

  "Right," he deadpanned. "What if he'd taken you to an expensive restaurant? Would you have let him feel you up then?"

  "Are you suggesting I prostitute myself for a linen table cloth and a three-course meal?"

  "Just wondering. You wouldn't be the first."

  "Holy shit, you're serious." The man made my head spin in all the ways. We really did come from different worlds. "That's so ... incredibly ..."

  "What?"

  "Sad. Just sad. Jimmy, you need to aim a little higher. Try dating people that aren't going to fall onto their backs with their legs spread based on proof of your bank balance alone."

  "It keeps life simple, easy."

  "Ea-sy. Huh. You know, easy doesn't seem to have done you much good. In fact, easy made a mess of things for you from what I can see."

  More eye rolling. If he kept that up he might just do himself damage.

  "The right sort of complication might be just what you need, Jimmy."

  "Waste of time." His voice was absolute. "If it isn't happening on the first date, why go back for more?"

  "Hmm, I think you need to figure that one out for yourself." The world blurred for a moment and I blinked the sting of sweat out of my eyes. "Do you only hang out with a woman if you want to have sex with her?"

  "Pretty much ... apart from you." He pushed back his hair. Only just did I manage to keep my lusty sigh to myself. It was really quite sad how much I enjoyed such a simple thing.

  "What about this girl who's coming to visit you?"

  "What about her?"

  "Well, is she just for sex or are you actually going to attempt to have some sort of relationship with her?"

  "I dunno," he said. "Haven't given it any thought."

  So many things I could say. None of them seemed quite right or unbiased, however.

  "So what if it's just sex?" he said.

  "Don't you want more?"

  "Got everything I need. You said I should try going out more. That's what I'm doing. If I happen to be doing that with a girl I like to fuck, what's the big deal? I got you to talk to, I don't need a relationship, whatever you're thinking that is."

  I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands. Stupid sweat, so messy and inconvenient. Of all the human secretions to experience around him, he had to inflict this one upon me.

  He just shook his head at my apparent foolishness. "So, what, you put out date three or four? There about?"


  I stopped, staring at him with absolute wonder. "Do I ask you how often you jerk off, Jimmy?"

  "Least once a day, lately." He threw the information out there like it didn't even matter. "My libido kind of disappeared there for a while but it's back with a vengeance now. You're probably right on with the dating idea because if I don't get something soon I'm gonna break my fucking wrist."

  "Stop it!" I covered my ears, taking deep, even breaths. That was the key. Any lurid pictures of Jimmy fisting himself just could stay the hell right out of my mind, my dirty, smutty, way overly descriptive mind. "We're not the kind of friends that talk about this stuff."

  "You take sex too seriously."

  I stopped trying to block him out given I couldn't if I tired. "I do, huh?"

  "Yes." And his smile, oh god his smile, I wanted to wipe it off his face with a pickaxe. I'd be gentle, you could trust me.

  "While you don't take feelings seriously at all," I said. "They're a joke to you."

  "They're not a joke to me. But the two don't have to go together. That's the mistake you make."

  "Oh, god, Jimmy, this is so cliched. You're the man whore and I'm the sensitive chick. And I'm not even particularly sensitive, for heaven's sake, it's just that compared to you ..."

  "Compared to me, what?"

  "Well, you're so repressed. You don't let yourself feel anything until you're boiling over and out of control."

  He shook his head, letting out a harsh breath. "Explain to me how the fuck me saying sex and emotions don't have to go together lead to this point. Because you're losing me."

  "Look, what you said is true enough," I said. "Sex can be just a physical activity to make you feel good. I have no problem with that."

  He scoffed. "You just condemned me for that."

  "No. I just condemned you for insisting it could be nothing more than that. I just think you should have sex with people you actually like for a change. It might be refreshing for you."

  One thick shoulder twitched, I guess it was a shrug.

  "You think I should have just slept with Dean last night then--on the first date?"

  "Not saying that." One of his tennis shoes pawed at the ground, big feral beast that he was. "I just think, talking about fucking or actually fucking shouldn't be a big deal. It's human nature, everyone does it."

  "Except for us."

  "Yeah, except for us. I had to clean the slate you know? Just strip everything back and start from scratch, get myself right," he said with a sigh. "Though giving up sex was nothing in comparison to cocaine. I felt like a god on that stuff, nothing could touch me. Stopping wasn't easy."

  "No, I bet it wasn't."

  He smiled at me, he actually double dimple smiled at me. Crap. Not only did my knees weaken but my toes curled it was so stunning, star shine and moonbeams couldn't compare. Unicorns could take a flying fuck.

  "So, Lena, darling, tell me, for curiosity's sake. When do you put out?"

  I stepped closer, going toe to toe with him. He got worried then, the dimples disappearing and his forehead creasing. So he fucking should.

  "Jimmy, my love," I said, my voice soft and sweet. "I don't fuck a guy until he has the balls to actually man up and talk to me about his feelings."

  Laughter followed me for the better part of the jog back home.

  # # #

  The doorbell rang out just after two in the afternoon. Downstairs, the band and crew were making sweet music following a lunch consisting of everything we'd had in the fridge. I'd already alerted our suppliers to the need for more, pronto. With the guys working here all the time, our usual order could easily be tripled and then some. Mal alone seemed to eat his weight in food at each meal. How he then managed to jump around and pound the drums, I had no idea. I'd spent the day making myself useful. When they were recording, it made sense to just pitch in and help where I could. If that meant I made coffee and fetched sodas then so be it. Dean had come into work with them today, a happy bonus.

  I jogged up the stairs, every part of me jiggling. Kindly note, however, I did not lose my breath, the jogging was starting to pay off. Yay me!

