Just a Crush Read online

  I frown. “Leave her out of this.”

  She rolls her eyes. “It really is Harmony all over again.”

  Knox raises his head but doesn’t say a word.

  Jordan groans. “Everybody just shut up for a second! Okay?”

  We go quiet but the tension remains high as Jordan paces repeatedly along the same five feet of floor. She thinks hard, nearly coming to a start only to close her mouth again.

  I sit forward in my chair. “Okay, look,” I say, drawing everyone’s eyes. “It’s not cool that I brought in someone new without considering the band first. I knew better and I’m sorry.”

  Jordan bites down hard before deflating. “I’m sorry, too,” she says. “You asked for time off and I didn’t listen. I kept pushing you instead and that wasn’t fair to you. Any of you.”

  We nod at each other, accepting each other’s apologies.

  “Let’s take five,” she suggests. “We’ll come back and decide on a set list for the show.”

  “Without a new song?” Knox asks, side-eying me.

  “Without the new song,” I confirm.

  Knox scoffs, rises from his chair, and bolts before anyone else can. Addison crumbles her napkin and carries it over to the small table of treats my mother set out. Bronson just sits and fiddles with his phone while Jordan grabs hers and walks out of the room.

  Katrina pauses beside my chair with a concerned look on her face. “You okay?” she asks.

  I scratch beneath the rim of my beanie next to my ear. “Yeah,” I answer.

  She moves her hair to fall behind one shoulder to keep from sitting on it as she takes the now-empty seat beside me. “He’ll cool off,” she says. “You guys always do.”

  “I know.”

  “That song really was nice.”

  I look at her and nod. “Knox thought you’d hate it.”

  “It’s not my style, admittedly,” she says. “But it’s very… you. A different you but still you. You should play it solo.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Must be some new girl you’ve got there. I’m happy for you,” she says. “I’ve always told you that you were brilliant, you know.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “I’m glad that someone’s finally getting you to see that.” She straightens her dress as she stands. “Don’t give that up.”

  My chest clenches as she walks off. Of all the people in this room, the one I didn’t expect to be pro-Marla was Katrina. She’s one of my oldest friends and has seen me at my best and worst, possibly more than anybody else here come to think. In the end, it’s not at all surprising to me that she sees something here that the others might not.

  Marla has opened me up in new ways. Ways I’m dying to explore a little deeper. Ways no woman ever could before.

  I’m not sure I’m strong enough to say no to that.

  Even if I have to sacrifice everything I’ve built to take what I want.

  Sixteen

  Marla

  I groan softly to myself. I’ve read this page before, haven’t I? I mean, there’s no way this textbook could be this repetitive.

  I slump back on the couch and stare across the room at the late-night talk show on the television. A quick rest of the eyes and I’ll get back to it, hopefully with enough juice to make it through this chapter before bed.

  There’s a light tap on the door and I tense up. It’s far too late for company and much too early for Mom to be home.

  I slide my textbook off my lap and set it on the coffee table in front of me while I hit mute on the television remote. My ears narrow, listening for signs of someone walking off the porch. Instead, they knock again, this time a little louder. If I don’t answer, they’ll wake the boys. If the boys wake up…

  Yeah, no.

  Not happening.

  I ease off the couch and walk over, keeping a firm grip on my phone behind my back just in case as I peek through the curtains.

  A man stands on the porch, casually leaning against the doorframe with one hand. He’s mostly obscured in shadow but the round top of his dark beanie gives him away.

  I flick the lock and slowly open the door. “Jonah?” I whisper.

  Even in darkness, I see the curl of his smile. “Hey,” he says, matching my volume.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Why are we whispering?”

  “Because trying to get two three-year-olds to go back to sleep isn’t my idea of fun. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  I close my mouth. Can’t say I expected that answer. “You did?” I ask, accidentally at full volume.

  “Yeah,” he says, still whispering as he drops his arm and stands up tall. “Can I come in?”

  Can he come in?

  He wants to come in?

  Why does he want to come in? Why is he here?

  Because he wanted to see me.

  Not hear me or speak to me. For that, he could have called or texted.

  No, he wanted to see me.

  In person.

  This late at night.

  But why?

  “Okay, blink twice if you’re in some kind of hostage situation and it would be unsafe to talk,” he says, smiling.

  “No—” I snort. “Sorry, I just wasn’t…” I take a step back. “Yes. Come in. Of course.”

  Jonah steps forward and takes a few soft steps over the threshold. I close the door behind us, carefully locking it and taking a few deep, calming breaths before turning around again.

  Be cool, lady.

  I look at Jonah to find him scanning the room with wide-open eyes; from the old carpet to the small television and half-broken furniture. “What?” I ask, nervous.

  “I always like other people’s houses,” he says. “It’s a glimpse, you know? It’s nice to get a glimpse at what’s considered normal for other people.”

  “Poor people?” I ask.

  He looks at me and nods. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess.”

  I cross my arms. I tap my foot. I can’t believe I let him in. I can’t believe I allowed a billionaire to just walk into my house and I somehow thought I wouldn’t end up feeling like crap as a result.

