Diving Into Him (12 page)

Gritting her teeth, she narrowed her eyes at him. Disbelief coursed through her. Her hands clenched, wrinkling the set list. She wavered between shock and fury. Her fingers unfurled. The set list fell to the floor and skidded across the tile.

“All right,” Griff said. “Do we need to spark up to get everyone to play nice today?”

“I never need an excuse to smoke,” Perry purred. He lounged on the floor, running his fingers over his dreads. “Do you want to?”

“No,” Jett spat, wheeling on him. “I
want
to get to work. I
want
all of you to be serious about this. Instead, all you can worry about is the next party or who’s screwing who.” She glared at each of them in turn.

Max held his hands up, his eyes wide. “I just wanted to know when we were getting paid,” he mumbled. “I have a family.”

Jett sucked in a deep breath. She bowed her head, closing her eyes. Max was right. She shouldn’t be taking her frustrations out on everyone. Even Perry wasn’t exactly her problem—though he definitely had a knack for pushing her buttons. She lifted her chin. “We need to start recording today. If anyone has a problem with that, you know where the door is.” She swallowed hard. Part of her expected Koty to walk out. At some point, she was going to need to fix things with him. Without being able how to return his affection, though, she didn’t know where to start.

The men shuffled around, then began tinkering with their instruments. Even Koty slung his guitar over his shoulders, fingers twisting the knobs, tuning the strings.

Tyler crossed the room and leaned toward her. “I’m gonna head out, let you do your thing.”

Her heart sank. “I’m sorry,” she said.

He grinned, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “Artists.” He lifted his shoulders, then winked. “Call me when you’re done.”

She felt Koty’s eyes burning into her. “It might be late.” Heat blasted her face.

Tyler planted a light kiss on her cheek. “It’s never too late.” Turning, he sauntered out of the studio. He closed the door behind him. Then, she was alone with her band.

Swallowing hard, she bent to retrieve the set list. Her eyes scanned the songs. “Let’s start with ‘Sex on the T,’” she said. It was more than apt. She forced herself into work mode, directing Max to the mixing board and Perry into the sound booth to lay down his bass line. She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t keeping Griff with her on purpose so that she wouldn’t be alone with Koty, but deep down she knew that it was a lie. She wasn’t afraid that he would hurt her, but she was terrified of the emotions rolling off of him.

For as long as she had known him, he had been calm and unshakable—even when she told him he didn’t have a shot with Perpetual Smile and especially when they first broke up.

Eventually, she was going to have to face him and talk to him—work through things. For the time being, though, she needed to focus on work. If she thought about the pure pain and frustration radiating off of Koty, she might break. Blinking back tears, she sat down next to Max and slipped on a pair of headphones. Nodding at Perry and giving him a thumbs up, she turned her back on Koty.

Twisting, legs caught by soft flannel sheets, Jett opened her eyes. For a moment, she stared at the room around her, eyes taking in the living room and kitchen that guarded the bed. She blinked at the worn furniture, the old coffee pot burbling on the counter. Closing her eyes, she let the warmth of sleep pull her in again, burrowing into the darkness. A warm hand gripped her waist. The scent of brewing coffee mingled with the spicy, warm ginger scent blanketing her. She opened her eyes and smiled at Tyler. He grinned back. She buried her face in his pillow, inhaling his scent. It was totally different from the way Koty smelled, a cool sort of mesquite. It wrapped around her, clinging to her in the form of his T-shirt and the flannel sheets on the bed. She inhaled again.

“Morning,” Tyler whispered. His thumb stroked her ribs.

She rolled onto her back, arms cradling her head. “Hey.” The fabric of his T-shirt caressed her skin. His hand slid across her belly.

He lay sprawled across the bed on his side. He wore a fresh T-shirt and a pair of jeans that she didn’t recognize. His hair glistened in the dim light. The scent of soap clung to his skin.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Taking off on me?”

Tyler shook his head. “I’m chained to the keyboard again.” He nodded toward the laptop on the desk that occupied a corner of his studio apartment. “Don’t you have practice today, though?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. She closed her eyes, draping an arm across her face. The edges of sleep had drifted away, though, barring her from that particular escape.

“Not that I don’t like having you here, but it’s been two days since you’ve been home,” Tyler said.

Jett peered at him from between her lashes. “So?”

“So, won’t your roommate be worried?” He delivered the line with such confidence that she almost wanted to applaud him.

“My roommate.” She tipped her chin back and stretched her arms up over her head, letting the yawn work through her body. Her feet arched, toes pointing toward the floor. Muscles uncoiled. She made her legs longer and longer, the length of her body spreading. The yawn ended and she sprang back into shape. Turning her head, she regarded Tyler. He gazed back at her with steady grey blue eyes. “What I do is none of his business,” she said.

Tyler pressed full lips together. His eyes flicked to the side.

