14. Jason
14
[Jordan added Ford to the group chat]
Ford: What’s up bitches!
Jason: Who had the bright idea to add this tool to the group chat?
Jordan: Shut up, Jay. You love him.
Jason: I’m disowning you.
Jordan: You’ll regret that when I’m a music making superstar.
Ford: Yo, tell me what I need to do to make Jason’s grumpy ass more bearable because I can’t look at him sulking any fucking longer.
Jensen: Get him drunk?
Bodi: Take him surfing?
Hunter: Get him pussy?
Ford: Pussy is the reason he’s sulking LOL.
You realize I’m part of this conversation, right?
Ford: I know, it makes it even more fun.
Jason: Middle Finger Emoji
Bodi: Hang on, what pussy?
Jensen: Are you holding out on us, Jason?
Jordan: It’s Julie.
Jason: Traitor.
Hunter: What about her?
Ford: Didn’t he tell you about her being my NVS representative? They are working together.
Jensen: No way.
Ford: Way.
“Will you fucking get off your phone and get to fucking work?” I yank Ford’s dressing room open, met by a smirk from ear-to-ear.
“You don’t have to be so rude, Jason.” Julie brushes past me into the room with a roll of her eyes, her vanilla scent almost knocking me off my feet.
I didn't know she was right behind me.
I’ve been avoiding her, because the alternative is staring at her all day and, fuck me, that just tests my resolve with how sexy she looks.
She is wearing a black pantsuit that makes her look like a goddamn badass, but it’s the tight crop top that shows a peek of her smooth skin that keeps pushing me over the edge. That, and the come fuck me heels that make her almost match my height she has been prancing in all day.
She looks in control, and in charge, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“We’re ready for you to shoot the last scene.” Julie slides her manicured hands in her pocket, giving Ford a warm smile.
They are silver today and it annoys me as much as it makes me smile, because it means she woke up this morning, ready to kick ass.
Ford tilts his head, his hazel eyes flirty. “Just one minute, sweetheart. I’m just finishing up here.”
He dives back into his phone, and Julie takes the moment to face me.
Her big brown eyes have the same color of the whiskey I’m dying to pour myself, piercing through my soul with a disappointed look.
“Did you mean what you said on the phone last week?” The sadness in her voice feels like poison down my throat, my chest pulsing in agony.
“What do you mean?”
“That you don’t wanna fight me?”
What do I tell her? That I don’t wanna fight her, but I don’t know what else to do? That I have to fight her because it’s the only thing that stops me from wanting to kiss her? That fighting with her is as close as I can get without giving myself a heart attack?
I rub my hand over my face, trying to break eye contact, but her gaze never drops from mine. “Yeah, I meant it.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
Because looking at you is equivalent to torture.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
She levels me with a challenging look.
“I’m not,” I grit out, as my phone keeps vibrating in my hand.
Hunter: Oh, this is gonna be fun.
Ford: I know, right? So what do I do?
Jensen: I’m sticking to get him drunk. Drunk people always speak the truth.
Jordan: Speaking from experience, Jensen?
Jensen: Damn straight.
Hunter: I second that.
Ford: Get him fucked. Got it. Then what?
Bodi: Exposure.
Ford: What does that mean?
Bodi: Three words; club, dancing, drinking.
Ford: I love the way you’re thinking.
Jordan: Let me know which bar!
Ford: Thumbs up
I flip my gaze to the shit-eating grin of Ford, who drops his phone on the vanity desk beside him, his ankle resting on his knee. “We’re going out.”
“We are not going out.”
Going to a club and getting wasted in the state I’m in right now is asking for disaster. Going to a club sober in the state I’m in is aiming for destruction.
I’m not going.
Ford flicks his attention to the blonde who’s sole goal of existence is to drive me to the drink of restraint.
“What do you say, Miss Bradford?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, tightening his white NVS t-shirt. “Let’s celebrate a working day gone well and have drinks. Maybe do a little dancing?”
He licks his lips, wiggling like an idiot in the plastic chair.
She belts out a laugh at his ridiculous behavior, and the sound does funny things to my body. Things I don’t want anything to do with. I expect her to flirt with Ford to get on my nerves, but she focuses her attention my way again.
“You’re not avoiding me, right?”
I purse my lips, taken aback by the animated eyes she’s giving me. “No.”
“Great,” she beams, holding my gaze. “We’re going out.”
What?
She faces Ford. “Let’s get this over with so we can have some fun.”
“Hell yeah!” He jumps up, giving me a daring smirk as he strolls past me like the cat that caught the canary.
“We’re not going,” I grunt.
“Yeah, we are.” Ford leaves the room, and I’m left with Julie studying me.
Goosebumps trail up my arms like a marching band, following the path of her eyes moving up and down my body until they hold my gaze with a playful glint.
“Put your money where your mouth is, Jason.”