  But his eyes catch mine again and I pause. His bright irises show darker than normal, full of considerable pain and doubt.

  “Jonah, are you okay?” I ask.

  He inhales but quickly releases it and stands there. After a moment, he reaches up and slides his beanie off his head, thoughtfully rubbing his lush, brown hair with his other hand. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I’m all right. Just had a rough day and I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so…”

  I lower my arms to my sides, my gut twinging with sympathy. “Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

  “Strangely, yeah,” he answers. “I do.”

  “Okay, um…” I glance around him at the first door in the hall; my brothers’ room. “Come with me.”

  I gesture to the hallway and he follows, mimicking my light steps as we pass by the boys’ room and continue down to the final door at the end.

  “We can speak freely in here,” I whisper as I crack the door open. “Walls are pretty thick.”

  Jonah nods and walks into my bedroom… and I suddenly realize what I’ve done.

  I just invited Jonah Botsford into my bedroom.

  Fuck.

  I straighten up, swallow hard, and close the door behind us.

  Just like in the living room, Jonah pauses in the center of my room and scans around, the edges of his mouth digging in as he spots the posters of familiar album art. “Criminal Records,” he says.

  “Yeah, they’re not bad,” I quip.

  “They’re all right.” He frowns as he drops to sit on the edge of my bed. “I hear the bassist can be kind of an ass, though…”

  I stay standing and lean against my desk in front of him. “Did something happen at the meeting today?” I ask.

  He nods. “They found out about Unique Utopia,” he sa
ys. “They didn’t take it well.”

  My brow furrows. “Why not? Did they just… not like the sound? I did say it doesn’t seem like your usual sound.”

  “No, they loved it. They even wanted to learn it as soon as possible so we could play it on Tuesday, but…” He shakes his head. “I told them I’d rather record it solo instead.”

  “Solo?” I ask. “Why solo?”

  His shoulders shrug and his hands turn up as his eyes flash with desperation. “I don’t…” He exhales. “I feel protective of it. It was the first song I wrote after… well, you. I don’t want to share it with anyone else.”

  “Well, that…” I look down as blood rushes to my cheeks. “That sounds reasonable. It’s just one song, right?”

  “Right. But add that to a few weeks of tension and awkward spats and we’re in a tense situation. It’ll pass. It’s nothing we haven’t weathered before, it just…” He rubs the stubble on his chin. “You ever get the feeling you’re outgrowing yourself? Like… like the person you fought so hard to become isn’t the one you were meant to be? That you got it wrong from the beginning but now it’s too late to change it?”

  I blink. “Are you… talking about quitting the band?” I ask slowly.

  “No,” he says as if on impulse. “I’m… okay. Yeah. Maybe I am.”

  My mouth sags but no sound comes out. I just stare at him, his shoulders heavy as he looks at the floor.

  After a minute, he raises his head and smiles. “And I can tell by your expression you think that’s a bad idea.”

  “Well…” I shake my head. “I mean, I do admit that I’m a little biased.”

  “You want your favorite band to stay together forever.”

  “Very much so, yes.” I bite my cheek as I step forward. “But I also don’t really like seeing you this way, so…” I sit down beside him. “I thought you loved music.”

  “I do,” he says. “I love it. I love them. I love everything about what I have but there’s just… something’s missing. Something I can’t pin down.”

  “Sounds like you need a vacation,” I say.

  He chuckles. “You don’t say?”

  “Seriously. You have all the means in the world to do whatever you want. Just go.”

  “Just go?” he repeats.

  “Yeah.” I laugh. “Jonah, I’d give anything to be in your shoes; to be able to take off whenever I wanted to, go wherever I wanted to go — on a private jet, no less. That’s what you need, I think. Take the time off and go.”

  “If I did, would you go with me?”

  My breath hitches. “You’d want me to go with you?”

  He nods, offering nothing more.

  “I couldn’t,” I say. “I have school and my family. I don’t have that luxury—”

  “What if you did?” he asks. “Would you go?”

  I hesitate. “You mean… in this wild, hypothetical situation in which I have unlimited time, unlimited money, and unlimited resources to be able to drop everything and go with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then… yes. Yes, I would.”

  Jonah leans closer to me and I freeze from a cocktail of excitement and flat-out fear. He kisses me softly, first on the corner of my cheek. Before I can take a breath, his lips purse and he kisses me again, this time full on the mouth.

  My spine stiffens. A mistake. It must be some kind of mistake.

  His lips part and I feel his hand come to my face, fingers curling around my cheek to pull me even closer toward him.

  Oh, my god.

  Not a mistake.

  Jonah Botsford is kissing me.

  Jonah Botsford is kissing me and he likes it.

  Do I like it?

  What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I like it. Of course my heart is pounding and my skin is on fire and I’m pretty sure I can’t feel my toes.

  Jonah eases forward, guiding me to lie backward on my bed. My mind turns to mush, thoughts and feelings lost in the churn. I can’t move. I can’t think.

  Jonah Botsford is kissing me and...

  His hand slides down to my breast.