  Just in case there was some random paparazzi hanging around I loosened my ponytail to hide my face. The security camera screen showed one lone statuesque woman looking ten types of awkward on the other side of the door. Big black sunglasses hid her face. Hmm, interesting.

  "Hello?" I stood back, opening the door just wide enough to get a good look at her. Then my whole world stopped.

  Liv. Fucking. Anders.

  The film star.

  That's who Jimmy's old friend was and she had obviously wasted no time in getting to Portland to catch up. My heart gradually restarted, slow and painful was the way. Six feet worth of trim and tanned with white blonde hair looked back at me from atop her designer eyewear. I'd be the dumpy brunette in jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt then. Lovely, please just ignore my pale and pasty skin. She wore cute strappy sandals despite the cold wet weather and even her pedicure was immaculate. For the sake of my pride, couldn't the woman at least have a chipped nail or something? Surely, it wasn't too much to ask for.

  My own fault really, I guess that's what you got for falling for a rock 'n' roll Adonis. His ex-girlfriends or fuck buddies or whatever Liv was, were bound to be flawless. Why, the care he took with his hair was evidence enough. As if he'd stick a body bit into anything less than the best.

  "Hi," I said, in my smallest voice.

  "Lena?" With a hand she lowered her glasses. "You are Lena aren't you? Jimmy told me about you, said you'd be here."

  I blinked.

  She held out her hand. "Hi."

  My hand shook long before she started shaking it. Luckily, she seemed to write it off as my being starstruck. Let the lady think what she wanted. "Come in, please."

  "Thanks." Her smile wavered a little at my odd behavior. Screw her, I was doing the best I could under the circumstances. Visions of Jimmy and Liv together filled my mind. Him with his dark hair and her with her sunny Californian good looks, such a dramatic contrast they'd make, the camera would just eat them up.

  And I couldn't do it. I couldn't go down those stairs and see the expression on his face when he saw her. It would kill me. He smiled for me so rarely, even a flash of dimple made my day. If Liv Anders got an out-and-out grin I'd melt into a puddle of misery right there and then.

  So instead, I kind of hooked my thumb in the general direction of the basement. "They're down there. Working. They, um ... yeah. You should go down."

  "All right." Her smile turned plastic, fixed in place. Guess her acting skills weren't so great after all. "Nice to meet you."

  "Yeah."

  "I'll see you later."

  I had nothing.

  With dainty steps, she descended. I wanted to hate her, it would have made life easier, but Liv actually seemed half decent, friendly even. If only she'd been a rampaging bitch. My intense dislike would have been so much more straightforward and reasonable.

  "Hey." Dean wandered out of the kitchen. He'd turned up that morning with Taylor and been busy in the studio all day so we'd barely gotten a hello in. "I was thinking, maybe we could do something tonight?"

  "Sounds good." I gave him the best smile I had in me. Nice, normal Dean. The sight of him failed to soothe my heart however on account of it being the most clueless organ in existence. I should demand a transplant. "I'd like that."

  "Great. Been trying to get a moment alone with you all day."

  "Have you?"

  "Yeah, but it's been busy down there." He moved closer. "I like your hair up like that."

  "Thank you." Gratitude leached from my pores at his kind words, it was pathetic really. His grip slipped down my arm, fingers sliding over mine until we were holding hands. My muscles unwound, relaxed. I wasn't alone. My life wasn't over because Liv Anders had arrived, I would go on.

  This was good.

  For such a small intimacy handholding packed a punch. Sex was great, but sex wasn
't everything and when it came to Dean, I just wasn't ready yet. Handholding worked. And it led to more kissing, a little necking maybe, some touching, followed eventually by a bit of rubbing in the right places. The steps leading up to sex should be enjoyed at a leisurely pace, the foreplay of dating and getting to know someone could only be done once so it should be done right.

  And Dean was nice.

  Jimmy could think what he liked about the word. Nice was nice. It had its place in the warm and fuzzy ways of beginning to feel for someone, and I wanted to feel for Dean. Feeling for him was pleasant, painless, and plausible. Three things I'd begun to appreciate more and more. The days of me throwing my heart and soul at Jimmy Ferris's feet were done.

  A sliver of guilt existed over dating Dean when I had feelings for Jimmy. But if I didn't want those feelings, if I was willing to work at getting past them ...

  "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

  "Work junk." It wasn't entirely a lie. "I should head back down."

  "Me too," he said, giving me his lopsided grin.

  Which was how we wound up walking hand in hand down the steps toward the recording studio. Right when the guys and company were pouring out of the place.

  Jimmy's eyes latched onto our joined hands and his face hardened. It might have just been me, but I'm pretty sure the temperature in the room rocketed to lava levels.

  "If she's here, she's working, Dean," he said, his voice flat and unfriendly.

  What the hell?

  "Right." Dean dropped my hand like it had been dipped in poison. "Sorry, Jim."

  "Actually I was just on my break," I said, despite the fact I'd never actually had an official break since starting with him. He probably owed me quite a few by now.

  A muscle jumped in Jimmy's jawline. "Lena, I asked you to get the info on the interview for next week."

  "It's waiting for you in the office."

  "I'm not in the office, Lena. I'm here."

  "So I see. Just give me a moment and I'll fetch it for you."

  "If it's not too much trouble."

  "Not at all, Jimmy. Anything for you."

  His jaw hardened. "And we can do without you carrying on with your boyfriend during business hours from now on," he said.

  Carrying on? For fuck's sake. There was a lot I could say in response, but all of it came with the distinct possibility of putting Dean straight back in the firing line. "Duly noted."