Chapter 5
Chapter Five
HENDRIX
Zara Valentine.
If there’s one person I didn’t expect to run into tonight, it’s definitely her.
This is not her scene. Or at least, it wasn’t. The Zara I knew wore cardigans two sizes too big and spent way too much time in the school library. That Zara was relentless and pushy and drove me fucking nuts for an entire semester.
I cannot believe I just offered this girl sex for tutoring.
Who does that?
I also can’t believe she didn’t kick me out of the library for it.
I definitely would have deserved it. I stare at her as she flips through my textbook, marking several chapters and then writing a few notes on a legal pad.
A strand of hair slips out of her braid, and I have to stop myself from reaching out and tucking it behind her ear.
I do not need another reason for her to hate me.
And I really need this tutoring.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do, Jimi.” She smirks, sliding over what appears to be a game plan for the first few weeks of the semester.
“Sticking with Jimi, huh?”
“Maybe I am. Worried you can’t live up to your namesake?”
I bark out a laugh. “Oh, I know I can’t. That man is a legend.”
Her smirk turns into a full-blown smile, and the sight of it makes my heart rate double. “Bring back an A on your first quiz, and I’ll reconsider.”
“Deal. But you’re stuck with Cupid either way.”
I not only scored an A on that first quiz, but managed to pull an A for the whole damn semester. Considering I bombed the class the first time around, it was a goddamn miracle.
She was a goddamn miracle.
And now, she is standing in Edwin’s master bedroom with me.
I slam the door behind us.
“What the hell?” She looks up at me, her eyes wide.
“Sorry,” I say. “Panicked. Didn’t want to be caught near the scene of the crime.” Of course, now I’d inadvertently put myself back at the scene of the crime.
With a witness.
This is so dumb. I should have just walked out like I planned. The moment I stepped up to the grand entrance of Edwin’s mini-mansion, I knew this was a mistake. But I charged ahead anyway, and less than two steps into the entryway, I heard his stupid fucking laugh and panicked.
What was I thinking?
Was I really going to storm into his engagement party, filled with all of his fancy ass friends and family, and do what? Brag that I finally scored a temporary gig on a tour with my best friend’s band?
He would laugh in my damn face.
So I turned around and bolted, but not before I made a quick detour back to my car and snuck back in here for a bit of revenge work.
After all, he’s the one with a house so wide open that any asshole could waltz right in.
Tonight, I’m that asshole.
“Why—” Her words are cut off, and her eyes widen as she takes a wide look at the room.
“Yeah, that.”
“Oh my god. What have you done?” Her voice is a mixture of awe and horror. Honestly, I get it. I feel the same way as I take it all in.
I may have gone a bit overboard. But I’m petty as fuck.
“Okay, so I might have discovered Edwin’s fiancée is a bit of a Manic at Midnight fan,” I tell her as I awkwardly shove my hands into my pockets.
“And so you decided to do…this?” She gestures toward the gaudy display of Manic memorabilia. “Where did you even get all this stuff?”
There’s the T-shirt Zander signed. That’s honestly what started this whole shitshow. While he was digging through boxes in his cluttered office to find one, I started pulling out random swag he’d received—beer koozies, posters, hats—and had an awful idea.
A lot of women love the band. Well, they mostly love Asher. But still…
Just a few minutes on Instagram, and I had my answer. Miss Leann soon-to-be Eaton is a total Manic Fanatic.
Yup, that is indeed what the fans call themselves.
“My best friend is the lead guitarist,” I tell her, pointing to the poster I haphazardly stuck on the wall. “And I did it to piss Edwin off.” I shrug, still unsure why she’s even at this party. Not that I’m complaining.
Her eyes drift over to the T-shirt of Z, sweaty and shirtless on the front—signed, of course.
Just when I’m about to say something, though I’m not sure what, I hear a laugh.
It starts out quiet, almost a snort, and then Zara Valentine is practically doubled over in that skin-tight dress, cracking the fuck up.
My shoulders sag in relief as she looks up at me in amusement. “Wow, you were not kidding. You really aren’t friends anymore, are you?”
“Nope.”
“So why are you here, then? Aside from the obvious?” She makes a sweeping gesture with her hand.
“A little payback, I guess. Are you going to tell on me?” It comes off as playful, just as I intended.
She smiles, and damn. Seeing her like this after all this time is somewhat jarring. After graduation, I always thought she’d be at some prestigious hospital, married to a super-smart neurosurgeon. I never expected to run into her at Edwin’s outlandish place in Brentwood.
“Depends,” she answers.
“On?”
She leans against the bedroom door, and I take the opportunity to let my gaze wander.
Again. Zara has always been a stunner. Even in college, when she tried to hide behind bulky sweaters and quick comebacks, she was irresistible to me.
It was irritating, to be honest, mostly because she seemed completely immune to my good looks and witty banter.
“Will you let me hide in here with you for a bit?”
Well, this just got a little more interesting. “Sure, but who are we hiding from?”
Her head drops back against the door with a soft thud as she lets out a deep exhale. “My husband.”
My eyes dart to her left ring finger. The one I scoped out moments ago. Right before I checked out her tits. And her ass. Yep, still no ring. “Husband?” And then I realized where we were and who we were with. “Wait, who are you married to?”
She hesitates. Her lips press together before she finally replies, “Not important, actually.”
“Not important?”
She shakes her head, her dark-brown hair brushing her bare shoulders. “Nope, because as of last week, he’s actually my ex-husband. Still getting used to saying that.”
I cock my head to the side and stare. “Is that how you ended up at this party with him then? ’Cause you forgot you divorced this mystery ex-husband?” Or is she still in love with him? An unexpected surge of jealousy hits me square in the chest.
Where the fuck did that come from?
“No, but he’s not ready to admit it to his douchey friends. So he brought me to save face.”
The relief I feel is…unexpected. I rub my chest, feeling a dull ache between my ribs. I used to have a thing for my hot tutor back in college, but that was ages ago. “I’m sorry. No wonder you were fleeing down the hall.”
“I wasn’t—” She starts to say, but then relents. “Okay, yeah. I definitely was.”
My mouth curves into a smile. “They’re literally the worst, aren’t they? Edwin by himself was decent back then, but as a group?” I fake a shudder, causing her to laugh.
“They compared cufflinks. I stood there for twenty minutes while they inspected each other’s heirloom cufflinks. Did you know Drew’s family jeweler has crafted pieces for the royal family?”
“Wow, what a bunch of pretentious twats. No wonder you need me to rescue you.”
“Hey, I didn’t say anything about rescuing,” she argues. “I just need a place to—”
“Disappear?”
“Yes.”
“What if, instead of staying here and running the risk of getting caught, we just left?”
“Together?” The way she says the word makes me think of her and me and all the things we could do…together.
And now I’m half hard. Because once there was a time when all I thought of was the things that woman and I could do together.
Is tonight my second chance?
“Sure, unless you want to stay…”
“Nope.”
I grin. “All right then, Cupid. Let’s get out of here.”