WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Smoking, Marijuana, Cocaine, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Mentions of Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Violence, Manipulation, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Physical Fighting, Blood and more...
Another fantastic project written in collaboration with my bestie @gretavanmoon.
Black Sheep Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify
11:24. Perfect.
You slip your Blackberry back into your purse, trying your best to ignore the never-ending string of missed phone calls inviting you out for drinks or to brunch tomorrow morning. You don’t care about those people. Fuck, all they want is to use you for your status. You’re hot, you get it. You’d want to end up in the tabloids next to you, too. Get chased by paparazzi all night, end up in the back of a limo with the next Video Vixen popping champagne bottles while Jay-Z blasts from the speakers. All for the thrill. All for the attention. But not enough for you to give them the time of day.
Anyway, the night is young.
You're already drunk when it really starts. You’d left the party uptown, the vibes less than thrilling. Everyone believing they are too cool to dance, and too bored not to gossip about each other. Now you’re crossing the city toward another one, chasing the next high before this one dares to fade.
The doorman here doesn't ask your name. He doesn't have to. He just presses the elevator button and steps aside as you glide past him, a hot mess of leopard print and stilettos. The mirrored walls of the elevator catch you from every angle, multiplying your reflection into infinity. A silk slip dress clings to your body, silver in the low light, the lace tracing up your thighs like a ribbon of smoke. An oversized fur coat hangs off your shoulders, acting more as an accessory than providing actual warmth. You don’t need that. That’s what the alcohol is for.
You pull your red lipstick from your bag and drag it over your lips before topping it off with a layer of glitter gloss. You’ve done this a thousand times, in backseats and bathrooms and hallways that reek of money and lies. Your eyes, glassy and sharp, flicker up to meet your reflection. You smile at yourself, a lazy, dangerous smile. You pull your flask from your bag, tilting up the last bit of it to warm your lips before getting to your destination.
The elevator dings and the doors open into the penthouse where music bleeds from the crowded corridor. It’s some sort of hazy electronic music that is sleek and hypnotic, only adding to the buzz from your three shots of Grey Goose at the last spot. The sound of the bass makes the room seem expensive. Warm golden light spills over the marble floors as laughter and clinking glasses carries through the hall.
You step out into it all. The noise, the people, the bodies and the heat. You know most of these people, and they know you. You drift through the penthouse doors, the pulse of the music washing over you. The crowd parts almost automatically, some with smiles, and some with annoyance. They’ve seen this all before. The way you move, the way you probably laugh too loud, the way your heels announce your presence. You don’t even have to look around to see who’s watching you. You just know that they are. You can feel it. Every whisper, every sideways glance feeds the need inside you.
Your father has funded your every whim. It’s as if Manhattan itself bends in your presence, but tonight, it feels like you’ve earned the attention yourself. The space, the eyes, the fascination.
The penthouse is a jungle of velvet and chrome and warm lighting. Champagne sweats in crystal flutes as laughter bounces off the high ceilings. Some wannabe socialite bumps into your arm, barely apologizing, and still you smile. Your coat slips off your shoulders, now falling to your elbows, revealing more silk than should be legal. You can feel the new eyes on you, and you love it.
Yet, there is still a sliver of emptiness inside you. You’ve been to enough parties to know this game. Everyone is performing. Everyone is pretending, and you’re the only one allowed to forget. To feel. Only it’s not a feeling. It's the haze of someone who’s never wanted for anything until right now.
As you pull a glass of bubbly from the table, someone brushes past and murmurs something that meant to hurt you. You don’t hear it clearly, but your body tenses before your brain catches up. A sarcastic laugh leaves your lips.
“Careful,” you warn, “I bite when provoked.”
And maybe you do. Maybe tonight is going to be the night that everyone realizes that the pretty girl in the silk and fur is untouchable. Or maybe she's just a mess. Either way, it doesn't matter. This city is cold and huge and the music is heavy, and you’re alive in a way that feels dangerously good.
You weave through the crowd with your crystal flute raised, smiles thrown around carelessly with words that are half mean and half flirty. The adrenaline of the alcohol is sharpening your movements in a way that makes you feel lethal. You glance down at the champagne in your hand and take a sip, letting it burn all the way down. You're dizzy, sure, but steady enough. For now anyway.
You’re here for something special, and like magic it appears. You spot him near the balcony, leaning against the railing like he owns the place, though both of you know he doesn't. A quick glance around tells you no one is paying attention right now, and that's exactly what you want.
“Bradley,” you purr, sliding your hand into his arm as you brush past. “Bathroom?”
He grins, a cocky smile plastered to his face as he nods. “You know the way.”
The hallway is dim, the thrum of the bass fading behind you as you slip past the velvet ropes and a few drunk party goers. The bathroom door closes with a solid click, shutting out the noise and chaos behind it. Inside it’s tight, nearly suffocating in a messed up luxurious way. Marble counters and chrome fixtures, the faint metallic scent of an expensive cleaning service.
After making sure you’re alone, you shrug off your coat, letting it fall to the floor. Your dress clings to you and you're mildly aware of how the fabric feels against your skin. Barely there.
Bradley quickly produces a mirror and a line. Your heart beats fast, more from thrill than anything. He supplies you with a rolled hundred and you bend over, inhale sharply, and then it hits. A spark behind your eyes, the shiver that runs down your spine, the room growing sharper. You lean back against the counter, letting the heat run through you and for a few seconds you feel absolutely in control.
“Fuck, you look good, Y/N,” he murmurs, voice low.
You smirk, brushing your damp hair away from your forehead. “That’s the whole point.”
He laughs, leaning in close. You catch the faintest whiff of his cologne and you bite your lip, pretending you don't feel the tension between the two of you tightening.
“Don’t get too crazy,” he teases. “Get back out there, or you’ll ruin all the fun.”
“Mmm,” you reply, running your hands under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “Isn’t that sometimes the point?”
He laughs, his hands resting on your hips. “God, you really think you’re irresistible, don’t you?”
You lean in close, letting your black painted nails gently rake along his exposed chest. “No baby, I know I am.”
You laugh a little too loud and back away from him with a wink, smoothing your dress back into place. You grab your coat, placing it low on your arms. You pull your lipstick from your purse again and check your nose in the mirror, making sure the evidence is long gone. The rush from the bump mixes with the alcohol and suddenly you feel infinite. As if the penthouse, the city, even the night itself exists just for your enjoyment.
“You’re impossible, Y/N,” Bradley sighs, adjusting himself in his pants.
“You worry too much B,” you say, sliding past him toward the door. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
The hallway swallows you again. You pull your fur back over your shoulders, letting it sway with each step. You step back onto the penthouse floor, your heels clicking against the marble floors. Faces turn and whispers ripple through the crowd, soft at first but growing louder. There she is, look at her. God she's always like this. How sad. You smile and let them talk. These people have watched your entire life play out in magazines, on TMZ, and in the murmurings of every bored rich housewife who thinks they matter in this city.
A waiter approaches with another tray of champagne flutes. You take one, swirling the bubbles and letting them spill over the rim of the glass.
“Careful princess…”
The remark comes from Georgia Bingham Kerry, a fellow heiress, finding her fortune in the Heinz company. You laugh softly, definitely loud enough for her to hear as you twirl your glass more.
“Careful? Doesn’t sound like me,” you quip.
She scoffs, “Maybe if you tried–”
“Maybe if I tried what?” you cut her off with a tilt of your head. “Being like you? Sad? Miserable? Boring?”
You flick your wrist and champagne flies through the air, landing perfectly on her last season Dior pumps. Gasps fill the room and Bradley steps back, wide-eyed.
“Y/N! What the fuck? Calm down!” he shouts in panic.
“Calm down?” you repeat, your voice rising.
Your adrenaline is pumping, the bump from earlier still tingling along your spine. You move toward the balcony, brushing past a waiter who raises a hand in protest. “Maybe–”
“Maybe not!” you snap, spinning on your heel, silk and fur flying.
And then, someone, a dumb, drunk older man, dares to whisper loud enough for you to hear. She’s ruining the night again. What a surprise.
Red flares in your chest. You lunge, shoving at him lightly at first, just enough to make your anger palpable. He stumbles back, startled, and the world shifts. Your elbow catches the edge of a nearby pedestal holding a piece of art. A sculpture you recognize as worth more than most of the partygoers’ yearly salaries. It teeters, then crashes to the floor in a shower of glass and twisted metal.
Gasps ripple across the room. Security freezes, shocked. Someone yells. Champagne flutes topple as the crowd parts, staring. You laugh. A high, jagged laugh, and look down at the ruin beneath your feet. It should sting. It should scare you. But the rush of it all, the bump still humming through your veins, the chaos…it makes your heart beat faster, makes you feel alive.
You push past a waiter who steps in to block you leaving, your fur coat slipping from your shoulders. The music feels distant now, replaced by whispers, sharp words slicing through the gilded air.
And then the sound you knew was coming. A door banging open, sirens slicing through the low hum of the party. Red and blue lights wash over marble, over broken glass, over the silk clinging to your skin.
Suddenly cold metal bites down on your wrists. You laugh, breathless, somewhere between too aware and not aware enough. Handcuffs.
“Oh this is rich,” you bite. “Really, this is rich.”
“Ma’am, if you just cooperate, this will be a lot easier on us all,” the officer bites nonchalantly after reciting your rights.
“I am cooperating,” you slur, your hair falling over your face. You’re nearly bent over the hood of the police car before you realize the crowd gathering around you. You take the opportunity, putting on a photo-worthy face before turning back toward the officer. “Actually could you maybe tighten them? Would make it a little more fun for me…”
The officer scoffs and pulls you by your arms to stand again.
Paparazzi outside on the sidewalk fire relentlessly, capturing you in your barely there dress, everything nearly exposed forever in permanent pixels. The back of a police car swallows you whole. Darkness presses in, and the city that was so alive just for you merely moments ago, disappears completely.
Happy fucking New Year.
—
It’s not the sweet smell of coffee brewing or the hand of last night’s hookup gently caressing you awake, but instead, it’s the shrill beeping of your Blackberry relentlessly buzzing on your nightstand. Your eyes open, one then the other, still thick and crusted with last night’s eyeliner and glitter mascara. You pull up on your elbows, glancing at the digital clock on the table. “Only fucking noon…” you mutter, rolling over to your back to punch a fist to your phone to shut it up.
You lie on your back in the pool of bright white down comforters and feather pillows, wishing like hell that you could just stay here all day. But you’ve never been one to be stationary, and your tired muscles are already begging you to get up.
Sunlight slices through the floor-to-ceiling windows of your Manhattan apartment, sharp and cold against your skin, catching in the crystal of your chandelier before scattering across the marble floors. Your head pounds in rhythm with some distant echo of bass from last night, every heartbeat a reminder of the alcohol swirling in your veins that’s sure to bring a day-long migraine. Your dress is still clinging to you, the fabric twisted tightly around your body. The fur coat you abandoned last night is somewhere in a corner, limp and lifeless.
Your wrists ache, tender and raw. You lift your hands to them, squinting at the faint impressions of the metal that haven't quite faded yet. Flashes of the night crawl in snippets through your mind. The drugs, the alcohol, the sculpture, the flash of cameras and the cops cuffing you. You swallow, throat dry, and groan, dragging yourself off the bed to wobble out of bed.
Your phone continues to buzz, friends sending text after text alerting you of the occurrences of last night. Pixelated photos of tabloids fly in, one after the other.
‘Heiress Arrested Before Clock Could Strike 12’
‘New Year, New Her? Not This Time’
‘Drunk & Disorderly - Hello 2004’
“Boo-fucking-hoo, the melodrama,” you groan in disappointment, but it doesn’t linger long. This is the life you have chosen, and you’re not going to change. You toss your phone into your purse that thankfully made it home with you before meandering, slowly, out into your living room.
Your apartment is nearly a study in luxury. Marble everywhere, the floor, counters, even the window sills. The faint aroma of your Christian Dior perfume lingers in the air, mixed with the bitter tang of spilled alcohol and wasted cigarettes, as the city streets below crawl with taxis. The windows stretch across the living room, revealing Manhattan in all of its frozen glory. Plush rugs and velvet chairs are scattered around and somewhere, a crystal vase leans just slightly against a wall, evidence of a rowdy evening.
Then, the quiet is broken. Your father is there, sitting on the couch with the same cold precision he's always had. He’s impeccably dressed, of course, and his eyes are calculating and sharp, burning with what you know is anger. You freeze.
“Morning, Daddy,” you mumble, your voice rough as you head for the coffee pot.
He doesn't smile. “Morning?” His tone is pure venom. “Do you have any idea the chaos you caused last night?”
“Oh my god, don’t overreact,” you snap, “It was a party Dad. People spill things, yell, and get drunk. That’s just…life.”
“No, this is not life. This is reckless, dangerous, and humiliating. I am done cleaning up your messes.” His eyes bore into yours. “Do you know you destroyed a $3 million piece of art last night?”
