Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
I sit on the bed. What am I going to do with my girl, as King called Jenna? My cell pings with an incoming text, which I gratefully pick up.
LUKE
How’s it going, B? Think you’ll be ready to perform in front of thousands in 4 days?
Four days until I take the stage. How did the time disappear so fast? My hand rubs my thigh, and I look down. His implied ending echoes in my mind—please don’t make me reschedule at this late date. There’s really no choice.
It’s going great! I’ ll be ready.
Three dots pulse while he types a response. I’m too impatient to wait, so I click the telephone icon.
“I was typing my response.”
“You know me, Luke. You take too long to type.”
He chuckles. “Damn autocorrect is not my friend. So, rehab is going well, I take it?”
“Yeah. It’s hard, but I’m getting through. Already up to the intermediate exercises.”
“Sounds good. Don’t push yourself too hard, though. The band wants to start the tour as planned, but only if you’re ready.”
“I’ll be ready. Flare-ups still happen, but usually because I’m not being careful. So long as I don’t do something stupid again, I’ll be fine.” I hope.
“I’ve seen some footage online of you in the Hamptons,” Luke continues. “Has the PR team been good at handling everything?”
“For the most part, they’ve been on point. We did have to leave our respective houses, though.”
“What? Where are you guys now?”
“We’re in this huge mansion on the ocean that King and Angie Hunte showed us when we were trying to fool the reporters into believing I was looking for properties out here. Turns out the owners aren’t in town and said we could lay low here. It’s in a gated community with a long-ass driveway. No reporters allowed.”
“Sounds perfect.” He takes a breath. “So, you’re there with Jenna?”
“Yeah. You know what they were calling her. Her house was mobbed by reporters. She can’t go back there until I’m gone.” Even afterwards, I’m debating how safe she’ll be there. Maybe I should buy her this mansion, and she can move Faith in with her?
“Be careful, B.”
His warning is something I’ve told myself countless times. Still. “ We’re ducking the reporters like usual. The UC PR team is even getting a restraining order for her.”
“What’s going on between you two?”
That’s the million-dollar question. The way we kiss sets my blood on fire, but I’m not sharing this with Luke—we’re not “friends.” I play it off. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“When you answer my question with a question, I know the cocky lead singer of Untamed Coaster is getting in deep.”
How do I counter this? “She’s Darren’s girlfriend. She’s on the Do Not Fuck list.”
“Was,” he clarifies. “And Darren’s request died with him.”
I stare at the tray ceiling. “None of us would dare touch her.” Although I already have. My cock twitches wanting to again.
“I think Jenna’s a great woman. Smart. Talented at her job. Hell, she got Darren fixed up in no time. She’s working wonders with your injury too.”
“She is.” She’s remarkable. Funny. Smart.
“Do you like her?”
There it is. The question of the year. “Of course I like her,” I explode. “I shouldn’t. Can’t. Do.” Oh shit, did I just admit this out loud?
He sucks in his breath. “All right. This changes everything.”
“No,” I backtrack. “You got it wrong. She’s my physical therapist. Nothing more.”
He rattles, “I’ll need to prepare the guys. 007, especially, will have a hard time with this.”
The extent of my idiotic attraction to Jenna hits me between my eyes. “I won’t pursue her. It’s not fair to the band. Besides, I’m outta here in four days.” Still have ninety-six hours.
“It’s fine if you’re with her.”
“I’m not.”
“Just give me the word. I’ll need a heads-up to prepare the band.”
“Again. Not needed.”
“Didn’t have this on my bingo card. ”
“Luke, listen to me! We’re not together.” Why does saying this make my stomach punch in on itself?
“I got you, B. Listen, I should get going. Lots of details to tie up for the tour. Good luck with your physical therapy.” He pauses. “And your therapist.”
The line goes dead before I can refute his innuendo. Fuck. I toss my cell onto the bed as Jenna enters the suite.
“Hey there.” She’s back in her scrubs, with her hair in a ponytail, a chipper smile gracing her face. Too chipper.
