24. Jace
JACE
All night, I sing my heart out to the girl in the fifth row, but Rory doesn’t look at me. She watches her phone as she records, checks on my daughter who’s strapped to her chest, and looks around like she’s afraid security is gonna boot her.
I don’t like it.
Fucking Marlowe.
I’ve been dodging her obvious flirtation every time I see her.
She dumped me, and now that she isn’t the center of my attention, she’s acting territorial.
Sure, she pretended that bumping into Rory was an accident, but I don’t buy it.
Not after seeing the gleam in Marlowe’s eyes as she watched that plate of pasta slide down Rory’s clothes.
Rory and I had just shared that incredible moment with Layla when she’d called me Dada, and I’d felt like the king of the world.
Then Marlowe screwed it all up.
Until tonight, Rory was enjoying the shows. I don’t know why it matters to me that she’s not having fun, but it does.
She’s changed out of her soiled clothes and washed the makeup off her face.
She’s sporting her glasses and one of her long dresses again.
She looks like she’s back to being the librarian of a small town.
Sweet and demure. Unassuming and a little unsure.
Smart and sometimes sarcastic. While she was stunning this evening when she showed up to dinner, I like this version too.
But I’m worried she’s rethinking this tour.
And while it would be a pain in the ass to find someone to help me with Layla, I’d be gutted if Rory left.
I can’t explain why I’m so drawn to her.
I know we don’t make sense on paper. I mean, the woman would rather read a book than go to a concert.
But there’s something about her that makes me want more than just a life on a tour bus.
I try to focus on the music, but my head is a mess. The whole set feels off. Cooper plays one song too fast and another too slow. Derek’s keyboards cut out at one point, and my in-ear monitors stop working, so I can’t hear myself.
When our show is over, everyone cheers, and I’m relieved it’s over. I look for Rory again, but she’s gone. Disappointment spears me. I know she hates crowds, and she probably took off as soon as the last note played. I was hoping to walk her back to the bus and make sure she was okay.
“Thank you, Daytona!” I shout into the mic. “We’re so grateful we got to play for you this week!”
Backstage, the guys are bitching at each other.
Cooper points at Derek. “What’s going on with you? You played like you were slogging through waist-high shit.”
“Fuck you, asshole. You’re the one who couldn’t pick a tempo.”
Shane drops down onto the couch in the green room. “Everyone crapped the bed tonight. No need to point fingers.”
He’s right. I hand him a beer, we clink bottles, and I sit next to him.
This is usually where I drop down to do push-ups, but I’m fucking tired and the one benefit is I’m not struggling with a hard-on.
“It was just an off night. Next show will be better.” Even though I agree with both Coop and Derek, there’s no sense in pissing either of them off.
Besides, Daytona is only the first stop. “We’ll get some rest and regroup.”
Frank opens the door. “VIP line, gentlemen. Let’s do some autographs.”
Everyone grumbles, but this is part of the job, so we follow him outside to a table with merch and a line of fans, who patiently wait behind a red velvet rope.
Here, we get the muted sounds of Marlowe’s band, which has taken the stage.
The smells of nearby taco trucks waft through the humid air, making my stomach grumble.
I pause to hug Susan. “Have I told you that you’re awesome?”
“Not recently,” she teases as she hands out t-shirts to our fans.
“Make sure you get vouchers from your husband so you’re not paying full price at the food trucks.”
“I’m already on it.” She winks.
Love her. Susan’s helped us so much over the years.
I’m about to sit with the guys when a woman runs over to me. “Jace, you were so good tonight,” she squeals. I barely have time to brace myself before she wraps her arms around my neck.
I look for Frank. He knows I prefer keeping fans on the other side of the signing table. I look around for him, but he’s busy talking.
To Rory.
Whose expression is even more remote than it was a little while ago. When our eyes meet, she turns away.
Fuck this.
I peel the woman off me. “Excuse me for a sec, guys.” I head straight to Rory. “Hey.”
“Hi,” she says quietly.
“Frank, can you give us a minute?”
He gives me that same paternal glare I get from Rhett when he disagrees with something I’ve done. “Fans are waiting for you.”
“I won’t be long.”
Frowning, he nods and moves a few feet over to the signing table.
My daughter is asleep in the stroller. I smile at her and turn to Rory, grabbing her hand. “Remember what I said earlier today? That I was telling everyone you’re my girlfriend?”
For the first time since the lasagna incident, she looks at me. “Yes.”
“I’d like to make an amendment to that.” Her eyes widen like I’m a snake about to bite her.
It annoys the fuck out of me. I cup her face and move until she has to tilt her head back.
I take in her beautiful face and long eyelashes and bow lips I wanna kiss.
“We should date for real.” She sputters and tries to move away, but she’s next to a pillar, so I walk her toward it and lean her against the concrete. “What could it hurt?”
She looks down. “You don’t want this, Jace. Not really.”
My attention snags on her wedding band that now sits on the wrong hand. We’ve been married for five minutes, but I really fucking hate that we have to hide… whatever it is we’re doing.
I gently turn her face so she has to look at me.
“Yes, really. I want to date you.” It’s been bothering me since we talked in bed the night before last. “I might not know where I’ll be at the end of the summer, and you might not know where your next job will come from, but so what?
We’re here together, so let’s make the most of it.
If we gel well now, maybe we can figure out the future when the tour ends. ”
When she doesn’t say anything, I move closer until I can run my nose against hers. “What do you say, Aurora? Can I date my wife? Would that be okay with you?”
She struggles not to laugh. “Well, when you say it like that…”
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? But who cares? It’s our crazy, and I’m down for this if you are.”
Her beautiful smile returns, and just like that, my bad mood disappears. She runs her finger over my collarbone. “I’d like to be your girlfriend. If you’re sure.”
“I’m really fucking sure.” I thread my fingers through her soft hair, tilt her head back, and graze her lips. Once, twice, three times, before her arms wrap around my neck, and she kisses me back.
Fuck, yes.
All is right with the world.