You shrug. “They shouldn’t have had something so expensive just out there in the open.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I spent last night bailing you out of jail instead of ringing in the New Year. And I’ve spent the entire morning paying off reporters, and buying images to protect this family. I have had enough. You are twenty-three years old, Y/N. I am going to give you one last chance. One last chance to straighten up, or–” he pauses, “You are out. No more apartment, no more money, no more connections. You make one more headline, cause one more…disaster, and you’re on your own. No questions asked.”
Your stomach drops. “You’re bluffing.”
“I am not,” he says coldly, “You’re an adult now. I have been lenient long enough. Either you start behaving or you deal with the consequences yourself. This stops now. And I mean right now, young lady.”
“Stops?” you huff, throwing your arms out.”I’m an heiress, Daddy, you can’t just take my entire life away–”
“I can. And I will, if you don’t clean up this act. No more discussion. It stops.”
You huff, crossing your arms as you pout. “And how exactly do you plan to stop me?”
He shakes his head and lifts his cellphone to his ear. “Send him in.”
The click of your apartment door unlocks a new tension in your chest, then a man enters. Calm, deliberate, and impossibly composed. His navy blue suit perfectly tailored, his long brown hair pulled tightly back into a slick bun, his eyes sharp as he scans the room, before locking on you.
“Who the fuck are you?” you demand, tilting your head to the side.
“This is Jacob,” your father says. “Your bodyguard. Effective immediately.”
“Excuse me?!” you shout, your voice echoing off the marble flooring.
“Since you insist upon acting like a child, he will treat you like one. Every move you make will now be monitored. Nothing happens without him, and nothing goes unreported,” he continues.
“Oh my god, just what I always wanted, my own hall monitor,” you scoff.
Jacob steps forward slightly, and for the first time you get a real look at him. His eyes are unreadable, dark, steady and detached. He doesn't flinch at your tone, he doesn't even bother to glance at your bare legs or the way the strap of your dress is slipping from your shoulder.
“I will report directly to your father, Miss Y/N,” he says, the tone of his voice unreadable. But you have to admit, the way he says your name makes your stomach cave for a split second.
Your eyes narrow, ignoring the feeling. “Is that so?”
He nods once, “I take my job very seriously.”
Your pulse spikes, “You think you get to just walk into my apartment and start bossing me around?”
“I don’t think.” He takes a deliberate step closer, close enough for you to catch the faint trace of his cologne. “I know.”
You roll your eyes, attempting nonchalance, though something in your chest tightens. “You’re what– just going to follow me around everywhere? Stand outside bathroom doors? Guard my champagne glass? Daddy, this is so ridiculous!”
“If that's what it takes to keep you from doing something reckless,” the man says evenly, “Then yes.”
Your father’s phone buzzes with a call. He glances at the screen and sighs, already halfway out the door. “Jacob, I’ll leave her to you. Make sure she sobers up. We will discuss the rest later today. No drugs.”
“Dad–” you start, but he's already gone. The click of the door feels…final.
The silence that follows stretches heavy, nearly suffocating you. Jacob doesn't move from where he’s standing. His hands are tied neatly behind his back, and his gaze is unflinching. He is still, just watching you.
You exhale a shaky laugh, “So now what, babysitter?”
“You can start,” he says, voice firm, “by sitting down.”
You lift a brow, “Excuse me?”
“Sit. Down.”
Something about the way he says it makes you obey before you realize it. You perch on the edge of your leather couch, seething as you cross your legs and arms.
He studies you for a moment, then pulls out his phone and types something. Probably reporting back already.
You lean forward, your voice like honey. “You know,” you say, tugging your dress up just a little more, exposing more of your bare thigh, “most men would kill to be in your position.”
He finally looks up from his blackberry, eyes flicking briefly over you, not lingering, just assessing, and somehow that almost feels worse.
“I’m not most men.”
“Clearly,” you mutter, “You hate fun.”
He gives a faint, humourless smile, “I’m not here to have fun. I’m here to make sure you don't ruin your life or your father’s, before lunch.”
Your throat goes dry, “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Not yet,” he slides his phone back into his pocket. “But I will.”
There’s authority in the way he says it, so certain, that it leaves you almost speechless.
You finally find your voice, almost yelling now, “You can’t just– watch me… Follow me around and control me.”
His eyes meet yours cold, and sharp as a blade. “I can. And I will. That's what you’ve been reduced to, princess. Observation.”
The words hit like a slap. You stand quickly, jaw tight, desperate to reclaim some power in this situation. “You’re insane. You and my father. You’re like a fucking robot or something.”
He doesn't blink, “And you’re a liability.”
For a moment you just stare at each other, your pulse racing. For the first time in your life, someone doesn't flinch when you raise your voice. Doesn't shrink under your anger. Doesn't care who you are or what you have.
And that alone is enough to terrify you.
Jake steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he watches you scowl at him. “Your purse,” he says, voice low and steady. “Bring it here.”
You stare at him like he's lost his mind. “What?”
He holds his hand out, wiggling his middle two fingers. “Your purse. Now.”
You raise a brow, tilting your head, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “And what? You going to check it for contraband?”
He doesn't flinch, “Exactly that,” he says calmly. “Give it to me.”
You scoff, fumbling slightly with your hands and you go and grab it from the chair it ended up on last night. “This is out of control.”
He takes it from you in one smooth motion, flipping it open as if he is inspecting evidence. His eyes sweep over the contents as he dumps it out onto the marble countertop. A small bag of powder, a pack of cigarettes, two tubes of lipstick, a lip gloss, a pack of Orbit gum, your phone, and a bottle of Xanax. His eyes lift to yours slowly.
“You do realize none of this is safe, right?” his tone is pointed.
“Uh– it’s prescribed,” you lie, trying to mask your panic. “My doctor–”
He cuts you off, voice calm but sharp as glass. “What doctor, exactly?”
You stammer, making up a name that even feels fake as you say it out loud. He arches one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I–uh–I mean, it’s–”
He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I don’t buy it. Say goodbye.”
Your stomach twists. “You can’t just– give that back!” you shout.
“I just did,” he says, “Consider it gone.”
Your hands fly towards him, “No! Give it–”
His hand closes around your wrist. Firm and unyielding. You should pull away, but the warmth of his skin sears into yours. Your breath catches for reasons you refuse to name.
“No,” he says, “You will not touch this again. Do you understand me?”
You yank at your wrist, frustrated. “You’re insane! This is my life! You can’t just take–”
“I did,” he interrupts, “And you’re going to learn to deal with it. You need boundaries. It is clear to me that you have none.”
“Boundaries?!” you scoff.
He steps closer, and suddenly the small space between you feels electric. “Yes. Boundaries. Rules. Limits. Call them whatever you want, sweetheart. You don’t run your life anymore. I do.”
You flare your nostrils, trying to sound believable. “And if I refuse?”
“Do you want to find out?” he says softly, almost mocking. As if he is daring you to push him further.
Your eyes narrow as you press your lips together.
“I’m here to make sure you don’t humiliate yourself or your father, ever again.”
You snatch your Blackberry off the counter. “Fine, but I’m keeping this!”
He slides his hand around yours as you reach for it, smooth and fast, and lifts the phone. “Wait,” he says, dialing a number and letting the phone ring once before hanging up. His phone buzzes in his pocket and you realize he’s called himself. “I’ll keep your line active. For now. Don’t make me regret it.”
You yank the phone back, storming to your bedroom. “You can’t do this to me! I am a grown adult!”
“Watch me,” he says, simply, letting his words land like a punch.
You snarl, glaring at him as you realize that you’re losing grip on your own life.
“You’re angry,” he says, “Good. You should be. You need someone who won’t let you continue to make mistakes. I am that someone.”
You spin, storming down the hallway to your bedroom. “I’m going to shower, asshole! You gonna follow me in there too?”
His lips twitch, but he doesn't answer. You slam your bedroom door with a hard satisfying rattle, the sound echoing through the spacious apartment. And behind that door your chest heaves, your pulse racing. Your fingers tremble with a mix of fury, fear and something else that shakes you to your core.
Something you’ve never felt with anyone before now.
And the worst part is that it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels inevitable.
WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Smoking, Marijuana, Cocaine, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Mentions of Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Violence, Manipulation, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Physical Fighting, Blood and more...
Another fantastic project written in collaboration with my bestie @gretavanmoon.
WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES: 18+ MINORS DNI - Alcohol, Smoking, Marijuana, Cocaine, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Mentions of Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Violence, Manipulation, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Death, Physical Fighting, Blood and more...
Another fantastic project written in collaboration with my bestie @gretavanmoon.
[NEW YORK CITY, NY] – Sources from Manhattan’s social and financial circles report that a prominent young socialite has once again become the center of attention following a string of late-night outings and activities that some observers describe as questionable at best and reckless at worst. Insiders say the socialite’s behavior in recent weeks appears increasingly impulsive, poorly judged, and far from the decorum traditionally expected of her family’s standing.
According to multiple eyewitnesses, recent appearances at exclusive private parties and high-profile venues have sparked a mixture of fascination and concern among her peers. “It’s the kind of conduct that makes people whisper,” said one anonymous source. “Her charm and connections are undeniable, but there’s no denying that her choices have left some wondering whether glamour alone can cover repeated lapses in judgment.”
While the socialite has not publicly addressed the mounting speculation, those close to the family reportedly worry about potential repercussions. Not only for her own reputation but for the carefully curated image of her household. Observers note that the combination of secrecy, indulgence, and apparent disregard for consequences has already generated considerable chatter within Manhattan’s elite social circles.
In a particularly dramatic incident, the socialite was reportedly seen leaving a penthouse in the Upper East Side late last night, just hours before a heated altercation at The Penrose Bar, according to sources. Though the details remain unconfirmed, the event has only added fuel to the speculation surrounding her recent behavior.
As the story continues to develop, social and business insiders alike are closely monitoring the situation. The public is left to question: How long can appearances mask behavior that insiders describe as reckless, indulgent, and potentially damaging? And what impact will these repeated controversies have on the socialite’s standing among New York’s elite?
[Photo Caption: “Y/N leaving an exclusive Upper East Side Penthouse last night — reportedly hours before an altercation at The Penrose Bar.”]
[Photo Credit: X19 Online]
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
JAKE POV
You absentmindedly swirl the skinny black straw around in your glass, scoffing to yourself as you wonder why the bartender put a stirrer into your Whiskey in the first place. It didn’t need to be stirred. You took it straight. It was fine on its own. Regardless, you sipped around the straw, letting the oaky liquor trickle down the back of your throat.
It wasn’t that you hated flying. It was more that you hated being alone with your thoughts for extended periods of time. Only your phone or a book to occupy your brain, but you knew that only worked for so long. Eventually you’d be left alone to tumble down into those dark, dusty memories that would torment you until you touched down in whatever city you were slated to be in that day.
You hear Josh’s voice, instinctively causing you to turn your head, watching as he and Daniel stand in front of the camera recording whatever video the social media team planned for the day. You gracefully bowed out of that process all together, the team knowing not to approach you about an idea unless they knew it was something you would agree to. Usually though, it wasn’t. You turn to look at Sam on your right, seeing his gaze fixed upon the two of them. Both of you were now watching them as they played along with the skit, a huff of secondhand embarrassment sizzling through you as you sip from your glass. You’d never be caught dead doing that.
Fools. How is anyone ever supposed to take us seriously if all we show them is this?
“You ready for another few months of this shit?” you mumble, your lips barely parting from the edge of your glass.
Sam snickers as he turns back to you. “No. But that’s the job isn’t it?” he answers, swallowing down a gulp of beer, turning to look at you.
“I’m hitting that wall, too.” you answer, meeting the eyes of his girlfriend, Lyla. She sends you a sympathetic look as she squeezes Sam’s arm, giving him the little bit of reassurance he needs. “S’been a shit few weeks.”
Sam doesn’t say anything, instead pursing his lips together and slowly nodding his head as he peers down into his empty glass. Everyone knows better than to indulge you in your misery at this point, vowing not to pick at the festering wound. It’s still fresh and you’re still too volatile.
“Well, we’re going to your happy place, right?” Lyla asks with a hopeful smile.
“Yeah, yeah we are,” you answer, taking another long pull of Whiskey. It was clear she didn’t know the reason it made you happy in the first place was because of the memories you made there with the person no longer around.
You turn your head ready to fall into those memories you’ve been pushing away for weeks, but fate has other plans as you spot your production team walking towards the boarding gate. They look frantic as they talk to each other, their eyes flicking up and down from their phones in their hands. Paul, your band Manager leads the group, finally slipping his phone into his pocket as he spots the gate. Next to him is Corrine, the Production Manager talking on the phone, balancing it between her ear and shoulder as she follows Paul. Wes, the Tour Manager continues to talk to Paul as they step into the waiting area, but behind him is someone you don’t recognize.
