He really was good looking. I noticed all the girls back at the compound flirting with him, and I hoped he’d actually take interest in one of them to take the pressure off me.
“If I were? What are you asking?”
“If you were ready to date, would you date me?”
My cheeks heated, and I turned and started walking again. “I don’t know, Richard, I honestly haven’t thought about it.”
“Do you find me attractive?”
“Oh my gosh. You’re really going to do this?” I laughed.
“I am. We’re friends, right? Answer the question. Do you find me attractive?”
I stopped again and studied him. “Obviously you’re attractive.”
He fist-pumped the sky, and we both started walking again.
“Do you find me intellectually stimulating?” He bumped my shoulder with his.
“Intellectually stimulating? How old are you?” I laughed. “And obviously you’re very intelligent. You did get the same score as me on your MCAT.”
“You saw my MCAT score?”
“Please. You laid it right in front of me. You wanted me to see it,” I teased, but it was the truth.
“Okay, fine. So, you’ve met your match intellectually. Do you like spending time with me?”
“Richard. Oh my gosh. Yes. Obviously. We’re friends,” I huffed, stumbling a bit on a rock.
He caught my forearm and helped steady me. “See. We’re practically dating now. We’ve got everything but the sex.”
I stopped and gasped. “What? We’ve never even kissed. We’re not dating. We’re friends.”
He leaned forward and kissed me. It was soft and sweet. I pulled away after a few seconds, just as his tongue tried to enter where it wasn’t welcome.
“No. We’re not doing this.” I stormed ahead of him.
“Don’t be like that, Jade. Are you going to try to say you didn’t feel anything? Because I did. I liked it. And I think you did, too. But you’re too guilt-ridden over a guy who doesn’t give two shits about you.”
I whipped around and he almost slammed into me. I pointed my finger in his face and hissed, “Don’t you dare talk about him. You know nothing about Cruz.”
I walked the rest of the way in silence. Was there truth in his words, even if he got it wrong. Was I afraid to like someone else? The kiss wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t anything like kissing Cruz. Nothing would ever compare.
But it was pleasant.
And pleasant wasn’t awful.
And most importantly, pleasant was safe.
Chapter Four
Cruz
We finished our set and I dropped down on a stool backstage after a long show. My voice was raspy, and my throat felt dry as I wiped my brow with the hem of my T-shirt.
“Nice job tonight, Cruz,” Luke said.
“Thanks. I think they like the new shit we tried out.” I’d written a lot of new music since coming back on tour.
Writing sober was different.
Raw.
Real.
And full of emotion.
“You’ve got a gift for songwriting,” Lennon said before he chugged a water.
“Says my brother.”
“Says someone who appreciates music,” he said, wrapping his arms around Bailey’s middle and resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Dude, I dig that last song,” Zach said as he dropped down on the couch beside Adam.
“Yeah, Lennon killed it with the music. It came out better than I expected. I still think you should start trying to sing a few.” I studied our newest member of the band. I wanted him to start singing as well, so I could transition out easier after this year. He could sing and play the electric guitar. The dude was beyond talented.
“Give me a few weeks to get my feet wet and let the crowd get used to me. I think they’d pelt me with tomatoes if I tried to step in your shoes right now,” Zach said with a laugh.
“Please. They’d pelt you with bras and panties.”
“Alright, we’ll give it a try at the next show. Maybe we can bust one out together.”
“Okay. I’m down for that,” I said.
“There’re a few chicks that want to meet up after the show. You want to put yourself back out there?” Zach asked. He was tame in comparison to how we’d all been when we’d first come on tour with the booze and the partying. He’d hooked up with a few chicks, but nothing like Dex.
“Nah, but thanks, dude. I’m going to chill tonight.”
The truth was, I had no interest in anyone but Jade. The connection I shared with her was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. There was something linking us. Something I couldn’t explain to anyone, including myself. And yeah, I’d fucked up really bad. But the one thing I could do to show her I’d changed, was to stay sober and to keep my dick in my pants. Sure, she’d told me multiple times to date. But for some reason it felt like a test. And this was one test that I wasn’t going to fail.
I asked her if she’d met anyone the last time we texted, six days ago, because she seemed so insistent that I date. She told me that she kissed someone. I wanted to kill the fucker. It wasn’t rational. We weren’t together. She’d been very clear about it. Hell, she wouldn’t communicate with me more than once a week at this point. I asked her if she wanted to date him, and she said she didn’t know. She didn’t know what she wanted. I couldn’t wait for her to get back home so I could see her. And touch her. And show her that I had my shit together now. That what happened before would never happen again.
We all went to get a late dinner, which was more like a midnight breakfast. Our trainer, Gio, traveled with us now, which was cool. I was working out more than I ever had before and feeling good.
I dropped my bag on the mat and took off to run a few laps around the gym. I knew the routine, and I liked it. Lennon, Adam, and Zach were also working out with Gio, but I preferred doing one-on-one sessions with him. No distractions.
He spent the next hour and a half kicking my ass with weights and drills. My legs were heavy, arms weak, and I felt fucking good. I loved pushing my body to the brink.
“Nice, Cruz. You want to do a few rounds in the ring today? They have a guy that needs a sparring partner. Want to try out these new skills of yours on an actual person?” Gio studied my reaction.
“Yeah, sure.”
He whistled over to another trainer and walked me toward the octagon. Gio was a badass. He lived by his own words and pushed himself as hard as he pushed his clients in the gym. His dark hair was short, in a buzz cut. He wore a ripped-up T-shirt with a colorful sleeve of tats decorating one arm. Oranges and reds and blues bleeding together, telling a story that only he knew. I’d admired his ink when we first met, and he said it was a reminder of where he’d been, and where he was now. I didn’t push it. The dude was intense, and I liked him. There was no bullshit where he was concerned.