Page 75 of Enticing the Enforcer
“He has a list of people he wants to sleep with. He’s carried it around for years, and you were number one on that list.”
I stare at her, waiting for the bomb to drop, because what she just said isn’t it. “It’s no surprise Jefferson had a crush on me. He’s admitted he’s a fan. People have celebrity crushes. It’s not a big deal.”
The look she gives me makes it clear she thinks I’m an idiot. “Yeah, well, that’s why he left you that note on your locker. He was shooting his shot, aiming for another notch on his hockey stick.” She smirks at the gross innuendo. “It was the one and only time you’d be in town and he made a play. Thank god you didn’t fall for it, although he ended up getting another opportunity.”
The hum of the tires on the asphalt and the distant wail of sirens fill the space between us. She has no idea I met him that night, that I’d been curious enough to find out more. We hadn’t had sex, but there’s no doubt in my mind he would have if I’d wanted to.
Was that all I was? A celebrity conquest?
No.No.I don’t believe that. We didn’t have sex for weeks, and it was on my terms.
“Who told you this?”
“The girls,” she admits easily. “After you two were snuggled up at the Frozen Four after party. They knew how much he was into you and were excited to see him actually make a move–although, from what I gather, not exactly surprised. According to them he’s always been a huge player…”
My gut churns, and I turn away from her.
“I’m sorry, Ing,” she says. “I just thought you’d want to know who you’re dating.”
“I do know who I’m dating.”
But the words don’t land as strongly as I want them to.
The SUV eases into the parking garage, the noises of the city falling behind. I don’t look at Madison. I can’t, not now. WhatI can do–will do–is focus on the night ahead and give my Flock the best damn show I can.
“Thank you,”I breathe, ignoring the sweat dripping down my back. The crowd is a sea of moving bodies, all abuzz over my lyrics. My voice feels like it’s rubbed raw, my legs weak, knowing it’s almost over. “There would be no tour if it weren’t for you.”
“We love you, Ingrid!” The chorus of support and adoration bounces back at me.
The concerts have gone off amazingly. Huge stars showed up on stage, sharing the spotlight with me, filling the arena with energy and awe. Every night has been a whirlwind, but tonight–tonight is the last. Any lingering thoughts of relationships, the future, men, their motives, fade behind the roar of the crowd. He’s texted me every night, telling me he watched the shows online. I send back thank yous, brushing them off with “busy” or “tired,” whatever excuse keeps me focused. I need time to think, and right now, there’s no time for anything but this.
The stage behind me has fallen dark, other than twinkling lights that mimic stars. A stage hand walks over and hands me my guitar, and I loop the strap over my head and shoulder. “I know you love the hits, and I love them too, but it didn’t feel right closing down this show without giving you a little gift of something new.”
The first chords vibrate in my chest. It’s a familiar feeling, one that I experience every time I let one of my songs fly for the first time. It starts with an acoustic beat, then the band moves in quietly behind me.
“You walk me down the empty streets
Actin’ like this could repeat
But I’ve been the girl in someone’s dream
And I know how this ends
You’ve got charm, you’ve got the game
Silver tongue and a well-known name
I let you close, but not too far
You don’t get to say you had me
I pulled you into shadows,gave you one good kiss
Your hands said maybe, but baby–
I told you what this is…
You can call it magic,call it fun