She’s looking down at her phone, unaware that Wes has come to an abrupt stop in front of her. She runs into him just enough that it gets his attention, a profuse apology falling from her mouth. You laugh a little at the exchange, wondering who this girl is, and why she is with your team. She’s dressed like the rest of them, casual, but still comfortable for a day of travel. A slouchy white long sleeve shirt, a little too thin for the cold January weather, a brown leather backpack, worn and well loved, and a pair of olive green pants that hug her ass just a little too well for 10AM on a Thursday morning. You find yourself unable to pull your eyes away from her, a magnetizing feeling sucking you in the longer you look at her. She laughs with Wes, a bright smile lighting up her face causing an unwelcome twinge in your chest. It’s when she fully turns though, allowing you to see her whole face through the curtain of tousled waves, that you find yourself needing to know who she is.
You swallow nervously, licking your bottom lip as you turn to Sam. “Who uh, who’s that?” you ask, nodding towards the group. “With Paul, Wes, and Corri?”
Sam turns around in his barstool, looking across the busy walkway to the group standing at the gate. “Oh, um…” he pauses, assessing the situation. “She’s with Paul, so that must be our new runner.”
“What happened to Lucy?” you ask, letting your eyes drift back to the mystery girl.
“She got engaged and moved to Scotland or some shit, I don’t remember. Ask Josh,” he laughs.
You hum, trying to remember the email thread where Paul’s new assistant was approved. What was her name…
“You know her name?” Lyla asks, looking at Sam.
Yes, Lyla. Yes.
“Um, I think it’s….Y/N. Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” he answers confidently, snapping his fingers as he speaks.
“So she’s the new Lucy…” you hum, flipping your sunglasses down over your eyes.
“Guess so. We’ll see if she can hack it,” he laughs, sliding his card to the bartender.
You turn back to look at her, this time your eyes concealed. She is rocking back and forth on her feet, looking around as she hugs her arms across her chest. She seems nervous, pushing her hair behind her ears every few minutes. You’re positively taken by her, unable to peel your eyes away from her every move. You can’t help but study her, and you briefly wonder if it's the alcohol rushing through your brain that has you so focused on her.
The gate agents’ voice blaring through the intercom system snaps you from your thoughts, announcing that your flight was ready to begin boarding. You look to Sam, who is signing the check, and nod your head in silent agreement that you should head over. You toss back the rest of your Whiskey, letting out a sigh as it warms your chest. You grab your black leather backpack and sling it over your shoulders, straightening out your shirt before following Sam across the walkway to the gate. With your glasses still down, you step into the waiting area, watching people line up around you.
Josh, Ty, Mia, and Daniel appear behind you, startling you a bit as you fumble around in your pocket for your boarding pass. Their conversation is loud and grating, but you tune them out. You check your seat assignment as you move forward in the line, repeating it in your head over and over so you don’t forget it. You try not to pay attention to the pretty mystery girl five people ahead of you, but you just can’t seem to take your eyes off of her. You watch her disappear down the jet bridge as she talks to Paul, and before you can even register it, it’s your turn and the gate agent is scanning your ticket. She sends you on your way with a smile, and as you make the long walk to the plane you wonder if the girl in the green pants is going to make this tour just a little bit more interesting.
—
HER POV
3E. 3E. 3E.
Your eyes scan the row of numbers at the top of the cabin, finally catching sight of your assigned seat. You slide into the aisle seat, tossing your backpack to the floor as you let out a sigh of relief. You made it in one piece. You weren’t late, and everyone seemed to like you so far.
You take a look around you, admiring the plush seats and ample legroom. You’d never flown first class before. You felt a little out of place as you looked at the people around you. Thankfully it was filled with team members you knew, and the band members and their partners, but still you knew you didn’t belong up here. You kicked your bag beneath the seat in front of you, pulling your shirt sleeves over your hands before reaching up to adjust the air vents that were blowing far too hard. A small shiver left your body as you spun the vents closed, sitting back comfortably in your seat as you waited to see who your seat partner would be.
Your phone buzzed on your lap, a text from your best friend lighting up your screen.
Ruth
10:57am: How many hours is the flight again?
You smile as you quickly text back, running the numbers in your head.
You
10:58am: I don’t know, like 7 or 8 hours? You’ll be fine. Read a book or something. I’ll text you when I get there. But it will be late…or early? I think? There is a big time difference.
Ruth
10:59am: Ok, be careful.
You lock your phone and shove it under your leg, your eyes darting to the aisle as more people pass you on their way to their seats. You couldn’t believe your first leg of tour with them was taking you across Europe, allowing you to see places you’d only dreamed about. It wasn’t the job you were worried about, you could do that in your sleep. It was the uncertainty of being in another country with people you didn’t really know.
Getting to know the bands you worked for was a precarious thing. Always walking the thin line between friend and employee. You knew your place though, and you knew where that boundary lied. Your eyes refocus as someone stops in front of you, dropping their hands. As you look up you see Jake, one of the band members staring back at you.
“I’m…right there,” he says, gently pointing to the seat next to you.
“Oh, right here?” you ask, genuinely curious how you were seated next to a band member and not with a crew member.
“3F? That’s what this says…” he asks, checking his boarding pass. You nod and stand, letting him slide into the seat. He drops his leather backpack to the ground with a thud, letting out a sigh of relief, much in the same way you had.
You resettle in your own seat, buckling your seatbelt and pulling it tight across your lap. Your heart is still pounding as you try to calm your nerves, suddenly feeling put on the spot next to your boss. Or– your boss's boss. Shit.
You realize that you know practically nothing about this band, about its members, and really even much of their music beyond their hits. You planned to spend most of this flight acquainting yourself with them, learning their likes and dislikes before making a fool out of yourself in front of them in the green room. You don’t know if you should speak to him, and truthfully you’re a little hesitant since that day at the office, catching him and Josh in an argument.
You didn’t even know they would be there as you went in to sign your paperwork, but to your surprise they were, standing in the middle of the office playing around on instruments and talking. You made a beeline straight for the management office, mostly unseen, and quickly signed your paperwork. Paul went over some of the timelines and the things you would be responsible for as you took detailed notes on your phone, not wanting to miss a single thing.
Though, all of that came to a screeching halt as the sound of a chair skidding forcefully across the concrete floors pulled you both from your conversation. From your seat you watched through the small office door as two men moved towards each other, while two more intervened to break up whatever was about to happen.
You then learned from Paul that the two people that were arguing were the twins, Jake and Josh, and that the other two were their younger brother Sam, and their honorary brother Daniel. You observed in shock as the two of them shouted profanities at each other from either side of the piano, both red faced and worked up over something.
Paul quickly walked you out the front door with an apology and a laugh, and that was the last you saw of the band and its members, until today.
Out of the corner of your eye, you try to get a good look at him without him noticing. First impressions have always been a big deal to you, and since your first impression of him was nothing short of off-putting, you decide to try again. Give him the benefit of the doubt.
Worn-in black pants, cuffed at the ankle, a wrinkled beige button up that only conceals half his torso, a thick dark navy overcoat, and a stack of heavy silver necklaces. Oh, and blue-tinted sunglasses. His cologne… now that will be sticking around in your mind for a while. Clean, woodsy, a hint of musk but still kind of sweet.
You hear him clear his throat as he fidgets with his things, putting them all in their places as he finally settles into his seat. He reaches down into his black leather bag that appears to be well-loved, and pulls out a set of wired earbuds. They’re tangled and bunched, and you can’t help but smirk as you watch him try to untangle them. His fingers pull through the twisted white wires, and before you can offer your help, he reluctantly tosses them back down on top of his unzipped bag. “Fuck it,” you hear him mumble under his breath. He huffs again and leans back, tapping his fingers anxiously on his arm rests.
You let yourself drift back into your own thought as the plane takes off, going over the hundreds of miniscule things you know you’ll have to accomplish as soon as the plane lands. It’s quiet in first class, something you aren't used to with flying on the regular. The peacefulness that comes along with the drone of the plane and the light conversation between everyone is almost enough to help you relax a little, if not for the damned cool air still blowing through the vent above you.
You shiver a little, cuffing your hands over the ends of your shirt to pull it in more closely to your body. Why you had chosen to forgo a heavier jacket in the middle of winter, you truly don’t know. You decide to distract yourself a little, pulling up the string of endless emails that lie in waiting on your phone, getting a nice head-start on your duties before you have to hit the ground running.
Jake has been sitting beside you quietly for about an hour now, alternating scrolling his phone every few minutes and looking out his window. The cloud cover is heavy, so being able to see even a glimpse of the ocean below you is a lost cause. You listen as he sighs, crossing one of his legs over the other and folding his hands in his lap.
Should you strike up conversation? No, he probably doesn’t care to speak to you. But is it rude not to? You’ve already been sitting here for over an hour…
Just as you decide to open your mouth to speak, the plane hits turbulence. The cabin shakes and rumbles, and you can feel your stomach fall. Your hands grip the arm rests with white knuckles as the plane passes through, your eyes gripping shut as tightly as your palms on the arm rests.
Finally, after what feels like forever the plane evens out again, and you hear the pilot come over the intercom to apologize. You finally let the breath you were holding free from your lungs, and you open your eyes to see Jake with his head leaned low in front of you.
“You okay?” he asks, an eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just…don’t really enjoy this part much.” you admit, running your sweaty palms over your pants.
He sits back in his seat once he notices your calmness return. “Me neither, to be honest. No matter how many times you hit turbulence on a plane, you never get used to it. I don’t care what people say.” he says with a sweet smile. You can tell that he was coming down from an anxious episode just the same as you.
“No joke…” you agree, suddenly wanting a drink even if it was before noon. You push the tiny hairs away from your face as you regain a hold on your bearings, picking up right where you had left off before the turbulent air sent you into a spiral of doom. “I–I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before, my name’s–”
“Y/N.” he cut in, extending the tips of his fingers out to offer you a friendly handshake.
You let your hand slowly come up to meet his, suddenly uncaring that it was probably still clammy. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.”
For the five seconds your bodies connect, and the even shorter few seconds that his honey brown eyes meet yours, you feel like you were worried for nothing. This guy is nice. Maybe he’ll be easier to talk to than you thought…
His hand disconnects and flies to his chest. “I’m Jake.”
You nod. Of course you already know his name. “Yeah, um…guitar. Right?”
He smiles harder this time. “Yup. That’s my forte, at least. Have you um, ever been to Europe?” He brushes his hand over his nose a few times as his eyes dart back and forth from the seat behind you and back to your face, unable to hold eye contact. Is he nervous?
You turn your body a little more toward him. “No, actually. This is my first time. But I hear good things…”
“Oh shit, you’re gonna love it. Especially this time of year. Things move pretty fast when we get there, but we always try to explore as much as possible. See some sights.” You can tell that he’s truly excited about this excursion, and to be completely honest, you found yourself wanting to hang on his every word.
“Anything in particular?” you press, wanting to hear the gritty rich sound of his voice again.
You let him talk on and on about the places he wants to see, and the places that they had already been, even bringing up a few older photos on his phone as he describes their past trips. You try not to look as he scrolls, but his camera roll is full of tons of scenic photos and videos, landscapes, mountains, waterfronts… and of course a few rogue photos of guitars and guitar parts. You wonder if he’s planning to make little vlogs.
“Italy is my favorite, I think. So much history there. I could’ve stayed for six months if they’d have let me.” Your shoulders are pressed up against each others’ now as you watch his thumb glide over the multitude of media, speeding through the less important ones to get to his favorites. Strange of him to trust a stranger this much to watch him scroll his personal camera roll. He obviously doesn’t have much to hide, even if this is crossing that boundary line…
“The people are great, the food is great, the wine, oh god, don’t get me started on the wine…” he chuckles, and you feel yourself bumping your shoulder against his a little as you laugh along with him. “The terroir is fuckin’ phenomenal, obviously. It’s like a different world.”
“I like a moscato every now and then.” You add, trying to throw in your two cents on your crumbs of wine knowledge.
He returns with a scrunched nose. “Hmm, a bit sweet for my taste…So, Y/N. What’s your story, how’d you end up with us?” he asks, switching to cross his other leg over, now.
You swallow, unsure of how to explain years’ worth of ups and downs you’d gone through to a rockstar. Your boss. You decide to keep it short and sweet, he didn’t need to know everything.
“Well, I spent my entire youth attending a small private school and private high school, so I came up quite the determined and disciplined kid. Kinda sheltered.” You turn again in your seat, tucking one leg up underneath you. “But, I ended up moving away from home and away from family, been in this business for almost, eh, six years now?” You go on, and he listens intently. “Guess you could say I’m a pro at making things happen out of thin air.” You give him a long wink as you snap your fingers together.
His eyebrows shoot up, and he finally gives you a hundred-watt smile. My god, he’s…
“A-ha, so you got all the good hookups, huh?” He asks, running his fingers over his chin as his cheeks turn the palest shade of pink.
