“I’m trying.”

“Good for you,” she says, swinging the door open, a not-so-subtle hint that it’s time for us to go. I suppose her tolerance is at an end. At least for the moment.

“Call me if you need me.”

“Maybe I will,” she says noncommittally. And just when I think that she’s so cool and casual that I want to slap her, she pleasantly surprises me. “Love you, Jethro.”

I can almost feel the exhale in Jet. And his fingers actually get tighter around mine as he leans forward to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Love you, too, Mom.”

She gives him a warm smile then turns it on me before she shoos us out the door and locks up behind us. Jet seems to walk a bit lighter down the walk than he walked up it a few hours earlier. I know this was huge for him. For his mother, too, I’m sure. But probably more for Jet.

I want to take him in my arms and hold him, but I know I can’t. I shouldn’t. So I just hold on to his hand a little tighter, hoping he’ll get what I’m saying without me having to open my mouth. And when he looks down at me as he’s opening the passenger side door, I know that he got it. Loud and clear.

* * *

Lucky’s is quite a bit different than the other venues where I’ve seen Jet play. There’s no backstage area for them to dress and await their show time. There’s no big crew of people there to coordinate everything. In fact, this is more like a few members of the crowd who just hop up on the small stage and sing to a bunch of their friends.

And I like it much better.

I can see a happiness in Jet that hasn’t been there at the other places. I can hear an ease in his voice, see a comfort in his body language, all telling me that he feels safe when he’s among friends.

And it probably doesn’t hurt that he had a good evening with his family. That seems to taint everything, for better or for worse.

Jet sat me at a table near the stage, telling me to stay put, that some friends of his would be joining me. But the show just started, and I’m still sitting alone.

Until the blonde shows up.

“You must be Violet,” the beautiful woman says.

“I am,” I reply, waiting for her to introduce herself.

She pulls up the chair closest to me and plunks down, glancing over her shoulder at someone. Finally, she turns her attention back to me. “Sorry. How rude of me! I’m Laney. Laney Theopolis.”

“Hi, Laney. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I hear you got to witness the heathens at play at my husband’s bachelor party.” She’s smiling like there’s an inside joke.

“Well, I was there. I don’t know how much I witnessed, though.”

“Oh, girl, don’t you worry about spilling the beans. Jake told me as soon as he got home.” She waves it off like no big deal. “Men!”

I only vaguely remember the others from that night. The one that hit on Tia is pretty clear in my head, but I can’t seem to recall Jake. Probably because all I could concentrate on was Jet.

It’s when Jake makes his way to the table and sits down that I very clearly remember him. He’s absolutely gorgeous!

“Nice to see you again,” he says, winking one amber eye and flashing me a breathtaking smile before he turns to kiss his wife on the lips. “They’re out of Sprite, but they’re sending someone across the street for a few.”

“Babe, you didn’t have to have them go out for some! I can drink something else.”

“Nope. Only the best for my wife,” he teases.

Laney beams at him. “Say it again.”

“Nope.”

She slaps his arm playfully. “Not that! The other part.”

“Only the best,” he says.

Laney eyes him in a mock threat. Finally he gives in with a look that could melt the coldest of hearts. “My wife.”

She sinks into him, and I think, for the moment, they have no idea who else is in the world with them, and I envy them their easy love. I don’t know exactly how long they’ve been married, but it couldn’t have been that long. A couple of weeks, maybe. But it’s plain to see that they are very much in love and destined to be together.

I turn my attention back to Jet where he’s finishing up a song. My heart does a little flip when his eyes meet mine and he winks at me. As handsome as Jake Theopolis is, he doesn’t hold a candle to Jet’s amazing good looks. In fact, he just doesn’t hold a candle to Jet, period.

When the stage lights dim and the music slows, I feel a flutter in my stomach. I love it when he sings the slow songs. In a way, it feels like he’s singing to me. Only to me. I know that’s hardly the case, but it’s easy to pretend.

As is his custom, Jet sits on the edge of the stage with his legs dangling over, his acoustic guitar cradled against his body. When he begins picking the notes to the song, I search for it somewhere in my memory, but it doesn’t even sound familiar. It’s beautiful, though. I’m sucked into it within a few bars.

When he begins to sing, his eyes find mine again and, once more, I feel as though he’s singing for me, to me. Only to me.

She crept in with the night, violet streaks on the wind.

She saw my soul, stole my heart, found the place where I’m a better man.

If I cared enough, I think I’d let her go.

Or do I care too much to ever leave her alone? (To leave her alone, leave her alone, leave her alo-one.)

It’s when he gets to the chorus that I realize that he is singing to me. And that he’s singing about me.

She pulls me down, takes me under, makes the noise of the world seem softer.

Touch her body, feel her lips, lose myself in her sweet, sweet kiss.

Drowning in violet, drowning in violet. Don’t pull me out, because I’m drowning in violet.

My heart is beating so heavily, I wonder that my chest hasn’t exploded from the pressure. And when the second verse begins, and I see the pain and worry in Jet’s eyes, I feel sure my ribs can’t take it.

Will she hate me when she knows?

Will she take her love and go?

But they do. As much as my heart swells and throbs and aches, it’s safe inside me. But how long can I keep it that way? How long before it’s no longer mine to keep safe, mine to keep at all?

I know the answer to that when the song ends and Jake leans forward in his seat, putting his head in my line of sight. “So you’re the one, huh?”

“Pardon?” I ask, still feeling dazed.

“You’re the one that finally got her claws in.”

I struggle to wrap my head around what he’s saying, what he means.

“You’re the one who finally got Jet Blevins’s heart. Sounds to me like that boy’s in love with you.”

And just like that, everything changes.

