Chapter 6
Jett
I turn so I’m facing away from Shayla’s table. I scowl at my empty mug before I signal the bartender for another drink.
Exhaustion slams into me like a wrecking ball. From everything that’s been building up for the past few days. From all the travelling, playing one show after another. It’s a lot to take. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue for me. I love touring, and I can never play enough shows. Especially these days. Sold-out arenas. Everyone screaming for us. The after parties. The sex.
Nothing wrong with that.
But I haven’t been sleeping much lately. Hardly at all. Every time I manage to drift off, I dream of Shayla. I can never remember the dreams, but waking up from them is torture.
I never thought I’d see her again. Tailspin’s New York dates have always been in the back of my mind. For the entire tour, I’ve been switching between looking forward to coming here, and dreading it. Just knowing I’d be in the same city at the same time as her was a little too much to take.
And that’s what’s really been keeping me up at night. I never have trouble sleeping on the bus. Or the plane, or anywhere. Except lately. Everything’s becoming a grind instead of a great time. I’ve even been dragging myself through my shows. That’s something I never expected to happen. Not in a million years.
Now that I’ve seen Shayla, it’s nothing like what I expected. Somehow she looks even better than I remembered. If I ever saw her again, I thought it would be the other way around. That I’d built her up so much in my mind that the reality just couldn’t be quite as good.
But it’s better. She looks better.
I can’t think this way. Now I could really use a quick fix to get my mind off Shayla. For once and for all.
A quick glance around the bar shows me that there’s no-one left in here that I want to fuck. Not a single damn one.
I let my eyes skate quickly past Shayla and her friends. I can’t help but notice how animated she is. How happy. Like us breaking up didn’t even register on her radar. Looks like she made the right choice. New York’s sure working out for her.
Fuck this. I down my drink and stalk out of the bar. Deflated, I head to the elevator. I’m so not in the mood to be around anyone. Not anymore.
Back up in my room, all I want to do is pass out. But I haven’t had nearly enough to drink for that. And I’m too hungry. After putting in a quick room service order, I lie down.
A knock on the door jolts me awake. I have no idea how long that took, or how long I’ve been asleep for. I don’t even care about food now. I was finally getting some sleep.
I pull the door open and my eyes widen. It’s not room service.
“Hi, Jett.”
“Hey. Shayla.” Without thinking, I open the door wider and she comes in. What am I doing? I let the door fall closed behind her as I rub at my eyes.
Instead of taking one of the chairs in the room, she sits on the bed, leaning back onto her arms.
“What happened to your friends?” I slide a chair over to be closer to her.
“They’re still downstairs.” She smooths out the sheet beside her to avoid meeting my gaze.
“So, what brings you by?”
“It’s been a long time, Jett. I wanted to catch up some more. I miss you. I was hoping we could be friends.”
What the fuck?
I blink hard to make sure I’m not dreaming. You can’t blink in dreams. At least I don’t think you can.
Not dreaming. Shayla’s still here. In my room. On my bed. Right where I imagined her being so many times. But that scenario never included talking about being friends.
A deep frown creases my brow. “Friends.” Did she really just say that?
“Maybe…” She crosses and uncrosses her legs. “Friends with benefits.” Her eyes meet mine as her tongue slides over her lips.
Fuck.
I know that look. I know what every single expression of hers means.
Friends with benefits. This isn’t how my fantasy of this goes. It’s one I call up pretty often during long nights on the road. And it doesn’t go like this.
I sit back in my chair. “Are you drunk?”
She laughs. “Not even a little bit.” She might be wrong there. It doesn’t take that much alcohol to go to her head, and I know she had at least a couple of mixed drinks downstairs. “So what do you say?”
“Seriously? Is that how they do this in New York?”
She gives me her best smile. “No. Sometimes. I don’t know. Why do we need to waste time circling around it when we both know what we want?”
“What makes you think I want to have sex with you?”
Shayla glances down to see my swollen cock betraying me.
“Okay. I’ll start again.” Leaning forward, she runs her hand over my chest. Her fingers reach the bare skin of my arm and the room heats up. “It’s been a long time, Jett. For us. And I miss you. You were good. Better than anyone else.”
“Yeah. Right.” I clench my jaw tightly. A flare of hope ignited in me when she said she misses me. For a whole two seconds, until she made it just about sex.
And I don’t even want to think about any other guys she might’ve been with since we broke up.
She shakes her head, her hand still travelling down my arm. “It’s true. I think about you. About your hands.” She leans in even closer. “About that time on the beach.”
Hell. That’s a thought I’ve had myself. My breath catches. I want to rip her clothes off. Use every part of me to make her scream.
Her eyes are full of fire. “I know you remember that night.”
Fuck. I want her so much, it’s almost impossible to hold back.
But this can’t happen. She won’t get the chance to break my heart twice.
Shayla shifts so she’s moving in between my legs. “You want me.”
She’s not wrong. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not.” She’s close enough now that we could kiss. “You were going to bring her back up here, weren’t you.”
“No.” I can barely remember the woman from the bar. Not the point, but I actually wouldn’t have brought her to my room. We would have gone to hers. I don’t sleep with the women I have sex with. Never. Not since Shayla.
“Because you would’ve gone to her place?”
I laugh, and so does she. Shayla knows me too well. The tension between us dissolves. For a moment, it’s like everything was before we broke up. No-one else makes me feel this way.
I know her, too. Every single inch of her skin. Everything she likes. Everything that makes her lose all control.
Fuck this. I want to pull her onto my lap.
I swallow hard.
Her eyes glitter. She knows she’s got me.
I move closer, inhaling her sweet rosy scent. She parts her lips.
A sharp rap at the door makes us both jump.
Damn it. Flying out of my seat, I throw the door open, ready to tear a strip off whoever’s there.
“Hello, sir.” A uniformed man carrying a tray is waiting for me to let him in. Room service. In the moments since Shayla got here, I’d forgotten all about the food.
“That’s quite the dinner.” Shayla’s off the bed, inspecting my order after the man sets down the tray and goes off. “Oatmeal? Toast?”
The moment between us is gone.
That’s for the best.
It is.
“I didn’t eat breakfast yet. Have some if you want.” I’m not hungry anymore. Not for anything except Shayla.
She turns back to face me. “Thanks, but I’m good.” We stare at each other for a heartbeat. Maybe longer. “I should go,” she says finally.
“Good to see you, Shayla.”
And once again, she walks out of my life. Just like that.
I grab an orange from the tray and climb into bed, clicking the TV on.
I need to relax.
It’s not happening.
Why the fuck did I turn down sex with Shayla? I’m an idiot. I know it.
But I have to protect myself.
We can’t just have casual sex. With Shayla, there wouldn’t be anything casual about it.
Not for me, at least.