“S’what the runner does, isn’t it?” You pull your eyes back down to your lap. “Get you everything you need, right when you need it?”
You bring your eyes back up to his and watch as he swallows hard, his mouth hanging open for just a split second before he catches himself. “Yeah, ehm, I suppose it is. We’re not too bossy, though. Josh can be, but.”
“So I’ve heard, he’s kind of a…diva?” You hadn’t done too much research on them, honestly. You hadn’t had the time. But, what few tiktoks and musics videos you had managed to see were fairly telling of their personalities.
“He is. He is.” Jake laughs. “Don't let him fool you, though. He’s a big softie with an attitude problem. We all kind of are, honestly.”
“You’re a softie?” You press with a teasing tone. “From the few videos I’ve seen of you playing guitar, you look a little intimidating…”
“Me? Intimidating?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Y/N. It’s dangerous…” he growls the last word, and you can feel your insides ripping themselves apart just at the sound of his voice. You have to pull back, now.
“All the runners we’ve ever had did extensive research on us before they came on tour, did you not do that?” he inquires, throwing you off a bit.
You don’t really know how to answer, so you tell the truth. “Honestly Jake, no, I didn’t. I’ve toured with a few other bands in my career, and I did that. I researched them, learned all things I thought I needed to know so I didn’t go in blind. And, this time around, I did a little bit, but I kind of wanted to meet you all for myself. Get my own versions of you.”
“Hm.” He responds with an understanding nod. “Well, you’ll be the first.”
“Speaking of,” you go on, candidly glancing around the cabin and deciding to go ahead and ask the question that’s been nagging you. “Everyone else is seated with someone, wonder why I’m not with the rest of the team.”
“What, you don’t wanna sit by me, Y/N?” he asks with a shred of a grin.
“No no, it’s not that.” you laugh. “Just—“
“Normally I have someone with me, but…we’ve recently…gone our separate ways, I suppose.” He trips over the words a little, stammering through them like it was the first time he’d admitted it.
“Oh… I see.” you pause, “That’s…never an easy thing.”
I wonder if that was why he was so snippy that day at the office when you saw him fall off his rocker?
“Eh, s’alright. Win some, lose some. We had a good run.” He says as he waves off the question. “So, you say you’ve been doing this awhile, you must really miss whoever you’re leaving at home.”
Skating around the question, aren’t you, Jake?
“No, I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.” You bite your lip as he doesn’t stop you from elaborating further. “I’m pretty independent, I like structure and uniformity. Growing up I wasn’t allowed much time on my own to have hobbies outside of school and practice. Strict parents. The job has kept me pretty adhered to that mindset, even in my personal life, so.”
His eyes flick to yours and he squints them a little, as if he’s collecting every single one of your words and hanging them in a closet in his mind. He’s trying his best to figure you out, you can see it on his face. But why? He shouldn’t care…you don’t matter.
“I can respect that.” He nods again. “My brothers and I, we grew up in a fairly religious household. Was great, don’t get me wrong. Really formed our roots but, as we got older and started to see the world, we kinda got away from it. Began to start seeing things in a different perspective.” He sucks his teeth, as if he’s recounting a hard memory. “Kinda why we moved to Nashville. We knew we had to break away if we wanted the band to be successful.”
You nod in understanding. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”
His laugh fills the cabin as it bounces off the walls, a sweet chuckle that makes your heart rate pick up. You could listen to him laugh all day long.
“S’pose it did.”
“The fuck are you two over here laughing at, huh?” Suddenly Josh’s curls are squished between your seats, his cheeks pinched together as he speaks. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye but I can’t from all the babbling—”
Jake places his hand over entirety of his twin’s face, pressing him through and back into his own seat. “None of your business, fuck off.”
You laugh at their antics, knowing in the back of your mind that you had better get used to it. You feel the air kick on again, fiercely blowing the freezing cold air directly onto you. You shiver a little, balling yourself up and pulling your sleeves closely in toward you again.
“You want my jacket?” Jake asks, already starting to pull it from his shoulders.
“No! No no no, thank you, but I’m fine, really.” The last thing you need is that right off that bat. A bad look. Day one. Nope.
“Seriously, I run naturally hot. Take it.” He replies.
“Oh yeah? Hence all your layers?” You tease, repositioning in your seat.
“It’s a fashion statement, thank you very much.” He bites. “All about comfort for me.”
Gotta change the subject.
“So tell me something I should know about your brothers. Something that would give me brownie points if I wanted to say…impress them with my craft service skills…” you press, giving him a new challenge.
“Wow um, let’s see…” he brings his fingers to his chin and thinks hard, and you can’t help but feel endeared by the fact that he truly wants to help you out. “Josh stays away from chocolate and dairy and sweets and all that, but his guilty pleasure is those cotton candy flavored grapes. Weird, I know.”
“Oh my god, those are so nasty!” you laugh, but still take note.
“Danny would be over the moon if you surprised him with salsa verde Doritos, and Sam drinks kombucha more than the normal human should.” he finishes with a stern nod.
“Got it. I think I can make most of that happen, aside from the grapes…”
“He would kiss you right on the lips, I’m telling you.” Jake giggles again, and you notice how he lights up when he talks about them.
“So Josh is the dramatic softie, what about the other two?” you ask.
“Sam’s kinda serious but he’s playful when he wants to be. Sneaky, too. Daniel’s always into something, always busy. Man doesn’t like to sit still,” he concludes, and you commit it all.
“And what about you?” you ask, feeling your stomach flip for some reason.
“I thought you said you wanted to get your own versions of us,” he quipped back, parroting your words from earlier. Damn, you had said that.
You toss your hair behind your shoulder. “I did but…You’ll tell me all about them, but not about yourself?”
He crunches his lips together as his eyes scan your face. It makes you a little uncomfortable, how hard he’s really looking at you, but you let him. Stopping him would be a sin you weren’t ready to commit just yet.
“That’s right.”
The two of you drift off into silence again as the minutes tick by, thankfully not being embarrassingly interrupted by Josh anymore. You decide that you want to listen to some music, so you reach into the pocket of your bag and pull out your AirPods, slipping the left one in first followed by the right. You pull up your music and begin flipping through your playlists, searching for something to match the relaxed tone of the hour. Truly, you feel like you could easily drift off to sleep.
You find a nice quiet playlist and curl up in your seat, halfway reluctant you didn’t take Jake’s jacket, but also proud of yourself for saying no. You’re fucking freezing.
You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, ready to drift off into another world.
You’re jolted awake by turbulence, the plane shaking again as you wake up and get your bearings. “Shit,” you breathe as you sit up straighter, remembering exactly where you are. You notice that in your slumber, your head had fallen against Jake’s shoulder. Fuck. Fuck fuck.
The turbulence only lasts a few seconds before it evens out again, and the calmness returns to your body. You glance at Jake, seeing him looking a little drowsy and shaken, too.
“Jake, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, why didn’t you wake me? I—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I kinda dozed off, too,” he replies, stretching his arms high above his head without a care…not like he didn’t just have a stranger asleep with her head on his shoulder.
You look down, noticing that in the time you had drifted off, Jake had covered you with his coat.
You panic, scrambling a little as you work to pull it from your body before anyone notices.
His hands are quickly on yours, stopping your action. “Leave it, Y/N. You were shivering in your sleep…you can’t tell me you aren’t cozy right now…” his voice is barely a whisper, and the warmth of his hands grazing overtop of yours, even for a second, is enough to give you a whole other type of chill.
“Yeah, I—I am warm…” you can’t deny that your body temperature has increased by at least a couple of degrees, and your fingers don’t feel like they’re going to get frostbite anymore. The jacket is heavy, heavier than it looks, and it smells like fresh pine needles and woodsy body soap. Just like…him?
“See?” he growls, backing away. “Just stay put.”
Stay put? You want to bite back with something that will put him in his place; you explicitly told him you didn’t want his jacket, and he covered you anyway. While you were unconscious. While you couldn’t turn down the offer.
…But you’re so warm, now. Your tense muscles are finally relaxing. The frigidity of the space has suddenly turned into a toasty furnace with a crackling fire.
Okay, but just until we land…
“What are you listening to?” Jake asks as he stretches again. You turn your phone for him to see, showing a generic playlist of Peaceful Sleep Songs lighting up your lock screen.
“Agh, no, what is that shit?” Jake snatches your phone from your hand, quickly flipping the screen to unlock with your face before he begins shuffling through your playlists.
“What are you doing?!” you yelp, reaching for your phone back. He raises his free hand to the air, stopping you from taking it.
“Aht aht… I’m finding you something better to listen to. Don’t worry about it.” You suddenly hear the quiet music in your ears switch to something else, something you knew for a fact you hadn’t ever heard before. You give it a second as he turns the volume up a few notches, and you realize that it is most definitely brand new to you.
It’s a solemn, tense-feeling piano beat, followed in by guitar. Lyrics only come in after a minute and a half or so. It sounds like growling, deep and hollow and a bit scary, but beautiful nonetheless. He’s watching your face as you experience it, quickly pressing pause as the song comes to a close.
“What was that?” you ask, realizing you had really enjoyed it.
“That was a song called Intro, by Alt-J. I know you’ve heard of Alt-J.” he says as he goes back to work on the phone.
You slowly shake your head from side to side. “Can’t say I have, actually.”
His jaw goes slack as his eyebrows raise in disbelief. “What? Like, never?”
You feel your cheeks turning pink at the thought of a literal rockstar calling you out on your lack of music knowledge.
“I don’t think so! That’s not what I normally listen to…don’t judge me,” you laugh, reaching for your phone again.
He swats your hand away. “Ohh no, little fledgling. You’re listening to this. This is the good shit…” he presses play again as a twinkling high-pitched voice comes through your ears. It’s just jumbled words, no backing music or tune. The acapella strikes you as strange at first, until the end when it changes tone a bit, and it’s almost as if the lyrics are giving you advice you didn’t ask for. Warning you of something new and exhilarating, or better yet, dangerous and foreboding. It almost feels as if a black cloud has overcome you, only for a split second, letting you feel the nonexistent pokes and pinches that come along with the emotion of worry.
The song flows directly into another now, one layered with a lot more sound, and it pulls you from that odd headspace the previous had put you in. You lean over the armrest, looking at the screen to see the title Tessellate. You’ve never heard anything like this kind of music before, and you wonder why Jake chose this particular artist.
“This is one of their more popular ones, like radio popular, but it’s still one of my favorites on this album. Here in a second you’ll hear it slow down—”
You stop him by pulling your right earbud out, shoving it in his hand. “Shh, you can talk me through the songs later. Let me listen.”
He shuts his mouth, giving you a sweet grin as he takes the bud, placing it in his own ear and pressing play again. You continue on through the album, each song something brand new to you, a genre you’d really never delved into but wish you had, now. It’s enthralling, different, and full of sounds that make your mind sway and swim through mixtures of color and gray.
You watch as Jake’s fingers tap along exactly with the beat of each song perfectly, down to a tee. The words don’t make much sense to you, and you can hardly distinguish what the singer is saying, but you know that Jake will give you a rundown of it all as soon as time allows him. You don’t know much about him, but his persistence is already apparent. You glance to see his eyelashes hitting his cheeks, his head barely bobbing side to side as he feels the music. You find yourself envious that he can draw inspiration and act on it, turning it into art of his own, whereas all you can do is sit back and listen to it.
Every couple of minutes he perks up from his meditation and adds new songs from their other albums onto the little playlist he’s started for you. You can’t quite make out what he’s titled it, but you can tell it's an emoji of some sort. His thumb flips and flies with precision across your screen as he scrolls and adds songs, and you have to admit, you’re a little excited to get your phone back and learn just what he’s creating for you. Especially for you.
You take a quick deep breath as you recenter yourself, catching your eyes drifting over his hand as he grips your phone. The veins in his hand roll over his knuckles, and you can just barely see the scuffed and calloused ends of his fingertips. Dial it the fuck back Y/N, remember the rules.
“Oooh, this is another one of my favorites,” he remarks, his mouth fairly close to your ear as he tries not to raise his voice over the volume of the music. He turns the screen a little so you can see the title, Taro. “You haven’t— You didn’t come to any of our shows last year by chance, did you?”
You feel a big pang of guilt shoot through your chest, remembering that you had actually been invited by some friends to see them way back when, but you’d turned the invitation down, not knowing who they even were at the time. You shake your head from side to side. “No, I didn’t.”
“This is one of the ones we play to the crowd before we go on. We all love it, it’s a sad, sad love tale based on true events. That’s the cool thing about this group, their lyrics are never really about what you think they are. They’re storytellers, a bit like Josh is, if you think about it. Their themes and over arcs are just…mind blowing sometimes.” Jake’s voice is a tiny murmur in your ear as your shoulders lean on one another’s again, still very taken with the music flowing through your ear. “We grab a lot of inspo from them, sonically and melodically…” You can feel his breath on your cheek, and you find yourself wondering what it would taste like…
“Here, read along with the lyrics. Try not to cry.” He hands your phone back, letting you keep up with the words floating down your screen. And he’s right, it’s heartbreaking without even knowing the context.