TWENTY-EIGHT: Jet

I sit with the phone in my lap, shocked and satisfied and excited as hell. I rerun the last ten minutes over in my head, like pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

The call came in as I was onstage. When the show ended, I came into the back room to listen to the message.

Back here, it’s basically just a lounge area for Lucky’s employees and the few bands that they ever host here. It’s nothing more than a bathroom, a small kitchenette, and a lunchroom-style table littered with packets of salt and sugar substitute and half-full ashtrays.

But all I needed was a chair and some quiet. To sit in while I listened to the message of a lifetime. Even as I digest what I heard, I feel the urge to replay it. Just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

I know I won’t be able to hang out for the rest of the night, acting casual around the other members of the band and some of my friends. No, I need to get the hell out of here and find a place to think. Really think.

After taking a couple of deep breaths, I make my way back out to the main bar area, to Violet where she’s sitting with Jake and Laney. The three of them have their heads together, talking about something, until one of them says something funny and they all laugh. Laney is facing me. It’s not hard to see why Jake fell for her. She’s a classically beautiful blonde. But when Violet turns in her chair, presumably to look for me, and her eyes stop on mine, I can barely remember what Laney looks like. And that scares the shit out of me. For several reasons, not the least of which is the way I’ve misled Violet. If she ever finds out, she’ll be out of my life so fast my head will spin. And I’m not ready to let her go just yet.

But that doesn’t make me feel any less shitty about the whole thing.

What the hell were you thinking, brother?

When I stop at the table, I hold her gaze for several seconds, enjoying the way she licks her lips nervously, and the way she seems like she wants to look shyly away, but can’t. Finally, I look up at Jake.

“Thanks for coming, man.”

“My pleasure. Laney hated every minute of it, though,” he teases.

Laney slaps his arm and smiles kindly up at me. “He’s lying through his pearly white teeth, Jet. Don’t you believe a word he says. You were amazing! And that slow song . . . what was that called? I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before,” she says.

“You haven’t,” is my only response.

“Oh,” is her only response, although the glance she sends Jake tells me that she suspects she knows what’s behind it. Or, rather, who.

“I’d love to stay, but I promised this beautiful woman a ride home,” I say, referring to Violet.

“We can stay as long as you want,” Violet says kindly.

“I’m ready if you are.” I don’t want to give some half-assed excuse or explanation in front of my friends. I respect them too much to treat them like they’re stupid.

“Well then, we can go. I just thought . . .” Violet trails off and, when I don’t offer to stay, she stands, grabbing her purse from the back of the chair and saying her good-byes to Jake and Laney. “It was so nice to meet you, Laney. And congratulations to you both on your wedding.”

“I wish we’d met you a little sooner and you could’ve come. We’d have made Jet here bring you,” Laney says, winking at me.

“I doubt any force would’ve been necessary,” Jake says, sliding me a knowing look.

I grunt and put my hand on the small of Violet’s back, giving Jake a nod before I go. “Talk to you next week, man.”

Jake nods back before he gives his new wife his full attention. I’m glad he moved back to Greenfield. I missed that crazy, firefighting bastard and I’m pleased to see him happy.

When we get to the car and Violet climbs inside, she looks up at me from the passenger seat. “We could’ve stayed, Jet. Really. I didn’t mind.”

“I know,” I tell her, bending down to whisper to her, “but there’s something I have to tell you.”

I see her mouth drop open and her eyes get wide. I wonder if she thinks I’m about to confess my undying love or something. I wink at her, not yet putting her out of her misery. A laugh bubbles in my chest as I walk around the front of the car.

I slide in behind the wheel, but I don’t move to start the car yet. I turn to face Violet.

“I just got a call from Kick Records. They want to hear some of my songs.”

“What?” she asks, surprised but visibly excited. “Jet, are you serious? What did they say?”

“They’re interested in a couple of my songs. They want to hear more. Said they’re looking for something fresh and they want me to give them a private demo.”

“Oh my gosh! When? Where?”

“Well, they’re out of California, which would be a bitch of a trip, but they’re opening an office down in New Orleans, so they’re willing to meet me there.”

“When?”

“This weekend.”

Even if I couldn’t see the pleasure on her face, I could tell she’s enthused. I can hear it in the pitch of her voice. “I’m so, so happy for you. Oh my gosh!” she says again, cupping her hands over her mouth.

Then she surprises me. With a shrill squeak, she flings herself against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing.

I hug her back, careful not to put my hands on her too much. At this point, that could be dangerous. This isn’t the place.

When she leans back, her face is shining. It looks like she’s every bit as happy for me as I am.

I can’t stop my own smile. “I knew I couldn’t stay in there one minute longer. I was about to bust, and I don’t want anyone to know yet.”

“I won’t say a word,” she promises, zipping her lips and pretending to throw away the key.

“Don’t lock ’em down yet,” I say, unable to keep my eyes from taking in her lush lips and remembering the way they taste. “I need them for a little while longer.”

Her face is serious now. Serious and hot.

“You do?”

I grit my teeth. I do, but not for what she’s thinking. Damn it! At least, not tonight.

“I do. I need an answer.”

“To what?”

“Look, I know it’s short notice, but would you want to come with me? I could really use the support.”

My conscience needles me a little. That’s not the real reason I’m asking. Well, maybe a small, microscopic portion of it. It will be nice to have her there. But there’s so much more to it than something professional. No, I want Violet to go for a whole laundry list of personal reasons, the biggest one being that I just can’t wait any longer to get her alone. Really alone. And all to myself.

“I’d love to,” she says, her smile tentative. Her response is quiet and shy, which makes the blood rush to my dick. It’s that whole hot librarian thing again. If I closed my eyes, I could easily picture her standing in her panties and a pair of chaste glasses, biting her fingertip, looking up at me with those incredible eyes, pretending to be all innocent, coy. Sexy as hell.