Jesse's Girl
Page 60

I look down at my lap, my leg shaking like a jackhammer. Nervous and excited about doing something like this. Mostly upset that he’s still planning to retire.
“I’d love to record with you, but why me?”
“I like you.”
I think back to Jesse’s face when he met that little girl at the fair, the one who said she wants to play piano because of him but can’t because she can’t afford lessons. Doesn’t he know that he could help change lives? “But you don’t want to help other people, do you?”
“I would if other people were more like you. So are you in?” He hands me the sheet music, and I bring it to my nose, smelling ink and crisp paper.
Of course I am!
“Why not?” I say nonchalantly.
Jesse sits on my bed with me. “So Holly told me you never returned her call about arranging voice lessons?”
I fidget and flex my fingers nervously. “I didn’t…I can’t afford them, Jess.”
“It’s on me, okay?”
“Are you sure?” He nods once. “Thank you,” I say, and he returns my smile.
“We can record in January or so. After my tour’s over.”
“Where all are you going again?”
“All over the place. Dallas, Denver, Vegas, Kansas City, Seattle, Detroit, Cincinnati, Philly, Birmingham, Chicago, Orlando, New York. Then I’m heading over to London, Paris, and Berlin.”
“That’s amazing!” Casper jumps onto the bed and snuggles between us.
“I’m really excited about the Vegas show. I bought plane tickets for my parents to come out there. It’s close to the Grand Canyon, and they’ve always wanted to go, so I figured we could make a day trip out of it. Ride horses and stuff. And we can have Thanksgiving together too.” He grins to himself as he scratches Casper’s ears.
“I’m happy for you. So you’re still retiring?”
“Yes.”
“I wish you’d reconsider. You have such a gift.”
He lifts the Burger King crown off my head, sets it on my nightstand, and brushes my hair behind my ears. “I need to fix things with my family first.”
“Anybody who puts how they appear to their friends and coworkers before the happiness of their kid doesn’t have their priorities straight.”
“I know we have a lot to work out,” he says. “But I want to try.”
He slips his cowboy boots off and pulls me back on the bed with him. I inhale sharply as I rest my head on his shoulder. Other than that time at the Underground, I haven’t curled up with him before. I watch his eyelashes flutter and run my fingers over the stubble on his cheek.
He picks up my iPhone and earbuds, taking the right one and handing me the left. He flicks through my playlists, grimacing at all the Queen and Madonna, then settles on some old-school John Mellencamp. He folds an arm behind his head, and we listen to music with our eyes closed.
The longer we lie here, the more my body wants him. My skin is burning up, desperate for his touch.
When he gently caresses my jaw, I grab on to him and hold on tight. He studies my eyes for a few seconds, then stands to shut my bedroom door.
“This okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Dad’s at the garage and Mom’s at work.”
I hope neither will catch me with Jesse. He rejoins me on my bed, straddling my hips, wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. Not taking his eyes off mine, he slips the earbud back into his ear, so we can keep listening to music. As soon as his lips touch mine, I know the risk of getting caught is worth it. He inhales sharply when my tongue sweeps inside his mouth.
A kiss that starts out slow becomes a rhythm: hard then soft then wild. His mouth moves lower, trailing heat and shivers down my neck. He pushes the hem of my top up to my ribs. Presses his lips to my stomach. I gasp and gasp again when one of his hands cups my breast. My hips buck involuntarily.
He lifts his head. “You all right?”
I’m panting so hard it takes several seconds to get my breathing under control. I rip my earbud out. “Jess…what are we doing here?”
“What’s wrong?”
I swallow, and he brushes my hair out of my face, staring into my eyes. He slowly removes his earbud.
“Remember how you got upset on shadow day and left?” I ask. “And then at the movies, you didn’t want to hold hands or kiss or anything?”
“I remember,” he says quietly. “I also remember how, on our last date, you stopped kissing me.”