“Wow…That was really beautiful,” you choke, realizing the depth of the story of the song.
“Yep. Good shit, I told you.” He whips his hand around and takes the phone back as the next song comes in and warms your bones up again. You can feel the bare skin of his elbow brushing against yours, realizing that he was telling the truth about being naturally warm-bodied. Suddenly you don’t feel so bad about cuddling up under his coat.
He opens your contacts app and adds himself, placing the sword emoji beside his name. He smirks as he hands the phone back.
“Added your phone number, huh?” you ask rhetorically.
He sucks his teeth as he cracks his fingers. “Yep. How else will I let you know what I might need? Plus, never know when you might need to call me.”
—
You watch the signs overhead illuminate, a gentle tone ringing through the cabin as the Captain starts to make an announcement. You pause the song and pull your AirPod out, watching Jake do the same.
“Hey folks, this is your Captain speaking. Just want to let you know we will be landing in Hamburg shortly. I’d expect to be on the ground in the next ten minutes or so, putting us about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, so sit tight and we’ll have you on the ground in a few. Attendants please prepare for arrival.”
You turn to look at Jake, shrugging as you slide your AirPod back into the case. He raises his eyebrows and drops his jaw. “But we aren’t done! Wait! Hold on!”
He grabs your phone again, and from what you can see he is adding more songs to your playlist. You watch as he scrolls through various different albums by different artists, adding songs as quickly as he can. You smirk as you catch sight of the emoji he’s chosen, the chick icon, a playful nod at his earlier fledgling comment. He peeks over at you every few seconds, trying his best to hurry so you can pack up your things, but in a last effort you watch as he adds himself as a collaborator to the playlist.
You raise an eyebrow to him as he hands your phone back to you, shrugging with a soft laugh. You feel your insides swirl at the sight of his smile, and you turn your eyes to your phone scrolling through the songs on the playlist. You turn back to him and nod, a silent agreement that you will listen just as you feel the plane starting to land.
“I wanna keep adding songs for you to listen to, fledgling. If you want me to, of course…”
You nod. “Of course I do. School away, Jake,” you reply with an air of playful annoyance.
He chuckles. “I plan to.”
As you brace for the landing you grip your hands into the arm rests, letting go of the soft worn in corduroy fabric you’d been playing with for the last hour. Your eyes squint closed as the plane touches down, jolting everyone forward in their seats. Jake grabs his phone as the plane slows down, flashing his screen at you to show a local time of 12:13AM.
“I see some jet lag in our future,” you smile, sliding his jacket off of your arms. You fold it the best you can and hand it back to him, almost sad you have to give it back to him. “Thanks again for that.”
“Oh yeah, no problem.” He accepts it graciously from you, letting out a soft breath as he unfolds it and slides it back over his shoulders. It fits his personality well, soft and sturdy, worn in and weathered. He flips his hair out from beneath the collar, a barely there smell of peppermint passing through the air. You pull your gaze away from him just as you see his cheeks start to blush from your gaze. You lock your phone and stick it into your backpack at your feet, wondering how in such a short amount of time Jake has managed to infiltrate your thoughts so completely.
JAKE POV
As she turns to grab her bag you open your phone, tapping on the notification that she has added you to her playlist. You accept the invitation with a sly smile before sliding your phone back into your coat pocket. It smells like her now, soft and floral, very different than anything you were used to. Your mind was already circling with things you wanted to add to that playlist when you got a minute, finding it was harder than you thought to think of songs on the fly.
The first few rows begin to file out of the plane and you watch as Paul stands and turns to look at Y/N, motioning to her to meet up with him after she got off the plane. She nods her head and slides her backpack straps over her shoulders, waiting for her turn to stand.
“For jet lag…You know…Um, Benadryl,” you offer, your voice a little soft and unsure.
She turns to look at you, pinching her brows together in question.
“When you get to your room tonight, take a Benadryl. Should knock you out until the morning and help you get on a normal schedule. Works for me, at least.” you finish, nodding to her as the people in front of you stand to leave.
“Thanks, Jake.” She smiles and nods, sliding out of her seat to walk down the aisle.
You watch her as she walks up the jet bridge towards the gate, seeing Paul waiting for her in the doorway. The two walk together through the airport, finding it fairly quiet at this hour as most of the flights have landed for the night. You push your sunglasses down onto your nose just as you feel Josh walking up behind you.
He gives you a gentle nudge in the side to get your attention. “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah. Easy flight,” you answer, still listening and catching bits and pieces of whatever Paul is saying to Y/N, prepping her for the hotel check in and details for the morning. She is typing notes on her phone as she walks, barely looking where she is going, clearly trusting Paul to look out for her more than she should.
You tune out Josh as he rambles on about the flight, Ty jumping in every few words with a retort or a laugh. Your eyes don’t seem to leave her though, watching her talk, watching her walk, shit, just watching her. You can’t seem to shake it. You’d never met anyone like her before. Someone you were so instantly taken with. You wanted to know every single detail about her.
You feel Josh’s hand as it comes up to your chin, pressing it upward and forcing your jaw shut. “There, you seemed to have dropped that.”
You turn to him angrily, knowing what he’s insinuating, giving him a hard elbow to the arm. “Fuck off, Josh.”
He laughs and pushes you with his shoulder, readjusting his backpack on his other shoulder. “Just an observation, that’s all. Can’t say I blame you, though.”
“Oh are you talking about Jake and Y/N?” Sam interjects, stepping up on your right side in a lanky stride.
Josh nods, laughing slightly, wanting to keep this banter going. Asshole.
“Can you two knock it off, fuck,” you growl, hoping she can’t hear them. Your eyes are locked in on her again, and much to your relief she is talking to Paul and can’t hear a word they’re saying.
“He didn’t shut up the entire flight. Lots of whispering and giggles from up there. I didn’t sleep at all. But I did hear his monologue about the genius of Alt-J for the fourth time this year.” Josh quips, earning a laugh from everyone around you.
“Fuck you again, Josh,” you spit, annoyed at his lack of respect.
“Damn, so you’re trying to scare her away, then?” Sam teases, giving you a sideways grin.
You shake your head and push past them forcefully as you step off the escalator into baggage claim, not wanting to engage in this conversation a second longer. Especially because you were afraid they might be right.
—
“Shit, not again,” Danny mumbles as you all approach the baggage claim area, immediately noticing a group of fans obviously waiting for your arrival. You take a deep, preparational breath as you can’t help but run into them on your path to the carousel.
“Let’s just get it over with,” you hear Josh complain as he puts on his faux-happy face. You all love meeting fans. Truly, watching their faces light up when they see you is something that is unparalleled. But coming off of a long flight and already feeling the effects of the time difference, starving, and ready for a drink usually puts all of you in a mood that is generally irked overall. But you always suck it up; this is the life you signed up for.
This time though, unlike most encounters with fans, is enough to make your general irritation quickly turn into intense aggravation. They swarm you, hugging and pulling and invading your spaces in an extremely unwelcome attempt at meeting each of you. You feel surrounded, and unable to get to your luggage in time before it rounds the carousel again. You keep your cool, just as you always do, curtly smiling and pulling away as your body instructs you to. You pause for quick photos as your eyes search the spinning luggage again. You see your brothers out of the corners of your eyes doing the same… quick ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet you’s’ as the crowd just seems to get bigger and bigger.
Just as your eyes finally fall on your suitcase, you hear a loud clack as you turn and notice someone has knocked Sam’s phone out of his hand. It lands face down on the tile floor, likely cracked and scuffed from the people crowding around you all. You watch as Sam’s face turns up in annoyance, his eyes closed as he composes himself.
“Okay, that’ll be enough!” You hear Dean, your security, bellow across the crowd. “Please step away, no more photos, no more photos…” Dean makes his way into the center of group, quickly dispersing them. You give Sam a quick look that says, ‘get your phone, let’s go’, and soon enough you’re rolling your suitcase through the middle of the crowded room.
You see Y/N in the crowd, finding her to be a little flustered from the encounters, but alright nonetheless. You lock eyes with her as she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’, and you nod her off with a look of, ‘Yeah, this happens all the time.’
Your team is surrounding you as you quickly walk through the hallway toward the exit, ready to hop into an unmarked van and zip away to your hotel. You’re still being followed as you make it through the back exit doors.
When you’re finally safe outside the pickup area, everyone breathes a sigh of relief. “Fuck, that was a bad one.” Danny says. “Sam, how's your phone?”
“It’s ok, just a little scuff in the corner but it’ll be fine,” he answers, scanning his eyes over it.
“Guys, keep your phones on, Wes will be texting you tomorrow with where we’re headed next. Get some sleep and something to eat.” Paul instructs as everyone loads their things into the vans. Y/N is standing nearby, and you can tell that she feels a little out of place as she awkwardly crosses one ankle over the other. You take a quick opportunity to knock your elbow into her side, feeling comfortable enough to do that now that you’d sat together so long on the plane, but she’s avoiding eye contact. You hope she doesn’t feel uncomfortable around you.
“Hey, thanks for letting me jam a little with you on the plane,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry if I overstepped any, but I really think you’ll like the music I added for you.”
Finally her composure opens a little. “No, no! You didn’t… overstep. I’m actually excited to hop in my big cozy hotel bed and listen again.” Her words make your stomach fall with nerves, but you quickly suppress it.
“Y/N, you ready?” you hear Wes ask her as he passes by, heading toward another van.
“Yep, all set!” she answers as she follows him through the dwindling group. She hops into another van, and you worry she’ll be staying at another hotel. For a second you think you won’t see her as much if she is. You climb inside the van and slam the door closed behind you, seeing the group of fans with their phones pressed to the windows of the airport. You plop back down into the middle seat beside Josh, and finally take a full breath of relief.
“Fuck! I swear to god if I’m getting sick again…” Josh says as he bangs his head against the headrest behind him. You scoot sideways on the van’s bench seat, staying as far away from him as you can.
“Are you serious?!” Danny says from the seat behind you. “You need a mythical medicine man or some shit.”
“It’s fine, I’m fine, just feel a little congested. I’ll send Y/N out on her first mission for some meds after we get settled in the hotel.” Josh answers, and you keep yourself pressed against the van’s window, purposefully turning your back to him. Can’t have that again. You realize, though, that of course she’ll be in the same hotel as you, management always is.
The vision of a worried Y/N replays in your mind, seeing her face full of concern as the fans did all but ambush you earlier. You shake the thought, suddenly having a realization that, most likely, everyone else is having, too.
“I think we should amp up security,” you blurt. “No offense to Dean, but he’s only one guy. There are more than ten of us…” you’re met with a little bit of silence, so you press on. “Just while we’re over here, at least. We’re going to be separated a lot, and I think it would be a good idea if Dean wasn’t being pulled in all different directions.”
“Don’t you think we should have thought of that before we got over here, Jake?” Josh counters.
“I’ve actually been thinking it for a while. Today just…made me feel like it’s necessary, now,” you respond quietly. What could it hurt? You have the funds, and a few extra eyes on you and your team couldn’t be a bad thing.
You hear a collective sigh from your brothers, until Sam finally speaks. “Yeah, I kinda felt a little overwhelmed when I dropped my phone and it got kicked away from me. First world problems, I know, but—”
“But someone could have picked it up, and ran off with it. Gotten access to your private information. Stepped on it and shattered it. We’re probably just paranoid, but I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad idea…” you suggest.
“I like the idea.” Josh adds. “Wish we would have talked about it sooner, but I’m sure Paul could get something arranged for us. Those security companies are always looking for overseas gigs.”
“Daniel, you agree?” you ask, twisting your body to the backseat.
“Yeah, I do, actually,” he decides.
“Good. It’s settled, then. We’ll talk to Paul first thing in the morning,” you say, happy with your decision of bringing it up. All you can see is a memory of Y/N’s scared face replaying over and over in your mind, and you just can’t seem to shake it.
You quickly curse yourself, you’re in no headspace to be worrying about a woman right now. You’ve gotta keep your head on straight. Tour hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already letting a new girl give you butterflies. You audibly scoff at yourself as you lean your elbow on the window, looking out at the bustling streets outside. You throw your earbuds in, letting the tangle of cords just be what it is, and you pull your phone out to switch the volume up. Of course, Alt-J pops onto your screen the second you look at it, and you wonder if she’s already listening to them, too.
The city lights are twinkling through the light drizzle of rain, and you finally feel your bones starting to settle into tiredness. Though your mind is racing with excitement to play shows, you let yourself ignore the thoughts and relax into the music blessing your ears. Some room service and a down comforter is calling your name.