“What?” She sat up on her elbows. Stretching a hand out, she ran her fingers through the thick mat of wild spikes arching toward his face.

“I think you need to talk to him.” He caught her hand in his. Warm fingers twined with hers.

She rolled onto her side, nuzzling closer to him. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Tyler dropped her hand. “That’s weird,” he said.

“What’s weird?” She chewed on the inside of her lip.

He sighed. “I can’t pretend to know you that well, but every time he comes up or he’s around, you close off on me.” He sat up, his feet dangling over the floor.

She stiffened. Her eyes flattened. “That’s because I’d rather talk about more pleasant subjects.”

“Jett,” he said. He scrubbed at the stubble on his face with his hands. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I thought you and I had something here.”

Swallowing hard, she pushed herself into a sitting position. “We do. I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

“I don’t want to be
that
guy,” he said, “but I don’t think we can go any further like this.”

She froze. Her eyes wavered back and forth, combing his face for any hint of a joke. “Are you breaking up with me?” She wondered if they were even a couple.

Tyler sighed. “That would require us being together in the first place.” He stood. “I really like you, but I’m looking for a fresh start.”

“So am I.” She slid out of bed. His T-shirt caressed her thighs. “I like you, too.” Running a hand through her hair, she struggled to get her thoughts together. They crashed into each other, swirling through her head. Koty wasn’t even around, yet he was still muddying up her life. She took a deep breath, pushing thoughts of him away. She would never be able to move on and start over if she kept letting her feelings for him interfere with her life—whatever those feelings were. “I’m not trying to dupe you or anything,” she said to Tyler. Her eyes scanned the room behind him, though, picking out her belongings. If she needed to, she could get dressed and leave in a matter of seconds.

“I don’t think you are.” He skirted the bed, walking toward her. “I think you need to take care of some things first, though.”

She gritted her teeth. There was nothing to take care of. She and Koty weren’t together. “Can we just enjoy the day?” She twisted the ring on her thumb.

Tyler shook his head, his lips flat. “I really need to get some work done.”

Her lips parted. Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them away. Nodding, she eased past him. “Okay,” she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. She collected her neatly folded pile of clothing from the couch. Padding toward the bathroom, she forced herself to keep her head high. She closed the bathroom door behind her. Stripping off his shirt, she dressed quickly, avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

Moments later, she left the bathroom and grabbed her jacket. She headed toward the door.

“Just talk to him,” Tyler said.

Gripping the knob, she twisted it and pulled the door open. Without another word, she slipped out of his apartment.

As she walked toward the closest T station, she forced herself to keep her chin up. Her boots clicked on the sidewalk, punctuating each tear that rolled down her cheeks. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand. Sucking in a ragged breath, she slowed as she passed a bar. The door stood open, beckoning her inside. She swallowed hard. No matter what she did, she was never going to be able to start over.

The bus rumbled past, brakes squealing as it halted several feet away from her. Dragging her eyes away from the bar, she hurried to catch up.

By the time she got to the condo, her stomach rumbled in hunger and her hands shook. Fumbling for the keys in her pocket, she unlocked the door and eased inside.

Koty sat on the leather couch, an empty cereal bowl balanced on his knee. He turned his head, glancing over his shoulder at her. His eyes moved from her face to her rumpled hair and clothing. A frown creased his forehead. “Are you okay?” He put the bowl on the coffee table and twisted around on the couch.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been away for two days. You didn’t show up at the studio. It means ‘Are you okay?’” His blue eyes blazed.

“No, I haven’t been out drinking,” she snapped. She yanked her jacket off and hung it up.

His jaw tightened. “That’s not what I asked.”

“That’s what you meant.” She crossed the living room and moved into the kitchen. A box of cereal sat open on the counter. She grabbed it and plunged a hand inside. Tossing a couple bites of the crunchy flakes into her mouth, she chewed, glaring at Koty.

He crossed his arms. “So you guys are a thing now?”

She slammed the box of cereal down. “That’s none of your business.”

Standing from the couch, he lifted his chin. “I just assumed, since you’ve been at his place the last couple of nights.” He shook his head. “What makes him so different?”

Jett sagged against the counter. She gripped the lip of it, steadying herself. “I don’t want to talk about Tyler.”

“Why?” Koty grabbed his bowl from the coffee table. He strode into the kitchen, never taking his eyes off of her. “Why is it that you and I have been living together for months and you can’t give me the time of day, yet you sleep with him a couple of times and all of a sudden you’re hot and heavy?”

Her jaw dropped open. She clenched her hands into fists. “That’s a wild assumption.”

He plunked his bowl on the counter. Only a few feet separated them. “What else am I supposed to think?”

Straightening, she looked him in the eyes. “I haven’t slept with him, not that it’s any of your business.”

He towered over her, heat blazing in his eyes. “Then what makes him so different?”