I want to stay mad at her, but staring at this powerful woman in front of me, keeping me on my toes, I just can’t. She’s got me backed in a corner and she’s loving every minute of it. But the kicker? So am I.
I’ve always had a thing for the Julie who’s strong, independent, challenging. For the woman who is in control when she’s selling a house, and the woman who doesn’t wait for shit to come to her. She’s hardworking and makes shit happen.
That’s the woman who challenges me, just because she can.
I fold my arms in front of my chest, biting back a grin.
“We’re not going out,” I say, just for the hell of it.
Her pouty pink lips stretch before she licks them.
Seductive. Slow. Sensual.
Goddamn.
She steps in front of me, our chests almost touching. Bambi eyes peer up at me from below thick lashes, and my gaze drops to her mouth. They are soft, so tempting, and I’m wondering if she still tastes like peaches if I kiss her.
My heart thumps in my ribcage like sneakers in a washing machine, palms tingling to pull her against me. She leans in and, for a split second, I think she’s going to kiss me. But then she moves past my jaw, until her breath tickles my ear, and I shut my eyes simultaneously.
“I wasn’t asking.” She pats my chest condescendingly, then slips out of my space and out the room.
The air grows colder the second she’s gone, and my lungs start functioning again.
I stand there for a hot minute, both stunned and grinning from ear-to-ear.
She’s back.
“Great job today, Ford,” Julie says above the music in the club.
Setting her Manhattan back on the table, she licks her pink lips with a level of seduction that’s so natural…it’s fucking killing me.
She leans into the red leather of the booth we’re all crowding in, Ford on my right, Jordan on my left and Julie across the table from Ford.
Her brown embers twinkle at Ford underneath the strobe lights, my heart tapping between irritation and admiration. One minute, my chest wants to expand just looking at her, and the other, it feels rock hard, watching her shoot sweet glances at Ford and Jordan for no fucking reason.
That’s a lie. I have reasons.
Three, to be exact. One, she threw out her black blazer the second we secured ourselves a table in the back. Two, her white crop top shows that sexy stomach I’ve been dying to lick all day. Three, it brings out the swell of her breasts, highlighting that perfect cleavage I want to bury my nose in.
It’s fucking sadistic. She’s sadistic.
I shift on the bench, thankful there’s a table top covering the bulge in my jeans, because I need a lot more liquor in my veins before I can take comments from these two dicks about it.
“Do I get brownie points?” Ford’s eyebrows wiggle up and down from above his beer, some of the condensation on the glass dripping onto his gray t-shirt.
My shoulders turn to steel.
“No, you don’t,” I snap, hoping looks can kill.
The only thing that can make this night feel even more like I’m standing in the middle of a bonfire, burning and aching, is Ford acting like he actually stands a chance with Julie.
Three sets of eyes glance at me with three different expressions. Tone it down, you’re so jealous, and you’re so busted.
You figure out which one is which, but they all annoy me like a mosquito that keeps buzzing in my ear. Loud. Whining.
“He’s right, though.” Julie nods, briefly meeting my gaze with…something sweet? “We pay you enough zeros to deliver.”
My eyebrows meet in the middle, my chest doing that swelling thing again. Hold on, she’s agreeing with me?
“Oh, wait, really?” A crooked grin forms on Ford’s dark lips, and he mirrors Julie’s stance, then flips his finger between the two of us. “This shit is thawing between the two of you? You ganging up on me?”
She lets out a snort mixed with a chuckle that heats up my insides, and it’s goddamn adorable. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re a tad dramatic?”
“Never,” Ford says, at the same time I reply with, “All the time,” followed by Jordan’s, “Every day.”
“Shit,” he drawls, gripping his heart.
“You are all ganging up on me. I thought we were bonding.” He rests his bulky forearms on the table, tilting his puppy eyes to Julie while Jordan’s chuckle flies in my ear.
“Your head doesn’t need to grow any more.” I give him my two cents.
“At least it’s prettier than yours. Don’t you think, Jules?”
“Jules?” I huff, fisting my hand around the beer in front of me, taking a gulp to swallow my annoyance away. “You’re calling her Jules now?”
It’s ridiculous how much he can tick me off just by talking to the blonde who’s sitting way too close and not close enough at the same time. With Hunter and Jensen living on the East Coast, my time is mostly spent with Jordan and Ford. Usually, I have no issues being his wingman. I might enjoy it a little less when he’s doing shit that I, as his agent, need to clean up the next day, but other than that, I’d say I’m a solid wingman.
This is different, though. This is my life he’s fucking with. Now it feels like he’s after something that’s mine.
Shit , do I really mean that?
“He can call me Jules.” Her lashes flutter, dropping my heart all the way to the devil’s den, and I take another big gulp. “And yes, you're a very pretty boy.”
That little…
I don’t miss how the mischief in her gaze is illuminated by the flashy lights when she locks them with mine, a satisfied smirk ghosting her lips.