—--
HER POV
The shrill sound of your hotel room telephone wakes you from a half-sleep. What the hell? What time is it? You don’t remember falling asleep, but the loud TV and the lights still illuminating the room signify you must have accidentally dozed off.
“Hello?” you answer, realizing that no matter the time, duty calls.
“Hey, Y/N. It’s Paul. Sorry if I woke you…”
“No, you’re fine. I’m awake,” you lie.
“Cool. Um, Josh was wondering if you’d run to the pharmacy down the street and pick up the meds I just texted you. He said he would go get them himself, but he’s doing a lung steaming treatment or… something. I dunno. But if you don’t care, here’s your first assignment! I know it’s late, but the pharmacy is apparently open all night.”
You glance at your watch and see that it’s already nearing 1:00AM. “Sure! I don’t care at all. Tell him I’ll have them to him ASAP.”
“Will do. Hey, turn your location on for me and Wes, okay? Be safe, thanks again,” Paul hangs up the phone before you can say goodbye, and within seconds you’re crawling out of bed and putting your pants back on. Your stomach growls as you realize you fell asleep without eating anything. You make a plan to make a quick trip to the pharmacy, deliver Josh his medicine, then go back out to find something to eat before you end up eating the bag of peanuts you stuffed in your bag on the plane.
You take a second to check your messages, finding you have three unread messages from Ruth. In the mess and confusion of the day, and the time difference, you’ve been thrown for a loop. You shoot her a quick few texts to let her know you’re alive and well, but you leave out the sweet little detail that you’d shared AirPods with the guitarist of the band you’re touring with. You’d get into that part later.
The walk to the pharmacy is short, thankfully, and you find the things Josh needs without much of an issue at all. The city is still fairly crowded with people at this hour, and you make sure to track your steps backward just the way you came to get back to the hotel. Your stomach rumbles again, and the smells coming from the various restaurants around you have your head spinning with hunger.
A few quiet knocks on Josh’s hotel room door bring him to answer it within seconds, and his warm composure instantly makes you feel welcome. “Y/N! Thank you so much, seriously. I need to knock this shit out before it gets any worse, and I think you just saved the day,’ he gushes as you see clouds of steam pouring out of his cracked bathroom door, and smell the sweet scent of herbal fragrances as they waft through your nose. “You have any trouble finding the place? Google said it was close by…”
“Anytime, Josh. And no, actually. It was right around the corner,” you answer, handing him the bag of meds.
“Good. Well I won’t bother you again, you heading to sleep?” he asks with a warm tone.
You bite the inside of your lip as your stomach screams at you again. “No, I passed a little pub on my walk, and it smelled amazing as I walked by. Think I’m gonna go have a drink and get something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Go feed yourself, love. Enjoy the city. We’ve got a long day tomorrow!”
“Will do, see you tomorrow!” you say as he closes the door.
“Thanks again! See ya!”
You make your way to the elevator and down to the bottom floor, digging your phone out of your pocket to check your location and make sure the pub is still going to be open at this hour. A quick search for Le Marmitone tells you the kitchen doesn’t close for another hour, so you pick up your pace and head straight for the pub.
The wind and rain have picked up a little bit, and you thank yourself for adding a few layers on before you left your hotel room earlier. The cold air bites at your cheeks as you meander through the people still out walking the streets, and the smell of the food drifting on the wind draws you straight back to the pub. Upon entering the double doors, you find that it is actually a nice restaurant with a bar.
You grab a seat at the corner of the bar, glancing to the coolers and shelves to see what your drink options are.
“Evening madame, here is a menu. Can I get you a beverage?” a man in a sport coat asks as he hands you the shiny white menu. His accent is thick, but you can understand him fairly easily.
“Hello. Could I have a whiskey soda and a water, please?” you ask as you remove your heavy jacket and hang it over the back of the stool. You look over the menu choices and decide on a bowl of soup and a sandwich, more of a lunch option, but a steaming hot bowl of soup sounds exactly like what you need right now.
There are a few people still scattered throughout the restaurant, most closing their tabs and leaving for the night. There are a few patrons still at the bar, stuck in conversations with one another or watching whatever game is playing on the big screen.
The bartender sets your drinks in front of you as you tell him your food order, and you pull out your phone to begin fishing through emails and making your daily checklists. The Whiskey drink is strong, but not too strong, and you let yourself enjoy the immediate warmth it sends coursing through your veins.
You fill your stomach up as far as it will allow you, and you decide that one more drink probably won’t hurt, as the place doesn’t close up for another hour. You’re enjoying yourself, basking in the calm before the storm that is going to hit promptly at 10AM tomorrow.
“‘Scuse me, sir. I’ll take one more drink and my check, please,” you alert the bartender. He nods and turns to concoct your drink and print your tab. When he returns, he plops a bright red maraschino cherry onto the top.
“Gentleman at the end of the bar says this one is on him, ma’am.” He places the white slip of paper in front of you as he removes your dishes, and disappears. Your eyes slowly drift to the left, landing on an older gentleman who had been lingering at the end of the bar since you’d gotten here. His friends have since left, leaving him to finish off a few more rounds by himself.
He smiles hard when you notice him, and slides off his stool, stumbling his way toward you. You feel your heart rate pick up as he approaches you, and you remember that you do have mace in your purse, should you need it, Ruth’s one request.
“Hello, lovely. Enjoy that drink on me this evening,” he slurs with a heavy accent. He sits down in the stool beside you, and suddenly you’d rather not have that second drink, after all. You glance at the drink, and back to him, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in his presence.
“Um, thank you, really. But I—I’ve actually got to go. It’s getting to be later than I thought…” you lie, pulling out some cash from your purse to pay the bill.
“Nonsense! Have the drink, beautiful. Tell me, where are you from? Your accent tells me it’s somewhere far away from here…” he presses, pushing the drink toward you. His hands are giant, and covered in dark hair. He has a beard of the same color that reaches almost down to his stomach, and you can smell the alcohol radiating from his breath.
“The States,” you say bluntly, avoiding eye contact with him as the bartender is nowhere to be found. You immediately kick yourself for not telling Dean where you had run off to, all by yourself. You know better than this.
“Obviously, sweetheart. But where?” he asks.
“Um, a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it,” you go on, beginning to pull your jacket on and leave the money on the bar top. Suddenly the man’s hand is on the back of the stool, holding it steady as you try to turn it.
“I’d like to hear all about it, love,” he growls, and you suddenly feel very intimidated. There is no one else around, no other patrons at the bar, you couldn’t feel the presence of another human or employee running about, and you contemplated making a run for it.
“I promise I’m not here to scare you, just talk. That’s all I’d like to do…” he goes on, backing his hand away from the chair as he notices your panic. Finally, the bartender makes his way back, but instead of taking your check, he continues cleaning and re-stocking for the night. You’re alone, and uncomfortable. Why did you do this to yourself?
Suddenly you remember that Jake put his number in your phone. You know you can’t get a hold of Dean at this hour, especially since you didn’t tell him you were going anywhere. You can’t make that bad of a first impression before your first day even really happens.
You quickly turn your attention to your phone, trying to figure out what to do, but then it hits you. You type in the name, taking a deep breath before sending Jake a risky text as a last ditch effort.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, hmm?” the man asks as you turn away from him to type as quickly as you can.
You
1:47AM: Jake, are you awake?
Your foot taps nervously on the floor, the man next to you doing everything in his power to corner you into this seat. A text bounces back after a minute, and you feel your shoulders relax just a touch.
Jake 🗡
1:49AM: How did you get this number?
You
1:50AM: You put it in my phone today on the plane. Are you busy?
Jake 🗡
1:51AM: Oh, hey. No, I’m just getting ready to go to bed, why what’s up? You okay?
You
1:52AM: No. I don’t think so. I hate to ask this, I know it’s late. Is there any way you could come meet me? I left to get something to eat and didn't tell anyone and this guy here has me cornered into my seat and I don't think he is gonna let me leave alone.
Jake 🗡
1:53AM: Share your location, I’m leaving now.
You
1:54AM: Thank you. I owe you.
“Did you hear me sweetheart? I said, are you expecting someone?” the man asks, a sly grin on his face as he leans closer to you.
You quickly glance back down at your phone, sharing your location with Jake and hoping he can find you. You lock your phone and put it in your purse, pretending you’re a lot less anxious than you actually are.
“Actually, yes, I am. My…boyfriend is on his way. He’ll be here in just a second.” you lie, doing your best to speak confidently. “I should probably step outside to meet him.”
“No, no, stay, you haven’t touched your drink,” he says, gesturing to the glass of alcohol. “I know a place down the street, stays open late, too.”
You feel your skin start to grow clammy, the man's intentions suddenly becoming very clear. Your heart is pounding as you try to talk your way out of the situation. You clear your throat, and just as you start to speak you see the front door of the restaurant open. Jake steps inside, looking side to side, his eyes quickly scanning the entirety of the restaurant until he locks eyes with you.
He nods to the host at the door as he walks toward you, wearing the same clothes from earlier but now his hair is a little messier. You know he got out of bed to do this.
You instantly stand from your seat as Jake steps up, reaching towards him as he settles himself between you and the man.
“Hey baby, you finally made it,” you coo, your pleading eyes locked on Jake’s as he wraps his arm around your shoulder in a welcoming hug. You can smell him, the cologne lingering on his coat. The same coat that was wrapped around you only hours ago.
He pulls away and drops his arms to his side as you turn to him. You stare at him just a second longer, hoping he can hear the words you are screaming in your mind. He blinks and turns to look at the man before letting his eyes flick back to you.
“Yeah, yeah, of course babe, sorry I was late,” he pauses, turning to face the drunk man beside him. “Who is this?”
You let out a small breath of relief as he silently agrees to play along with you. “Oh, he came over from the bar. He sent this drink over, but I just can’t drink it. I already had one and you know I work in the morning,” you answer, hoping he is understanding what you’re trying to say. “Do you want it?”
He looks so effortless standing there with a hand in his jacket pocket. He tilts his head and scrunches his nose just a bit before answering, “Ahh, nah…It looks like a watered down well pour and I just had one myself before I got here. I’m alright. We should probably get going though, we have an early day tomorrow and it’s fairly late already.”
Yes.
“Oh, you two are terrible liars. He isn’t your boyfriend, is he sweetheart?” the man asks, scoffing at Jake. “You should come with me, I can show you the city better than this fool.”
“That’s an awfully brazen assumption, sir, I must say.” Jake argues, pulling his hand from his coat pocket and grabbing yours. You suck in a harsh breath feeling his fingers lace with yours. Fake or not, there was definitely a new feeling swirling through your veins.
“Look at her, she’s flustered. This woman hasn’t ever been touched by you. It’s written all over her face.” he continues, looking Jake over.
“Your boyfriend, your husband, he isn’t any of those things. I don’t see a ring on your finger, and I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in this country, you my dear, are fair game.”
You want to snap back. The audacity is astounding. You start to step forward, ready to lay into him, but you feel Jake’s hand squeeze yours and you know he’s telling you to follow his lead this time.
“She is with me, sir,” Jake spits. “And it would be in your best interest to back off.”
“Oh, is that right?” the man counters, standing up from his seat, giving him a few good inches over Jake. Jake didn’t falter though. Of course he didn’t. He knew that didn’t matter.
“Kiss her, then. If she’s yours, kiss her,” he quips.
“Absolutely not, I don’t have to prove anything to you, and quite frankly sir, it’s none of your business,” Jake snaps, you can tell he’s starting to get mad, his hand gripping yours a little harder. “Let’s go, babe.”
You stand firm next to him, not letting your face show a single waiver of emotion as the man waits to see if you’ll crack. Jake starts to walk away pulling you behind him, but before you can move the man grabs your other arm, taking both of you by surprise.
“Stay, sugar. Let a real man take you home.”
Jake snaps his head around, hearing the words fall from the man's drunken mouth. For a minute you’re scared. You don’t know how Jake is going to react, his jaw is hard set and his nostrils flared in anger. You hear him curse under his breath as he shakes his head.
“You know what? Fuckin’ fine…” he challenges, looking at the man then to you, nodding just enough for you to notice.
Just as you feel the anxiety of what he is about to do bloom in your chest, he reads your body language, letting a sweet and quiet ‘S’okay’ slip from his lips.
Your eyes widen a little as you realize what’s about to happen, but take solace in the fact that he’s likely just as nervous as you are. He stops, pulling you in towards him as his hand grabs at your waist.
His fingers grip into your hairline as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your lips, hot and wet as your hands slide up his body to rest on his chest. You kiss him back, you’re trying to sell this as the real thing, but also partly because you just want to. You try not to think about that part too much as you let your tongue flick against his just for a second before pulling it back. You feel the vibration on your lips as the softest groan leaves his mouth just as he pulls away from you.
Your lips are wet with the taste of him and your chest is heaving as Jake rubs his lips together and clears his throat. He turns to the man who is standing there staring at the two of you, a bit of challenge in his tone as he speaks. “You good now?”