She opened her mouth. The doorbell rang, cutting through the tension in the kitchen. Turning toward the door, she frowned. Slipping past Koty, she stomped out of the kitchen and padded across the living room. She peered through the peep hole. Griff stood on the other side, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Her frown deepened. She opened the door, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Both of Griff’s eyebrows lifted. “She lives.” He gave her a nod. “Can I come in?”

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” Koty said at the same time. He stood just behind her. Heat radiated from his body. Warmth pooled low in her belly.

She glared over her shoulder at him. “You just run everything in my life, don’t you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, eyes searing into her.

Griff cleared his throat. “This will only take a minute. Then you guys can get back to whatever you were arguing about.”

She shot him a glare. “Have you ever heard of calling before dropping by?”

“Have you ever heard of letting your band know that you weren’t going to be at practice two days in a row?” Griff tilted his head.

Scowling, she moved aside. She dropped down on the couch, sinking into the leather. Crossing her legs, she regarded Griff with cool eyes. “What do you want?”

“Are we recording today?” He perched on the arm of the couch.

“Probably not,” Koty said. Bitterness laced his voice.

Jett sucked in a deep breath. “Keep putting words in my mouth,” she said.

Griff cleared his throat again. “Okay,” he said slowly. He shifted, leather creaking beneath him. “Listen, I talked to David at Malden Street Studios this morning. Based on your deposit, we only have a few hours left there. We’re going to have to book more time or find another place.”

Jett snorted. “He still owes us some of that back.” She crossed her arms.

Griff nodded. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a rumpled white envelope. He handed it to Jett.

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “What is this?” She took the envelope from him, studying it. A crease ran down the middle. No words marked the outside, and it wasn’t sealed.

“Your cut of Perpetual Smile’s severance pay,” Griff said.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “How?” She opened the envelope and counted the cash inside. Relief swept through her. Even if she lost Koty, she could still pay the rest of her band members for the show they had played. The thought of losing him sent a pang twisting through her heart. Still, it might be for the best. They couldn’t stand being in the same room together. The rest of her band mates were bound to notice at some point. Maybe, she surmised, the only way for her to move on was to sever ties with him completely.

“Are you listening?” Griff asked.

She blinked. “Sorry,” she said. “What were you saying?”

“Simon 1056 still owed us some royalties from album sales, plus a percentage of the proceeds from the tour.” Griff gave her a wry smile. “I got the check the other day, but you weren’t around.”

She gritted her teeth. “Is that all?” All she wanted to do was grab a bowl of cereal and retreat to her bedroom. She stood from the couch.

Griff’s shoulders rose and fell as he blew a stream of air through his nose. “So I guess we’re not recording today.”

“Oh, we are,” Koty said. “I’m paying for this time.”

Jett opened her mouth. Rage spilled over her fatigue. She narrowed her eyes. Her fingers curled into fists.

“Good.” Griff gave Jett a pointed look. “I’ll call the guys.” He strode toward the door. “I’ll be in the car,” he called over his shoulder. He pulled the door open and sauntered out, whistling.

Closing her eyes, Jett took a deep breath in through her nose and sank back into her seat. Apparently South of Forever was no longer her band. Tyler wasn’t hers anymore, either. Tears burned at her eyes, bleeding through the cracks. Her mascara from the night before sizzled. She wished she had taken the time to wash her face before falling asleep. She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“Look,” Koty said. His voice echoed off the stainless steel and leather. Even the furniture wasn’t hers. She opened her eyes, blinking through the pain and tears. “I don’t want it to be like this.” He sighed and sat on the arm of the couch. Scrubbing at the light beard on his face, he bowed his head. His next words came through his hands. “I just really thought you and I had something.” His shoulders rose and fell.

She looked down at her chipped fingernails. Guilt splintered through her. Perhaps, she surmised, she had known that all along. She had just been too impervious and proud to see that she had been hurting him. She took another deep breath. Raising her head, she reached toward him and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes lifted to meet hers, ocean blue burning with agony. “It’s my fault,” he whispered, voice gravelly with anguish. “I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. He leaned toward her, their fingers still entwined. His warm breath tickled her face. Her body froze, heat pooling in her belly. Her skin blazed as his lips brushed hers. His free hand caressed her face. His forehead met hers. Eyes closing, he pulled her close to him. Tears dribbled down his cheeks. Her mascara singed her eyes, his pain clawing at her heart. She gripped his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said again and again. Sobs wracked from her throat. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulders. Breathing in his scent, she tried to commit it to memory. Whatever they had was over. She knew it like she knew all of the words to her favorite songs. She would never again know him the way she had. Part of her wanted to cling to their history, to tell him that he was wrong. Those words would be a lie, though, and she needed to stop hurting him.

Taking a breath to steady herself, she pulled away. Blinking away the tears, she tried to give him a smile. Her lips quivered.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He gave her hand one last squeeze, then let go. “It’s okay.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Running a hand through his hair, he looked away. “So,” he said.