I press my lips together, breathing in through my nose to keep my jaw as slack as possible.
I see what she’s doing.
Focusing on her, I dare her to keep pushing me. She carefully brings her glass to her lips, sipping the liquid while her eyes never leave mine. They widen with something burning, wild, and a level of lust that reminds me of that night she was standing in my hotel room like a dream.
The light of the moon shining on her silky hair, part of her naked body cascaded by the shadows of the night. She was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
It’s forever etched in my brain like a tattoo, and as she swallows slowly, I know she remembers it too. Her lips part, her shallow breaths barely visible in the dim light of the club.
But I see it.
Feel it.
“I’m going dancing!” She jumps up, not waiting for a reply, then darts to the dance floor as if her sexy pants are on fire.
“Did you hear that?” Ford smirks. “She thinks I’m pretty.”
Jordan stifles a laugh, finishing the last of his beer, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “She also called you a boy .”
“So?”
“Julie dates older. Not younger.” I tear my attention away from Julie’s curves holding me captive like a siren.
“Is that a rule?” Ford pulls a face, finding Julie dancing her heart out.
Her hair bounces around her face, her hips doing all kinds of shit I’d love to see naked.
“Not set in stone, but definitely unwritten. Why’d you think she dated Jacob?” Jordan explains.
“You’re the same age as she is.” Ford throws his hand in my direction, and I shrug.
“Couple months older. Besides, we never dated.”
Saying it out loud feels weird, but so does labeling it any other way. We have all this history, a decade of feelings, yet we were never really anything .
My eyes are drawn back to her as I snapshot this sight of her in my brain. How her eyes are hooded as if she’s becoming one with the rhythm. How her skin glistens underneath the pulsing lights. How the people around her fade, like she’s just a figment of a dream.
“Yeah, well…” Ford’s voice turns me to face him.
“Well, what?” I frown, glancing at Jordan in question.
He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, then meets Ford’s laid-back smirk. “Oh, damn. Someone’s looking for trouble.”
Ford slowly gets up, leveling me with a challenging expression. “I think she’ll break that rule for me. I’m going dancing.”
I have never wondered what it feels like to have someone's neck in your palms and to just squeeze. I bet it would feel glorious.
“Unless…you have something you need to get off your chest? Maybe a little confession to make? A claim to stake? No?” Eyebrows up and a questioning look, he waits for an answer that will never come.
Jordan’s shoulders shake beside me, his grin hidden behind his hand while Ford chuckles.
“Alright, order me another one and a shot of tequila when that pretty brunette gets back.”
“What are you doing, Ford?” Jordan laughs, half pleading, half encouraging the motherfucker.
Ford grabs his halfway filled glass of beer, then knocks it back like it’s water before slamming it back on the wooden top. “Spending some time with a pretty blonde.”
He takes off, charming Julie with each rhythmic step he takes closer, and my heart wants to rattle in its cage with every passing beat as my jaw tenses like cement.
“You wanna rip his head off, don’t you?”“What, no,” I say, never diverting my gaze from the two people moving in sync five yards away. “I wanna do more than that.”
It’s taking every bit of my weight to stay rooted where I am and not tear Ford’s hands off her body as he guides their hips to the base. To not jump up and act like a possessive asshole when my entire instinct comes alive like a roaring tiger.
My heart beats like a freight train and all I want to do is make it stop or make it crash.
Jordan clears his throat, and I snap out of my daze, bringing my glass to my lips and meeting his accusing eyes.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
He laughs. A full-humor, you-are-crazy-and-I’m-not laugh, then the asshole steals my beer and gulps it down like Ford did.
Fucking toddlers. Both of them.
“Stop torturing yourself.” He slides the empty glass to the middle, then lifts his hand to motion to the server that we need another round. “Brother, I’m gonna say this just once.” He leans toward me, aiming his blue eyes at the two pain in my asses on the dance floor. “You see that flicker of her eye pointed this way, every couple of seconds?”
Ford stands behind her, hands on her hips and grinding his groin against her ass. Julie’s face is partially covered by her now messy hair, but then I notice her eyes peeking through. They lock with mine, filled with full-blown seduction softening her expression. It’s quick. It’s fleeting.
A week ago, it wouldn’t have been more than a way to get my anger through the roof. But then she does it again. And again.
Jordan moves close to my side. “She doesn’t want him, Jason.”
I turn to face him, a you-know-I’m-right expression coming my way. When I flip my gaze back, it’s as if I’ve called her name, and she’s staring at me directly this time. He’s right.
“I know I’m right,” Jordan says, as if he can read my mind. “Stop torturing yourself.”
I keep staring at her, doubting, but the doubt is sucked away when Ford pushes her hair to the side and exposes her neck as if he has every intention to mark her skin with a kiss.
But my feet act quicker than my brain can keep up.
Over my dead body.