The man scoffs, mumbling a curse as he bats at the air between you. You feel yourself relax in Jake’s grip as the man turns to walk back to his original place at the bar. A quiet ‘fuck’ leaves Jake’s mouth as he turns his attention back to you, stepping back and releasing his grip on you.
His eyes search yours just as yours search his, both of you unsure what to say. Instead he looks over to the man again, nodding his head to him as he grabs your hand again and guides you towards the door.
“You okay?” he asks, opening the door and letting you walk out into the drizzle. You pull your jacket closed across your front, the cold air chilling your skin.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you– for that,” you murmur as he steps up next to you. He grabs your hand again, lacing his warm fingers with your cold ones, taking you by surprise.
“Oh, it’s okay now Jake, he isn’t following us,” you offer, looking over your shoulder to check. He doesn’t drop your hand though, in fact you feel his fingertips brush across your knuckles, sending a whole different kind of chill through your body.
“I know,” he answers, smiling shyly as he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re positive he can see the blush that has taken over your cheeks, your mouth suddenly dry, and your mind unable to form a response. You feel the butterflies swirling around in your stomach as you walk towards the hotel, the rain starting to taper off finally.
“You can trust me, you know,” he says, his voice sincere as he guides you around puddles.
“I barely know you, Jake,” you smile, bumping your shoulder into his.
“For now,” he answers, squeezing your hand in his.
He opens the door to the hotel lobby, the warm air instantly hitting you. Jake drops your hand, your fingertips brushing against his. You kind of miss it, in a way you definitely shouldn’t be.
“Thank you again, for doing all of that. I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I won’t make that mistake again,” you say, watching him press the button for the elevator. Your eyes linger on his lips, a little pink from the cold air outside.
“It was no problem, I promise. Stop apologizing,” he pauses, motioning for you to step into the elevator. “Let me walk you to your room, what floor?” he asks, his finger hovering over the buttons.
“Oh, no it’s really okay, you don’t have to do that. I promise I’m good now,” you stammer, watching his lips turn up in a huff of laughter.
“Y/N, what floor?”
“Nine,” you squeak, your eyes fixated on the dimple in his cheek. You feel your skin growing warm just from looking at him, you feel like you might burst into flames just at the thought of how his lips felt on yours. Did you imagine that whole encounter? No way all of that just happened.
“Me as well,” he says, pressing the button as the doors close.
The two of you ride up in silence, casting each other the occasional glance every few seconds. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you're positive you stopped breathing. The elevator chimes as it reaches the ninth floor, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound.
He smiles at you again as the doors open, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. “Your room number?”
“Um, I think I'm 924, all the way down,” you answer, your heart jumping in your chest.
He nods his head and puts a hand into his pocket. “Alright, I’m just up here in 915, but I’ll walk you down.”
“Jake you really don’t have to, you can just–”
He turns to you and laughs, shaking his head again. “Just let me.”
“Fine.” You huff a breath, pulling your own keycard from your purse. He walks only a step behind you, both hands in his pockets now as you step up to your door. You tap your key to the lock and hear it beep, signaling for you to enter. You turn to look at Jake, seeing a softness to his face you hadn’t noticed until now.
“Thank you, for…being such a gentleman,” you say playfully, smiling at him.
“My pleasure, Miss Y/N. There is some chivalry left in the world…” he answers, bringing his hand up to rub at his lips.
You start to enter your room, and hear him speak again, this time very quietly. “We’re not all bad.”
You turn around to see him shifting his weight still rubbing his fingers over his chin as if he expected you not to hear him.
“What?”
He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, clearly shocked you heard him. You can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Maybe you’ve spooked him.
He shakes his head with a smile, as if telling himself whatever he wanted to say was stupid. He pulls his phone and his keycard from his pocket and grips them in his hand. “Nothing, nothing, um, have a good evening. I will see you in the morning, I suppose.”
You nod once, giving him a sweet and appreciative smile, “See you in the morning.”
He lingers for just a moment, eyes locked on yours before flicking down to your lips. He catches himself and looks back at you before turning to head down the hallway. You shut the hotel room door and twist the lock, letting out the breath you had been holding with a gasp.
You spin around, letting your back press against the door as you sink down to the floor with a barely audible squeal. Holy. Shit. What the hell was that?
Pull yourself together Y/N.
You grab your purse and stand up, digging through it as fast as you can in search of your phone. You have no earthly idea what time it is in Nashville but you don’t care as you pull up your texts with Ruth, and begin furiously typing.
You
2:34AM: Without going into detail I definitely just kissed the guitarist 🫢
You toss your bag onto the chair and change into your pajamas, your blood still rushing around in your body as you try to calm your nervous system. A text bounces back, and you know it’s her.
Ruth
2:40AM: WITHOUT GOING INTO DETAIL???? KISSED? I just got to my desk!!!! I’m here. I’m sat. I’m listening. I want every single detail in a five paragraph essay with MLA formatting.
You
2:42AM: Lol it is 2:40 in the morning. I will call you tomorrow, which is really still today for you, but kinda tomorrow for me? I don’t know this is confusing but I will call you and give you the full run down because we also shared airpods on the plane and he made me a playlist? Love you goodnight!
Ruth
2:44AM: AIRPODS? A PLAYLIST??????
2:45AM: Y/N NO! GET BACK HERE
2:45AM: Okay. Hang on, I’m googling him. I need to see this man’s face
2:46AM: Wait there’s two guitarists
2:46AM: Ok one is the bassist HELLO?? You kissed HIM?! Aldjsfklsk
2:48AM: It’s totally fine and I am being so normal about this. Talk to you later, if I haven’t pulled all my hair out by then! I’ll be creeping his insta all day! Goodnight!
You laugh as you read her onslaught of messages, knowing that she is likely going out of her mind with possible scenarios. You make your way into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth so that you can positively melt into the bed and sleep until your alarm forces you awake. You’re patting your face dry as your phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, but the noise it makes isn’t one you’re familiar with. You hang the towel on the ring and pick up your phone, seeing a notification come through that is brand new to you.
‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
He what?
Now?
Your blood runs cold just seeing his name on your phone after…well…whatever that was.
You turn off the bathroom light, hesitantly sliding your finger across the notification, and letting it bring up the playlist. There at the very bottom you see that a new song was added two minutes ago. But not just any song, no. You know this one. You know this one well. You tap on the song hearing the familiar and haunting guitar riff of ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer start to play through your phone speakers.
You can’t help but to laugh, a smile of shock has your jaw hanging wide open as you stand in your giant fancy hotel room, listening to what you consider to be a fairly romantic song sent straight to you from none other than your knight in shining, well, corduroy, armor. You couldn’t even picture him listening to this song, and somehow that almost made it a little better.
As the chorus plays you fall backwards onto your bed, the fluffy white sheets enveloping you as a giddy feeling swirls through your chest. He’s thinking about me. He’s thinking about that kiss. You felt guilty for thinking about it, but now? Now you weren’t feeling so guilty. He liked it just as much as you did, clearly.
Jake Kiszka liked kissing you.
You.
What?
You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of your face if you had to. You didn’t want to. This was quite possibly the most thrilling thing that has happened to you in months. Years! You had all but forgotten about creepy bar man at this point, but god you have half a mind to walk right back into that bar and shake his hand.
But, you knew you had to calm down. Take a breath. The song came to a close, leaving the hotel room silent. Your mind was still swimming in bliss, replaying the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands held yours, the way he smelled, the way his lips tasted, oh god… He was thinking about your kiss. He all but told you so.
You were also thinking about that kiss. He wanted you to know he was thinking about it. How can you– Oh. A sly grin spreads across your face as you type into the search bar.
You find the song you’re looking for, your thumb hovering over the add button as you try to talk yourself out of doing this. It could end badly, terribly, really. He is technically your boss, and you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but. Hey, you’re just the runner. You smile as you watch the little box pop up reading ‘Added’.
Your heart starts to pound. Did he get a notification? Is he asleep? Did he see it? Will he understand? Since when did you start communicating with people through song titles?
You rush back to the playlist scrolling to the bottom and smiling as you press play on the new addition to your shared playlist. It's mere seconds before ‘Do It Again’ by Steely Dan starts to play and you laugh, knowing you are absolutely crazy. Do it again, of course you wanted to do it again. God he probably thinks you’re such a loser. Plot twist, you are, but he doesn't have to know that yet.
You listen to the song, plugging your phone into the charger and turning off the lamp. You’ve always loved Steely Dan, it reminds you of your dad, but then again who doesn’t it remind of their dad? The song comes to a close, your giddy feeling finally starting to wear off as the exhaustion starts to step into its place. Your eyes feel heavy as you roll towards the nightstand to set your alarm, groaning at how soon it’s coming. You lock your phone and settle into the pillows, letting out a content sigh as you recap the day in all of its insane glory.
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the glow illuminating the room for just a brief second. You freeze as you stare up at the ceiling, almost too scared to look. Did he add another song? What if he changed his mind? What if you overstepped? Oh god. You should not have done that. What were you thinking?
You suck in a breath as you grab your phone, nervously tapping the screen that shows no new songs added, but a text from Jake.
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
JAKE POV
“Did you hear me, Jake?”
Your head snaps to the side, your mind refocusing on the conversation being had around you. Josh stares at you with a questioning look on his face, his arms crossed against his chest.
“What? Yeah,” you lie, “That sounds fine.”
“You’re not even listening to me. I asked if you knew what time the van was supposed to be here... What’s up with you? Where are you this morning?” he asks, his tone a little more defensive than usual.
“Huh?” Your eyes flick back to the elevator, your heart beating a little faster than usual as the caffeine starts to swirl around in your bloodstream. You know that any second Y/N is going to step off that elevator and join the rest of you in the lobby.
You can’t seem to shake the kiss from your mind, falling asleep last night playing it over and over in your head. The way her lips felt, soft and warm and so pink. You aren’t really sure why you decided to do it. You weren’t going to, but you’re glad you did. You’d thought of nothing else since, and after the little exchange you had after the fact, you were feeling something that you didn’t feel too often, if ever. Nervous.
You didn’t even know what you were going to say to her today. What do you say after something like that? Should you say anything at all? You know you pushed a professional boundary last night, on the very first night no less. She is your employee, and you are her boss and those two things typically don’t mix well. But you felt something, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and you are certain she must have felt it too.
You look back to Josh, suddenly realizing that if you’re feeling nervous, he’s going to pick up on it. You try to compose yourself, adjusting your jacket on your shoulders and your sunglasses on your nose before turning your full attention back to him.
“Sorry, just jet lag. I think it’s supposed to be here at 10:00,” you pause, glancing at your watch. “It’s 9:56 right now.”
“Since when do you wear a fuckin’ wrist watch? Are you eighty-five?” he quips, huffing a laugh.
You suck your teeth at him, raising a brow. “Since now, fuck you.”
He changes the subject, turning to Sam and Daniel just as the elevator chimes and the doors start to open. Your heart is beating erratically at this point, and you curse yourself for it. You should not be feeling like this. It was one kiss, Jake. It didn’t even mean anything. It was for show.
Right?
You swallow nervously, licking your lips as people start to step out of the elevator. You try to look like you’re engaged in the conversation happening in front of you, but you’re not. She won’t know that though. Your eyes are fixed on the elevator, waiting for your first glimpse of her this morning. She’s one of the very last to step out, her hair hanging in her face as she focuses on her phone. You hear Paul call her name, waving her over towards him and Wes with paperwork in hand.
She looks up just long enough to spot them, returning her gaze to her phone to finish up whatever it is she’s doing. She steps up to them, just out of your immediate sight, but you can still hear them talking as they greet her. Out of the corner of your eye you see Paul hand her the piece of paper he was waving, telling her that the venue has the official hospitality rider, but that the highlighted items needed to be picked up and brought to the venue by her. A chill runs up your spine. What did you request? Why can’t you remember what you asked for? Fuck.
She turns her head as Wes and Paul continue to talk. You can feel her eyes on you, burning into the side of your head as Josh drones on about German water quality. You want to look at her, in fact, you’re dying to see that same pink blush that colored her cheeks last night, but you don’t turn your head. You force yourself to pretend she isn’t even there. You stare off into the distance, letting your mind wander, the noise around you turning into a hum.
“Jake…” Josh shouts, snapping his fingers in front of your face, “Hello? Are you braindead suddenly?”
“Fuck, sorry. What…” you growl, refocusing again.
“Get with it man, I said the van is here. Let’s go,” he answers, nodding towards the door as he follows the rest of the crew outside.
You walk with your hands in your pockets, letting your thumb nail glide over each fingertip in an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You need to get your head right. Snap out of it. You fall to the back of the group, waiting for everyone to load into the two black vans, ready to take you to your venue for the evening. Before you could stop yourself you were looking over your shoulder for her, catching her eyes for the briefest moment before looking away. Fuck, she’s so pretty.
