Page 9 of Her Filthy Mistake

“That’s not what happened.”

“You were crying too hard over losing Samantha that you couldn’t get it up?” Jealousy shoots arrows of pain through my brain. I hated Samantha with every fiber of my body. She was the other lead vocalist in his original band. The songs he wrote about her haunting beauty. The tragic pain in his voice. The declarations of love. All of it was written for her. And she tossed it all in his face and married their bass player.

He shakes his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything.”

I watch him as he disappears back into the dining room. The muscles in his back bunch and roll under his skintight T-shirt as he moves like he’s a caged animal ready to pounce and destroy the next person who makes the mistake of talking to him.

What’s wrong with me? Why am I so drawn to the damaged musician? Why do I have this savior complex like I’m going to erase all his pain, and he’s going to shout his never-ending love for me, and then write sweet songs about growing old together and watching our family expand. And let’s not forget that each song hits the Billboard Top 10. And that he worships me for believing in him when no one else did.

God, I sound like an idiot and have obviously spent way too much time fantasizing about him.

Fifteen minutes later, I’d wallowed in my depression long enough and made to rejoin our group. My mother invited two other couples from their friend group, and one of their daughters tagged along with them.

I stop in mid-step a few yards from the table. The only available space is between my mom and Jace as Zorya bounces in her seat, talking about something she saw on TV. And he has the audacity to appear intrigued. How does he pull that off?

I settle in between them while attempting to adjust the chair toward my mom. But as I shift in the seat, my thigh brushes against his, and he responds by scraping the feet of his chair on the floor and moving away from me. “Sorry.”

“I don’t have leprosy,” I mutter as much to myself as him.

“And I don’t have performance issues,” he growls.

“Fine.” Every muscle in my body is taut with tension.

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” I snatch my tea glass from across the table and take a couple of sips. I’m not thirsty but I need to do something with my hands. That’s not good enough. Where’s the waitress? I need something with a little more bite than tea.

“Jace?” My stepfather leans in front of my mom and studies Jace as Zayden chats with the two couples at the other end of the table.

“Yes?”

“When we talked earlier, I forgot to ask if you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not dating anyone.” He straightens his back as his jaw clenches and doesn’t unclench.

“Why not?” My mom’s eyebrows arch upward. “You’d make a fantastic husband and father, and it’s time you settled down.”

I’m so tired of listening to everyone talk about Jace and other women. “I thought Dad was supposed to be here.” Even though I’m not looking at Jace, I feel the vibration of his body shift. Stop. Stop trying to read his moods and fix the man. He’s none of your damned business.

“He won’t be here until later in the week.”

“Oh?” I frown. “He hadn’t said anything to me about it at work.”

My dad gave me a job at his record label after I graduated from college, and I love it. I’ve been obsessed with the music industry since I was a child and spent hours at the studio when my father would bring in talent for auditions. And I’d stuck around ever since, learning everything I could during the summers and after classes got out during the year.

“Your father had a last-minute meeting that came up.” My mom fans her face as if she’s hot, but the room has a solid air conditioning system. “And Hollis didn’t want to join us without him.”

My dad married Hollis and had my half-sister, Lilith, less than a year after splitting from my mom. Clearly, my father didn’t have the same fascination with the letter Z. No one has ever said, but my guess is that my father and Hollis had seen each other before my parents even separated. But Hollis is a wonderful woman, and she’s better suited for my dad than my mom was.

My mom is a confident, independent woman, and my dad likes to boss people around. They didn’t mesh well after a while, but they get along much better now that they aren’t a couple.

“Sing it!” Zorya teases Jace from her position beside him where she’s been monopolizing his time. “Sing it!”

“As you wish, princess.” He smiles at her. “You are my sunshine. My only sunshine….” His velvet-smooth voice sends a shiver along my spine as my sister giggles uncontrollably. “You make me happy.”

The hairs on my arms stand as the room grows quiet, and everyone listens to his rendition of the song. His voice goes lower, making the walls of my sex clench. Lord, I need a fire extinguisher.

When he finishes, the room erupts in clapping, and Zorya throws herself into his arms.

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