Jesse's Girl - Page 41/81

“Come this way,” I say, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward a towering oak tree at the edge of the property. It’s swallowed in darkness where we can be alone. Jesse presses me up against the bark, the force stealing my breath away.

He nuzzles his cheek to mine and murmurs, “What are we doing?”

“I’m not sure.” I run my fingertips along his strong jaw, unable to keep my hands off him, and I guess that’s all the encouragement he needs.

He nudges a knee between mine, threads a hand through my hair. He takes his time, slowly peppering my throat and cheek with kisses. Making my knees weak, making my breath catch. I steady myself by wrapping my arms around his neck as our lips meet again.

The encore blows the first kiss out of the water. His body melts against mine, and his lips feel so soft, his breath warm, his hands strong as they glide over my sides and settle to grip my hips. I kiss the freckles on his face, trying not to miss any.

“You’re so sexy. Your nose stud drives me crazy,” he mumbles, and the pleasure of his words makes me kiss him harder. “I’d ask if we could do this inside, but your brother’s kinda scary.”

“It’s probably better that we stay out here anyway.”

“Oh yeah? Why?” He dives in for another long kiss.

I come up for air. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

“You’d take advantage of me, huh?” I can feel him smiling as he kisses me. “Maybe we can hang out again soon?” he asks.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

His lips trail along my neck. “Concert in Atlanta.”

I slip my fingers inside the waistband of his jeans, right behind the skull belt buckle, and pull him hard against me. “Atlanta’s not far. I could drive down to see you—I’ll sit backstage. That’d be so fun.”

Suddenly he pulls away from me. He furrows his eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, pressing a hand to my heart, trying to slow it down.

“You want to come backstage? Why?”

“To be near you.” I move to take his hand, but he shoves it into his pocket.

“This was stupid.”

My heart practically stops. “What?”

“You don’t actually like me, right? You just want to come to my concert and sit backstage. You’re shadowing me and want a record deal.”

“Jesse, that’s not it at all.”

“Stacey did shit like this. She always wanted to come backstage, but she only cared about being seen with me. Only cared about what I could get her.”

“I don’t care about that at all. I just want to be around you.” I reach to take his hand, but he steps back, wincing like when I first met him. What in the world?

“But why do you want to be near me? ’Cause I’m famous? Because the press was all over you today?”

“You’re funny, and you’re interesting. You’re a great musician… I can’t stand country music, but I guess I can deal with a shortcoming or two.” I grin. “You’re cute as hell. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?”

“You said I’m not your type.”

My smile disappears. I feel the blood drain from my face. He doesn’t trust me. After we spent a day telling each other our secrets and dreams, he still doesn’t trust me.

A truck zooms up on the road, getting closer and closer, its white lights blinding me momentarily until it disappears into the night.

“And you’re thinking the worst of me,” I say. “Comparing me to Stacey—which is insulting by the way—and pushing me away, ’cause that’s what you do, right? So you can be alone.”

He glares. “You should try it. Going solo. It’s better that way.”

I lean back against the tree’s rough bark so I won’t slip to the ground. Why did I let him kiss me? It’s like being betrayed by Nate all over again, only a million times worse. Kissing Jesse was totally different. I felt that spark, the one everybody talks about. But on top of that, I told Jesse all my secrets, I let him in, and he’s ditching me already. Why is it that as soon as I place my faith in others, trust disappears in a second?

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Jesse,” I say with a shaky voice. “I don’t need or want anything from you.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, either…it’s just that you and me? We’d never work out.”

“We haven’t even tried to be fr—”