Page 49 of Miss Understood

Jesse swallows hard, but his face doesn’t falter. “You know I do.”

“I—um. Okay, let me just—” Willow stumbles over her words as she grabs a bag. I feel a little guilty dragging her into whatever is happening between Jesse and me at the moment, but I can’t help it.

He and I are locked in a stare, and I’m no longer sure if it’s irritation, annoyance, or tear-your-clothes-off passion that’s vibrating between us.

Maybe all three.

I’ve always heard that sex makes things complicated, but I never got it. Until now. Until him.

“Here you go.” Willow holds the bag out, and we both go to take it, my fingers lighting up with electricity the moment I brush Jesse’s skin.

I’m so fucked right now.

I let Jesse take it and wave goodbye to Willow as she starts helping the next customer. I’ll have to apologize to her later for that little display. Maybe once Jesse and I are no longer married, I’ll explain myself.

No longer married.

That hits me in a soft spot. God, what am I, a bruised peach? I don’t have soft spots. Never have, never will.

“You are getting way too comfortable saying that,” I say to Jesse as we maneuver through the crowd. He places his hand on my lower back to guide me around a family, and my skin tingles.

“What am I getting too comfortable with exactly?” he says.

“Saying you’re my husband.” I flick a glare up to him.

Jesse smiles and dips his head down to plant a playful kiss on the top of my head. “Just holding up my side of our agreement,” he says. “Remember. Outside those walls, we’re married.”

“Then maybe we should stay inside them from now on.”

If only that were less dangerous.

18

Luce

There’sanendlesshighrunning through me. It might be the music blaring through the stadium, or the heat of thousands of bodies gyrating. Or maybe it’s the kiss I still feel on my lips from when Jesse pushed me up against the wall before I left. But if I never come down, I’ll be fine with that.

“I called it,” Monica yells over the crowd between screams.

There’s no way the three of us will have voices tomorrow at this rate.

The crowd screams louder, and I realize Enemy Muse’s lead singer, Sebastian Kane, has stripped his shirt off. He tosses his shaggy hair out of his eyes, and sweat drips over his rock-hard abs. Our seats are so close that if Sebastian moves any closer to the edge of the stage, I could lick the sweat from his body.

Three weeks ago, I’d probably be trying to get Monica’s sister to sneak me backstage. After all, Merry is part of their crew; she has access. But right now, all I can think about is Jesse.

“What did you call?” I yell back at Monica.

“You sleeping with Jesse,” Monica says with a grin, and Kennedy smiles as she sings along to the lyrics.

Monica and Kennedy have been hinting at Jesse and I hooking up for two years, well before Vegas. And I wasn’t lying when I told them it wasn’t going to happen. At the time, I wholeheartedly believed it.

“Oh, my goodness, look at your face,” Monica yells with a finger pointed at me. “You’re blushing.”

“It’s hot as fuck in here,” I say. “If anything, maybe I’m getting heatstroke.”

“No.” Kennedy shakes her head. “You are so into him.”

“It’s just sex!” I yell back.

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