If she knew what I was discussing with Luke, I’m sure she wouldn’t be so happy. Not going to ruin her mood, though. “Hi.” I stand. “Let me put on my shorts and I’ll be ready to start.”
“Perfect. I’ll set up in here while you change.”
I retreat into the huge closet, and slip my workout shorts up my hips. My shirt is tossed onto the carpet. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Jenna pauses in setting up the mat on the hardwood for me to do the towel exercises. She swallows before donning another sunny smile. Yes! She’s not immune. “Great.”
She adds more weight to my first round of exercises in order to increase the level of difficulty. It hits me like the heavy kettlebell. “Where did you get these weights and the mat?”
“Austin brought them over.”
The Asshole is here? No sooner than the thought enters my mind, than he saunters into the bedroom. My bedroom.
“Hi there, Bennett. Jenna asked me to bring over all the equipment you need for your rehab.” He drops a barbell onto the floor. It thuds.
“Great,” I reply, focusing on my exercises rather than Jenna’s work colleague.
I don’t pay attention when he walks over to her side and looks over her shoulder at her paperwork.
Refuse to raise an eyebrow when he makes her laugh at some stupid comment .
Will myself not to rip his arm off his body when he touches her forearm.
It’s when he corrects me, I lose it. “Jenna’s my therapist. What she says goes,” I snarl.
Jenna leaves whatever she was doing and comes over to us. “What’s going on here?” She seems befuddled.
What’s going on is the Asshole is sniffing around you and you’re mine . Do Not Fuck list be damned.
“I was giving him some pointers on the exercise,” the Asshole whines.
“I was doing it the way you taught me,” I counter.
“Oh. Bennett, would you mind doing another rep for me?”
I do the most perfect rep in the history or reps. No one could do it better.
The Asshole leans closer to her. My grip on the kettlebell tightens. He says, “I told him he should flex his foot for a better result.”
Jenna turns her body to face his. I’m right here! She reaches back and fiddles with her ponytail holder. “Austin, Bennett has a groin pull. To rehab this muscle”—she points to my upper thigh—“we want to elongate it. Which means what?”
His head drops. “You point the toes.”
“Correct. Now I do understand why you were thinking he should flex his foot for mobility, but that’s not our priority at the moment with him.”
“Ah, I understand now.”
Wow. She’s both teaching him and not putting his initial thoughts down. What a concept. No wonder the Asshole is like a little dog, lapping her up. Hell, I don’t know much about physical therapy, but I’m getting a bit of a woody from how she handled him.
Jenna touches my leg. “Good job, Bennett.”
I resist the urge to smirk at him. Barely. “Thanks.”
“Now, I want to try a new exercise with you.” She shows me a balance training exercise, which I mimic. After a couple of minor adjustments, I’m good to go. She continues to explain the exercise to the Asshole.
She should be working with patients. She’s amazing at it. Or she could be a professor, given how she’s teaching him shit in a dignified manner. Not an administrator. I need to get to the bottom of the mystery of why she left something she was born to do.
I move on to the towel squats, adding the barbell this time. I concentrate on the movements, taking them one step at a time. While I may not be fast—yet—I’ve got this. Once all my exercises are complete, I lie on the bed for the ice pack cooldown; I smile to myself. Ice Cooldown. Maybe this could be a new song title?
From the doorway, Jenna bids the Asshole a good evening. Because I want to be sure he leaves the mansion and doesn’t hide somewhere to kill me in my sleep—or seduce her in hers—I suggest, “Why don’t you show him out, Jenna? This place is huge, and we don’t want Austin to get lost in here.”
“Good idea,” she replies. “Let’s walk you to the front door.”
“See you soon, Bennett,” the Asshole says.
Not if I can help it. I raise my hand. “Bye.” Look how nice I can be.
When I no longer hear their low voices, I concentrate on the ice pack on my thigh. I loathe being incapacitated in any way, and this is wearing on me. I want to climb a rock wall with the band in New York City. Take the stage without worry my groin pull will flare. Feeling helpless does not sit well with me.
Jenna returns to my room. Alone. She sits on the edge of the bed, too far away from me. “Tell me about your upcoming concert.”
