Jace, page 13
He nodded, shrugging into the shirt and snapping it up.
“Actually.” Emmy’s brows rose. “It looks good on.”
But he was watching Krystal, waiting for her response.
Her lips pressed tightly closed and her eyes narrowed. “Yeah. But…” She glanced at his face before she stepped forward and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “You want to show these off.” She nodded at his tattoos. “Your fans will want to see them.”
He stared down at her, the top of her golden head bent as she tugged his sleeves and made them even. His throat clogged with all the words he wanted to say. Words. And a melody. Soft and slow and sweet, playing through his head.
She looked up at him, eyes wide and breath unsteady.
“Good?” He could reach out and touch her. He sure as hell wanted to.
She nodded.
“It works.” Emmy agreed.
“No more pearl snaps.” Krystal tapped the pearl in the middle of his chest, her hand remaining. “All black.”
He nodded, resisting the urge to take her hand. He was vaguely aware of Emmy, practically sprinting to his dressing room with a “I’ll go tell Calvin” called back over her shoulder.
His dressing room door slammed shut and they were alone.
Her hand fell from his chest.
“You’ve been hiding from me.” It wasn’t a question. Or an accusation. Just a fact.
She swallowed but didn’t say a word.
“Why?” He pushed, needing to know.
She stared at the top pearl snap on his shirt. “I never pegged you as someone with such a high opinion of himself, Mr. Black. Why on earth would I be hiding from you?” But her bite was halfhearted and she couldn’t meet his gaze.
He tipped her chin back, waiting for her to look at him. “That’s what I’m asking.”
But staring into her green eyes made things go hazy around the edges. She did that to him, put the rest of the world on mute so she was all that registered. The heat in her gaze was countered with something wary—something fragile. Unless she talked to him, he’d never know what she was struggling with.
“It doesn’t matter, Jace.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t let the song we’re singing confuse you. This is business. Work. I’m the first duet you’ve had. I have no doubt, no doubt, there will be plenty of others.”
He knew good and well they weren’t talking about their song. Did she really have such a low opinion of him?
“It’s music. When it’s good, it should stir things up inside.” Her voice faded to a whisper.
“You’re telling me what I’m feeling isn’t real?” He knew better than that.
She blinked, her mouth opening. “Feeling?”
He nodded once, his heart damn near beating out of his chest. Yes, dammit, feeling.
“No.” She shook her head, stepping away from him.
She was scared. Of this? Of him? Of the feelings she was hell-bent on denying?
She tried again, her voice thick. “It’s not.” She kept shaking her head, determined to shut him down. “It’s a good song.”
The panic on her face was unexpected.
“I need to go. I was looking for my father.” She tore her gaze from his and made a show of staring down the hall in both directions.
“I thought it was Travis?”
She glared back up at him. “Travis, too. They’re together.” Her gaze fell from his.
She was a terrible liar. “I’ll tell them if I see them.” He ran his hands over his shirt front. “No pearls snaps? They’re growing on me.”
A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “If it makes you feel better, you can pull it off.”
“As long as the ink shows?” he clarified.
She stared long and hard at the black that covered most of the inside of his forearms. The cross covered up the skin graft he’d had from a pipe explosion on a rig. He’d been lucky. Two others had ended up with permanent disabilities and another dead. His other arm was covered with the day his son was born and the day he died, in roman numerals. A reminder, always, of how precious time was and to make the most of every second. Like now. This moment.
“Yup. Play up your strengths. You are hot.” She shrugged, that hard coldness seeping in, stiffening her posture and turning her voice brittle. “Follow my brother’s lead and you’ll learn how to make the most of it. Like he said, you’ll never have to sleep alone.”
He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. “Don’t get me wrong, I like your brother but that’s not who I am, Krystal. If you’d stand still long enough to listen to me, to give me a chance, you’d know that.”
Emerald green eyes sparkled up at him. “A chance at what? Making a mistake? One I promise you’ll regret?”
His chest pressed in, squeezing the air from his lungs. “Krystal—”
She covered his mouth, her gaze falling to her hand. “Leave it, Jace. You’ve got a show to worry about. Fans to dazzle. A career to build. That’s what you should be thinking about right now. That’s what matters. A lot of people are counting on you. Heather. My dad. Don’t screw this up.” She stepped around him and walked quickly away.
Fine. She was right—a lot of people were counting on him. He’d put on one hell of a show. But he wasn’t letting this go. He stared after her, waiting for her to disappear at the end of the hall before heading back to his dressing room.
“I like it.” Calvin nodded. “The sleeves. The tats. Good call.” He paused. “We need a hat.”
He had a hat. He didn’t need a new one.
Luke glanced up from his phone long enough to nod.
“Where’s Krystal?” Emmy looked around him.
He shrugged, shaking his head. “Looking for your dad or Travis or the nearest exit.”
“Can I be honest with you?” Emmy Lou studied him.
He nodded.
“I think you scare her.”