  Oh, my god.

  I recoil away. “Jonah—”

  He stops. He opens his eyes and looks at me and his hand and the state of us. “Ah, shit,” he says, pulling back. “I’m sorry. I really misread that moment.”

  “No, you didn’t, I just...” My eyes fall while the rest of me buzzes wild. “I wasn’t prepared for...”

  Jonah studies me, full of interest. “Was that your first kiss?” he asks.

  “No!” I force a chuckle. “No. I’ve done the kissing part before — way before. Like once, maybe?”

  “Once?”

  “Twice?”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s the rest that I’m...”

  His eyes widen. “Oh.”

  “Right. Oh.”

  “That’s cute.”

  I blink. “That’s cute?”

  “I don’t mean cute, I just mean...” He sits back and his lips twitch. “Actually, yeah. I mean cute. The blushing virgin is something you hear about but it’s not something I encounter much in my line of work.”

  I hang my head. “Okay...”

  Jonah laughs and reaches out, laying a friendly hand on mine. “Marla. It’s okay. The moment has passed and... honestly, it was a mistake.”

  “Yeah. Right.” I swallow hard. “It was?”

  He shifts, letting one foot drop off the bed to the floor. “I mean, we’re friends and I really like our friendship.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’ve never had a girlfriend like you before and I mean that as in girl that is a friend, not a girlfriend. I have plenty of platonic girlfriends but, I don’t know, this feels different in some way. I don’t want to do anything that’s gonna ruin that or the work we’re doing. It’s too important.” He chuckles. “I don’t know if you’ve heard this before but sex can make things a little complicated.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I might have picked that up on the street somewhere...”

  He pats my hand twice and rises off the bed. “It won’t happen again,” he says. “I promise. I just got a little fucked up over today is all.”

  I stand up slowly. “Okay…”

  We pause and stare at each other. My heart pounds. His Adam’s apple dips up and down. Stiff spines and piercing eyes.

  Jonah takes another step back. “I should go.”

  “Well…” I bite down, wanting anything but that. “You don’t have to go. We can work on the song if you want. We can’t play it for obvious reasons but I can show you what I’ve got for the second verse so far—”

  “No,” he says with the smallest shake of his head.

  “No?” I repeat, slightly wounded.

  He looks down. “Marla, if I stay… I’m going to break that promise I just made.”

  My heart stalls. His promise. His promise not to let that kiss happen again…

  “Why?”

  “Because…” his eyes close, “I wasn’t prepared for how good it would feel to kiss you. If I stay, I’ll do it again.”

  “Why?” I ask again.

  Jonah raises his head. “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?” he asks, his smile creeping up. “Marla, you’re amazing.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes. You’re strong and smart and getting to know you has been one of the highlights of my life.”

  My face screws up in confusion. “It has?”

  He stares at me with the same incredulous expression. “Yes.”

  “But I’m nobody. I’m not…”

  “Not what?”

  I hold back, hating the honesty of it even though I’ve said it about myself a thousand times. “Pretty…” I say.

  Jonah exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging as he does. “You’re right,” he says. “You’re not pretty. You’re beautiful and the fact that you can’t see it is officially my favorite part about you.”
r />   He closes the gap between us with one long stride. Before I can say another word, he kisses me again and I fall into a smothering silence. He holds me in place with one firm hand on my cheek and purposefully parts my lips with his own.

  Promise broken.

  Seventeen

  Marla

  Oh, my god.

  I kiss Jonah back. I totally fucking kiss him back, practically falling apart as I feel the gentle swipe of his tongue on mine. My brain shuts down, completely overloaded by this…

  This everything.

  He called me beautiful.

  He called me amazing.

  If he said it, it must be true, right?

  Jonah breaks our kiss but he doesn’t move back. “Dammit,” he whispers. “I should really go this time,” he says, his hand not moving an inch from my cheek.

  I tremble more with each breath. “Stay,” I whisper, surprising myself.

  Jonah’s eyes find mine, his pupils blown out like a predator on the hunt. “Are you sure?” he asks.

  Dear god, yes.

  I nod. “If you are…”

  He touches his forehead to mine. I sense the restraint in his fingers as they flex against my cheek, letting go of me one second only to hold on for dear life the next.

  Then, he laughs. Just once; a single, tender laugh that quakes my knees. “I’m not sure,” he says. “Christ, there’s not a reason in the world why this can’t happen but I can’t get over the part of me saying no. I don’t want to lose this.”

  “Lose what?” I ask.

  “The muse,” he whispers. “That spark in me that makes me wanna sing my heart out every time I look at you.”

  His arm curls around my back, pulling me against his taut chest. Our lips brush together again and I grip his biceps to keep my balance.

  “If I use you like every other girl, it could go away,” he says, his voice weak as a child’s. “I don’t want it to go away.”

  I shudder within the embrace of his arms. Heat pulses through every part of me, touching me in places yet to be touched.

  “Jonah,” I whisper.

  The square line of his jawline flexes. “Yeah?”

  I lick my lips. “What if it doesn’t?” I ask.