“It’s going to start our comeback tour. The movie actually launched us back into the public eye, so we’re going to capitalize on the hype. We’ll be on the road for more or less of the next year.”
“Wow. I didn’t realize the tour was going to be so long.”
“Platinum Records, our label, wants us to go all over the world to remind our fans who we are. ”
“As if they could forget you guys.” She removes the ice pack. “How’s it feel?”
“Cold.”
“Then it was doing its job. Want to explore the basement level? We never did get down there before.”
“Sounds like fun.”
She assists me off the bed. Even though I don’t need the help, I’m too much of a bastard to turn her down. She challenges me. Doesn’t let me get away with anything. Treats me like a regular human being. I don’t want to resist her any longer. The kisses we’ve shared haven’t been enough.
We walk to the elevator and take it all the way down and enter the enormous basement. The exercise room is the first thing we see. “Shit. This place is dope.”
“It is,” she agrees. Her fingers brush over the exercise bike and free weights. “Maybe we can move your rehab down here tomorrow?”
“Don’t see why not. I own this place, at least for the next four days.”
“I feel like a kid in the candy store. Let’s go see what else is down here.” She trots ahead of me, oohing and aahhing over the bowling alley. “Oh my goodness!”
Her exclamation brings me to her side. My eyes widen. “Arcade games.”
Without another word, Jenna runs to the Donkey Kong machine while I start the Asteroids Deluxe. We spend the next half-hour grunting and yelling and wailing and cheering.
She’s the first one to step back. Adjusting her ponytail, she says, “That was fun. I even made it to the bottom of the leaderboard.” She points to her name at the twentieth position.
I run my fingers through my hair. “My time at the arcade has paid off. I’m number seven.”
She giggles. “Impressive. The twelve-year-old inside you must be jumping for joy. ”
This. This right here is why Jenna’s so special. She can see the little boy I was—rather imagine me as an idealized version of him. I’m not merely the lead singer of Untamed Coaster, the unofficial leader of the band, or a rock star with all that entails. To her, I’m a regular guy. Another human being with a profession—not defined by it.
Do I think of myself outside of it?
When I’m performing, I’m in my element. I get a rush from taking the stage and singing UC’s songs, many of which have hit the top of the charts. Tons of perks follow this job, like money and chicks, tempered with the annoying media attention. But Jenna’s the first person to want to know who I am beneath all those trappings.
The walls surrounding my entire persona start to tumble. For the first time in a long while—since my high school girlfriend’s betrayal with my ex-best friend, since Dad died—I’m willing to allow her see who that man is. If there’s anything to see.
I walk over to her and run the back of my hand down her cheek. “Tween Bennett wouldn’t understand how insightful you are.”
Her hand covers mine. She swallows but remains silent.
I continue, “How do you do it? You see beneath the hood, beyond the rock star standing in front of you.”
Her arm falls, and mine follows. “You’re part of a band, a group of guys who play music together. That’s what you do, not who you are.”
My lids close at her profound statement. One I couldn’t have accepted a couple of years ago. When UC was at the top and Darren was still our keyboardist. After everything that’s gone down, now I think I’m able to believe her. But what happens if all that’s underneath is a black hole?
I open my eyes and stare into her grey ones. “What if there’s nothing there?”
My whispered words cause her to flinch. “There is. I’ve seen it with how you interact with the band. With Luke. With King and Angie.” She steps forward and taps my chest over my heart. “Beneath all the cocky attitude is a heart filled with so much love, ready to come out.”
This woman. I don’t know if she’s right, but I want to prove she’s not wrong. I want to be worthy of such a description. “Jenna.” I scan her face, from her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail to her unique scent of roses and vanilla to her features, unembellished by plastic surgeons or a ton of make-up. She possesses a rare, true beauty. It steals my breath away.
I stare at her capable fingers. “I hope you’re right.”
“Believe me, I am.”
She says this with so much conviction, I can almost believe her.
Time stands still.
I breathe her in.
Her phone blares. She checks her cell and murmurs, “I have to take this.”