“Me?” He frowned. “But—”
“It’s nothing you’ve done. Being alone is…safer. She’s waiting for you to prove her right—that it’s better to be alone than risk getting hurt.”
Which sort of made sense. He knew she’d been hurt, knew she’d been used. It made sense she’d keep the rest of the world at arm’s length. And if he wasn’t falling for her, he’d walk away. It would be easier, that’s for sure. But… “I guess I’ll have to prove her wrong.”
Chapter 9
Krystal woke to a loud thump against the wall. She rolled over, pushing pillows out of the way, to peer at the green LED clock. Three forty-five in the morning.
A man laughing. Another thump and a door slamming into the wall. Not next door but close.
She rolled over, pulling a pillow over her face. “Are you frigging kidding me?”
Her head had started throbbing about midway through the last set. She was seeing stars and feeling nauseous by the meet and greet but managed to keep it together. When Travis wrangled Emmy Lou and Jace into going to an after-party, she waved them off and headed to her hotel room. A long soak in a hot tub. Turning down the temperature to subarctic. Sticking her feet in ice. Then, when all else failed, the eventual migraine prescription. Normally it knocked her out for a good six hours.
Normally there wasn’t some asshole falling into the wall of her hotel room.
Another round of laughter and a crash had her sitting up and kicking back the blankets.
“Oh, baby, don’t leave me,” a high-pitched, definitely drunk voice rang out in the hallway.
“Seriously?” She was up, unlatching the door and pulling it wide. She winced from the overhead fluorescent lights, the throb behind her eyes spreading around her head and down her neck. Whoever woke her had no idea the sort of shit storm she was about to unleash on them.
Jace.
Coldness leached into the soles of her feet and crept up, numbing everything—except her heart. Jace? She blinked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand before risking another look.
It was Jace. In his undershirt. He held his button-down shirt in one hand and propped himself on the hotel doorframe with the other. “I gotta go to bed. I’m exhausted.”
A pillow came sailing, hitting Jace in the face before falling to the floor.
Jace laughed, stooping—and wobbling—to pick up the pillow and tossing it back inside. “Night.” He pulled the door shut. With a groan, he leaned forward, resting his head against the door. “Damn. It.”
If she was smart, she’d move before he saw her but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t. She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to.
Why was she surprised?
He was a guy. A single guy. One who didn’t matter. At all. This didn’t matter. It didn’t.
She was a terrible liar—even when she was lying to herself.
Jace pushed off the door and turned, his surprise at finding her there almost comical. If he hadn’t been leaving the hotel room of the woman he’d just slept with. But he had. He’d just left her—right there, across the hall.
“Hey, Krystal.” His smile was off-center and his eyelids drooped.
“Hey?” It erupted from her like a cannon shot, echoing down the hall and leaving a resounding ringing in the ear. What was wrong with her?
He winced and braced himself against the wall. “Isn’t it late?” he asked. “How’s your head?”
“Are you kidding me?” She was shaking. And yelling. At three forty-five in the morning. In the hallway of her hotel. Because he’d slept with someone. Jace. Jace… He’d gotten drunk and partied and… He’d walked his one-night stand back to her hotel room because he was a gentleman.
“Oh shit,” she hissed, pressing her hand to her head. This hurt. To breathe. To think. Why did it have to hurt? Nothing had happened between them. Nothing. She couldn’t care about him. She didn’t. Dammit. Her eyes were burning and her nose began to run.
“You okay?” The fact that he looked concerned for her made it ten times worse.
She pressed her lips together, but a high-pitched sound forced its way out, like a teapot screaming when the water was boiling. She was boiling, all right. It didn’t make sense and she had no right, but that didn’t seem to matter. I believed you. I did.
Her gaze fell to his shirt, wadded up in his hand. “You could have gotten dressed.” Images of Jace rolling around in bed with some faceless, nameless person sleeping right across the hall from her took over. Bile burned her throat.
He and his warm brown eyes and worried—gorgeous—expression managed to make it to her door. “Krystal. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Why would anything be wrong?” She sniffed. I am not going to cry. She pointed at the room he’d just left. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself tonight. Now go away—sleep it off. Take a shower.” At least she wasn’t yelling anymore.
He was close enough she could see the utter confusion on his face. “What?”
Her heart twisted. No, her heart wasn’t allowed to react to Jace Black. Her heart was off-limits to him—to any man.
“You lost me.” He pressed a hand to his head.
No, you lost me. Her voice broke. “For your sake—and her sake—I hope you wore a condom.” That last part definitely climbed back into the yelling category. She slammed the door, a solid thud echoed.
“Ow, shit,” he groaned.
He’d been standing so close, she’d probably hit him in the face. Instead of making her feel better, she was close to tears. If she cried—which she didn’t. Besides, she had no reason to cry. It was her head that hurt, not her heart.
“Krystal, let me in.” He knocked.
“Go away.” Her words were too garbled to understand.
“Let me in. You don’t understand—”
“I do, believe me, I do.” She couldn’t even be mad at him. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if she’d given him any reason to wait for her. If anything, she’d gone out of her way to make sure he understood they would never ever happen.
