Page 26 of Embody

Nine

JT

I GO TOa bar to get my mind off the strictly prohibited, innocent girl of my every fantasy as of late, and lo and behold—there she is. With a drunk for a fucking designated driver and being publicly seduced by a musician with a God complex no less.

My blood is boiling, but lucky for her she agreed to leave with me, and as I manage to gently help her into the front seat of my car, I immediately start to feel less homicidal. And shout-out to “my gut”…I knew there was a reason I waved to Sutton as the cab pulled off and insisted on driving myself tonight.

So much is going on in my head right now, I can’t decide what I want to discuss with her first. I get behind the wheel and just sit there, taking deep breaths, causing me to inhale her sweet scent…which is doing anything but helping me organize my thoughts.

If I’m too much of a “playboy” for her, then she damn sure has no business waiting around for a wanna-be rock star.What the hell was she thinking?

“Jefferson,” she shakily whispers. “I really appreciate the ride home, but I think you might have to start the car to accomplish that.”

“Dammit!” I slam both hands on the wheel, as frustrated as I can ever remember being.

Bellamy flinches, no doubt scared by my lunatic behavior. “What, what’s wrong?” she asks in clear panic.

“Where should I start?” I scoff, then gentle my voice to admit and release some of what’s bothering me. “I like the way you say my name, my real name. Your subtle sarcasm is adorable and funny. And I’m not even gonna pretend that I don’t love your smokin’ fucking hot body. Or your beauty. Mesmerizing, really.”

“Oh,” her response is barely audible as she shifts in her seat. “Um…thank you. I had no idea.”

“Yes you did. I know you felt something too, at least a slight attraction or curiosity. What, she forbid you too?”

“Huh? Who? From what?”

Shit. I didn’t mean to say that last part, I really didn’t. I never narc on my little sister…and yet, I just did.

“Nothing, never mind. Where do you live?” I start the car, turning on the radio.

She reaches over and turns it right back off again. “Appleton Apartments, on the corner of Broad and Maple. Now answer my questions.”

I exhale a labored breath, heavy with guilt and dread of the upcoming war I know I just started. “Bellamy, I can’t. Please just forget what I said. Forget all of it. It’s what’s best. Let me get you home safe, then we can both pretend this night never happened.” I put the car in gear and pull out.

“Is that what you want?” God, she’s so calm. And sincere, sexy and off-limits…a man only has so much willpower.

“What doyouwant? Rocker guy?” I should probably squash the jealousy in my voice if I’m serious about forgetting everything.

Why can’t I move on from this girl, like every single one before her? It’d be nothing but trouble and a fight with my family to pursue her. And I barely know her. But despite my best efforts, I just can’t seem to get any of that to matter most.

It’s gotta be the classic ‘I want what I can’t have’ allure. Brynn should give me the green light and this would all go away. Right?

“No,” she snickers. “It was a cool experience and yeah, he was attractive. Plus, the rock star vibe is like, I don’t know, universally hot, but I’m pretty level-headed. It would take more than some showy flirting to get me to change, well,everything about myself. And the lead singer said “something” he likes and Zeke didn’t correct him. I’m not athing.”

“But you were gonna wait for him after the show?” Again, not exactly supporting my ‘forget it all’ campaign.

“Honestly?” She pauses, tilting her head in deep consideration. “No, I wouldn’t have. Not to pigeonhole anyone, but I’m not willing to find out personally, alone, if the groupie sex, drugs and after-party stereotypes are true or exaggerated. I probably would’ve chatted with him off to the side, said “thanks for the song,” but I wouldn’t have gone backstage or anywhere private with him.”

“I believe you. Good thing too, since you’re best friends with my sister,” I grumble just as we pull up in front of her apartment complex and I park, then open my door.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking you up to your apartment.” I quickstep around to help her out.

“You don’t have to do that. Nobody else ever has and I’ve always been fine.”

“Bellamy, give me your hand.” I hold mine out and wait to see if she’ll “come to me,” smiling when she does with no hesitation. I shut her door and don’t let go of her tiny hand as we walk toward the building. “I wasn’t raised to let ladies out at the curb or walk alone in the dark. And you should expect nothing less from a real man.”

“A man, real or otherwise, has never been here,” she mutters…making me all kinds of happy.

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