He’d found someone to spend the night with. So what?
Her head was pounding again, nausea strong enough that she ran for a glass of water.
“Krystal.” He pounded on the door now. “Are you okay? Please let me in.”
She didn’t bother answering. There wasn’t anything to say at this point. Her head was hurting, and she needed quiet and the dark and a hot bath to calm her nerves.
A bath helped. She stayed mostly submerged in near-scalding water for an hour, refilling the tub to keep it hot. Not that lying in the dark, in hot water, could erase the mental image of Jace doing all the things she’d imagined him doing to her—to someone else. Every time she started crying, she’d submerge herself in water and come up coughing.
At five, she slipped from her hotel room and made her way to the buses. She ignored the questions on Sawyer’s face, left a note for Misumi to get her things from the hotel before they left, and barricaded herself in her sleeping compartment with her guitar and a bucket of Red Vines. Clementine roused herself long enough from her velvet doggy bed to climb up by her side before curling into a ball of white fluff that snored.
The knocking began around nine.
“Krystal, breakfast.” Emmy Lou was first.
“Headache,” she called back.
“Still?” Emmy Lou paused, whispering to someone. “Daddy wants to talk to all of us. You get some sleep and we’ll all have lunch together. Okay?”
“Fine,” she mumbled. With any luck, “all of us” wouldn’t include Jace.
“Mommy can’t face him, Clem.” She picked up her beloved pooch and held her nose to nose. “I did a very bad thing.” But she couldn’t say the rest of it out loud. Admitting she had feelings for Jace to anyone, even Clementine, wouldn’t change a thing. Better not to say the words out loud.
At eleven, the bus came to a stop.
“Baby girl.” Her father knocked on the door. “You take your medicine?”
“Yeah,” she answered.
“You okay?”
Maybe it was because she hesitated. Maybe it was because her daddy always seemed to know when she was upset. Or maybe it was because she hadn’t locked the door—but her father opened the door and peered inside before she could come up with a reason to keep him out.
He stood there, hands on hips, looking at her. “What’s going on, Krystal?”
She shook her head.
“Now I don’t believe that for one second.” He sighed, crossing the room to sit on her bunk. He offered Clementine a quick scratch behind the ear. “Had to pry Travis out of his bed this morning, nursing a powerful hangover. Found Jace asleep outside your hotel room door, but he’s a little hazy on the rest. And you’re playing hide-and-seek when we have business to discuss.”
“I’m not hiding.” She knew he was goading her.
“Then what are you doing?” He waited. “And why?”
She shook her head.
“Your head hurting?” He pressed his hand against her cheek.
“Not really.” Which wasn’t true. She might not have a migraine anymore, but getting zero sleep had left her with a dull ache.
“Think you can manage to sit and discuss the Austin Country Music Festival?” He paused, waiting for her reaction. “They’re looking for a host. Or two.”
He wanted her to be excited, she could tell. And, since it was her daddy, she did her best to smile and nod. “Oh?” She swallowed, pulling Clem into her arms.
“Come on, now. Emmy’s got your vanilla coffee thing out here waiting for you.” He stood, holding his hand out to her.
“Is Jace here, Daddy?” She had to know.
He stared down at her, an odd look on his face. “He is. Is there something I need to know?”
“No. Nothing. Nothing at all.” She shook her head. “I need a minute.”
“You’ve got five.”
Once he left, she splashed cold water on her face, twisted her hair into a sloppy bun, and tugged on a massive black sweatshirt that made her feel invisible. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. In general, she looked like hell.
“Not like there’s anyone to impress.” She flipped off the light, scooped up Clem, and ventured from the shelter of her dim bedroom into the overcrowded cab of the bus she shared with her sister.
“Here.” Emmy pressed the tall paper cup into her hands. “I’m sorry you’re feeling bad. It seems to be going around.”
Armed with her dog and her coffee, Krystal dug deep for the sass she needed to survive. “Pardon me if I don’t shower them with sympathy.” She squeezed into a chair with Emmy and did her best not to look at anyone else in the room.
Not Travis or Emmy or Jace. Especially not Jace. Even though she could see him from the corner of her eye, even though he was staring at her.
“What’s the plan for ACMF, Daddy?” Emmy was the only one who seemed excited.
He clapped his hands together, smiling broadly. “They want the three of you to host the awards show. And they want Krystal and Jace to sing the new single.”
“Dad,” Travis moaned.
“I’m with your sister on this one, Son. I don’t take kindly to paying for damages to hotel rooms.” Her father wasn’t happy. “You’re a King, boy. I need you to remember that before you pull something else like this, you hear me?”
Krystal glanced at her brother. There was a green cast to his skin, his lips dry and pale. “You look like crap.”
“You’re not exactly little Miss Sunshine yourself this morning.” Travis shot her a look. “What the hell was last night about?”
She sipped her coffee. “Last night I was taking migraine meds while, apparently, you were trashing a hotel room.”