“You want the window?” Josh asks, elbowing your arm.
“Huh? Yeah that’s fine…” you answer blankly, your mind still flooded with the image of her. As you turn back to Josh you see his focus change, locking in on Y/N as she steps up to the two of you. The very last thing you expected.
“Hi, good morning, feeling any better?” she asks. You look to her, then to Josh, remembering he sent her out for medicine last night. You're completely frozen in place as the two of them speak, and you’re sure your face is showing exactly what you’re feeling. Panic.
Josh looks at you for a second, then back to Y/N, very obviously picking up on the nerves pulsing through you as he snickers. “Yes…I…am…Thank you again for doing that last night. I appreciate it.”
You can smell her perfume as it dances through the air, the same sweet floral smell from the plane yesterday. You can’t help but to turn your head and look at her, your eyes drifting to the column of her neck where you know the smell is even stronger. You imagine the way it would feel to kiss her there. The taste of her skin. The sounds she would make. The feeling of her rapid pulse beneath your lips…
Shit. No.
“No problem at all, Josh. Let me know if I can grab you anything else,” she smiles, “I’m off to the market!”
She looks at you for just a second waiting to see if you’re going to say anything, but you don’t, instead offering her a curt smile and nodding your head. Smooth. Really nice, Jake.
She walks away, heading towards the second van with Wes and the rest of management and you feel a wave of relief wash through. You had a little more time to get your head right before you talked to her. You let out a breath, your eyes flicking over to Josh who is looking at you with a knowing look on his face. You shake your head and walk away, ready to load into the van with your backpack slung over your shoulder. Your heart is beating fairly hard and you haven't even spoken to her. Why is she having this effect on you?
You settle on the bench seat, Josh and Ty sliding in next to you. You place your backpack between your legs and pull your phone from your coat pocket, pretending to busy yourself to avoid the conversation you already know is coming.
The app isn’t even open yet before Josh starts to speak, “Alright let’s hear it, Jake. ”
You know there’s no use in pretending to be busy, he won’t stop until you answer him. You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket letting out an aggravated sigh.
“Hear what, Josh? Why do you already want to start this morning, huh? Can’t I have a moment of peace?”
“Oh please, I could feel your fucking heart pounding like it was in my own chest!” He tilts his head to the side in an attempt to force the truth out of you. He knows he's got you cornered and he wants you to admit it.
You tilt your head mimicking him, giving him a look he knows well. You nod your head, silently telling him that you’ll talk later. Now is not the time or place for any of it.
He stares at you blankly for a second, finally relenting as he turns back towards Ty. Safe for now. You needed to figure this out, quick.
You ride to the venue, listening to everyone’s conversations but offering very little to them. You scroll through your phone, trying your best to keep to yourself, but perking your head up as Josh grabs your attention.
“That reminds me, I talked to Paul. He said it’s going to take a week or so to get more security over here. Corri said she applied for the work visas this morning. Should have some guys over here in less than a week at the latest.”
“Good. Could’ve used someone last night,” you grumble, immediately regretting even letting the words slip from your mouth.
Josh’s head snaps over to you, a serious look in his eyes. “What do you mean? At the airport?”
You know you can’t lie. He will know immediately. “No, um– Just after we checked in. It’s nothing.”
“Last I talked to you, you were ordering room service and going to bed?” he asks, genuinely confused. Fuck, fuck, figure it out Jake.
“Yeah, I did, just— A little thing late last night. Everything ended up being fine. Isolated incident. We’ve got more security coming, it's all good,” you say, hoping he won’t press you on it any further, but as he looks at you with a threatening scowl you know you’ll be recounting every last detail before the day is through.
—
Show days always bring along chaotic mornings that slowly mold into semi-peaceful afternoons, filled with warming your fingers up and psyching your mind up to perform. The four of you always try to keep show days generally the same, with giving yourselves a little bit of downtime before you have to arrive back at the venue after sound check. Today though, the day of the very first show, has already made your head feel like it is going to spin right off your neck. You can feel Josh’s prying eyes watching your every move, waiting for the opportune moment to jump down your throat again.
“Gonna go grab something to drink from the green room, you guys want anything?” Sam asks you and Josh as you fumble around with the wireless mechanisms on your guitar.
“Nah, I’ll get something in a minute,” you reply, watching as he and Danny descend the stairs off the stage and disappear out of sight.
Of course, within seconds your twin is inches from your face, somehow making himself seem bigger than you. “Alright, you gonna tell me about this little incident last night? Or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he presses, and you know damn well that if you don’t give him just the tiniest bit of explanation, he won’t let up. “Wouldn’t have happened to involve our new runner, would it?”
You sigh a heavy sigh, readjusting the blue-tinted glasses sitting on your nose. “Can you lay the fuck off for like two seconds? Jesus Christ…” you back away, anxiously rubbing your hand over your mouth as you try to think of what to even say.
“Don’t avoid the question, asshole. Tell me now. While everyone’s gone,” he goes on, closing in on you again.
You bite your cheeks in, still contemplating. You stay silent, instead strumming a single chord on your guitar in response to him. You hear it echo across the empty venue, smirking to yourself. Sounds perfect.
“Fuck you. Always doing that shit when you’re trying to avoid me. Drowning me out with your loud ass amps… alright. Fine,” Josh readjusts the hat on his head and stomps away across the stage. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go ask her.”
All the blood quickly drains from your body. “Okay, okay, fuck. Come here,” you hold your hand up and signal him back, because you know for a fact he actually would have gone and found her. You stretch the muscles in your neck, rolling your shoulder beneath your guitar strap.
“Y/N went out to a pub last night to get something to eat and have a drink, there was some creep there trying to take her home, wouldn’t let up. She didn’t tell Dean where she was going because it was so late, and she remembered I had… She had my number, so she asked me to come and walk her back to the hotel. That’s it.”
Josh eyes you with his lips pursed closed, trying to get a read if there was anything you were leaving out. He’s gonna know, of course he’s gonna know…
“...That’s it?”
“That’s it,” you concede. “It happened really fast and the place was just around the corner from the hotel. I made it there in like two minutes. Guy was being a complete asshole to her,” you shake your head in disgust at the memory.
Josh crosses his arms across his chest as he exhales, squinting his eyes. “Mmh, so you played hero, huh? I think there’s more to the story than your little rescue mission… but. So she just happened to have your phone number, and no one else’s? Like Paul’s perhaps?” You really need him to quit with the attitude.
“We sat together on the plane for like, a hundred hours, Josh. Yes. She has my phone number because we were talking about her job duties. She will get the rest of yours eventually, I’m sure. I was just first. Fuck…” you begin to wave him off as you start to feel overwhelmed with his twenty questions.
Luckily, Sam and Danny are coming back onto the stage now, the pounding of Danny’s repetitive kick drum drowning out the sound of Josh’s persistence.
Josh’s eyes are squinting at you again as he takes the microphone in his right hand, turning away from it just enough for you to hear him. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. As a wise man once said, it’s very interesting…”
—
HER POV
Your legs carry you quickly through the winding halls to the green room. You can barely see over the brown paper bags in your hands, loaded full to the top with the items on your list this morning. It was a little more difficult of a task than you anticipated, but the translator app on your phone proved to be your best friend. You knew you had to be quick and you did your best, hoping that the items you found would suffice.
You push the door open with your foot, looking for the empty table where the items needed to be set up. You saw a few things that the venue provided sitting on a mostly empty wooden table, and knew that’s where you needed to set up. You plop the heavy paper bags down, smiling as you notice a few drinks have already been scavenged.
You begin pulling things from the bags, setting up the fruit and vegetable trays, and starting to place a variety of drinks into an ice bucket. You pull the paper list from your back pocket, making sure you have everything out for each guy and that you didn’t miss anything in your hurried state. As you make your way down the list you hear the door swing open and a rumble of voices enter the room.
You turn to find Josh stepping into the room with Jake flanking him as they talk. Your breath instantly catches in your chest as you make eye contact with Jake through his tinted sunglasses. His hair is a little more wavy today, curling up at the ends and resting just below his shoulders. It looks soft and you know it probably smells good as it flies through the air as he walks. His black button up is hanging loosely on his body, a sliver of his chest visible, but you tear your eyes away from him and turn back to your task. You’re at work.
“There she is! How’s it going, Y/N? Things goin’ your way this morning?” Josh asks, walking over towards you with a smile.
It strikes you as strange, his over friendly greeting, especially when you’d talked more to Jake than to him and Jake hadn’t even said hello to you today. You shake off the feeling and return the sentiment, turning to face the both of them.
“Hi guys! Everything is good I think! Just getting all of this set up for you, sorry it took me so long. I was struggling with the German labels,” you smile, letting your eyes flick over to Jake. He’s standing quietly behind Josh, not saying much but listening intently, eyes locked in on you.
“Oh, no you’re fine, no rush at all. We’ve got hours until we go on,” he pauses, turning to Jake then back to you. “I heard about the little incident at the bar last night. Glad everything turned out okay for you, but just wanted you to know we’ve got some more security coming this week. Should have someone that can head out with you from now on,” Josh finishes, nodding his head. His phone starts to ring before you can respond and he quickly pulls it from his pocket, glancing down at the screen with a sly smile.
“Ahh, it’s Ty, I gotta take this. I’ll be back. Thanks for this, Y/N. Looks great!” he says, swiping a water bottle from the table and making his way out of the room as he answers the call.
You realize quickly that Jake did not follow him and is standing with his hands in his pockets eyeing the table behind you. Your mouth feels dry, any words you thought you would say suddenly stuck in your throat. You turn around and busy your hands trying to think of anything you can say that won’t sound stupid.
Your heart is pounding rapidly as you feel him moving towards you, taking the place next to you as he taps his fingers across the wooden table. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he is struggling in the same way you are. The tension between you is almost tangible.
You reach into the paper bag, pulling the box of beers from the bottom and setting them on the table. You knew this had to be his request, the rider stating that a case of local craft beer was required.
You push the box in front of him, looking at him as it slides across the table. “This was what was recommended for local beer. Was the best I could find, I didn’t know if you liked light beer or dark beer, so I guessed. The cashier couldn’t have been a day over nineteen, so I didn’t exactly trust his opinion, but–”
You watch his face shift into a smile, a dimple popping out on his cheek as he nods through a laugh, “This looks great, really.”
“Again, I couldn’t read anything in German, and the translator was really no help on this one,” you smile, feeling the tension between you starting to melt away.
He opens the box, pulling out the amber colored bottle and bringing it close to his face. He looks at it for a few seconds, attempting to read the label himself before finally shrugging his shoulders. “No clue what that says, but looks perfect. Thank you, Y/N.”
You feel yourself blushing at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and you hope he can’t see the heat spreading across your cheeks. He picks up the bottle and places the lid on the edge of the table, hitting it with his fist with just enough pressure to pop off the lid. It skitters across the table as he brings the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull of what you now see is a light beer.
“S’perfect,” he says, swallowing it down.. “You uh, you wanna try it?”
You feel a flash of panic wash over you. You can’t, right?
“I don’t think I can? Right? I’m at work. And I have like a thousand things to do,” you stammer, dying to say yes.
“S’just me, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he offers, peering at you above the frames of his sunglasses. You can see his brown eyes staring into yours, and you feel your insides melting into putty. You know you need to change the subject, and quick.
You quickly decide to decline the beer, knowing that you need every single ounce of clearheadedness for the evening you are about to endure. “Are you guys done already? That seemed… quick,” you pose, trying to turn your attention back to your duties to fill the awkward silence.
“Uh no, not quite, they’re just working with Josh right now,” he answers, stuffing his free hand in his pocket and taking another swig of his beer.
“Ah,” you reply, slotting a strand of hair behind your ear as the awkwardness continues to grow. You know he’s just being nice, but you wished to god he would just go somewhere else to save you both the anxiety of acknowledging the elephant in the room. Alright. Get it together, Y/N. You’re both adults, just speak your piece and get it over with. You take a quick breath, preparing yourself. “So, what version of the story did Josh get?”
Jake nearly spits out his beer as your words hit him. “What? What story?” he asks, wiping the dribble of beer off his chin.
“I know you told him about last night, he’s being so overly nice to me it almost seems fake. He’s buttering me up, isn’t he?” you say, a bit of bite in your tone. Truly, you wonder exactly what Jake told him, and if it was the same story you remember.
Jake sucks his teeth as he looks away from you. “A very condensed one. Don’t worry.” His words are blunt and pointed.
“Okay… so he doesn’t know about… ya know…” you dance around the word, you don’t even dare even say it.
“No,” he cuts you off. “No. I didn’t go into that much detail. It… it didn’t even matter anyway, right?”
…It didn’t matter?
It didn’t matter. Oh.
“Right. No. Didn’t matter at all,” you agree, feeling the knife turning in your chest. “We had to do what we had to do to get out of there.”
“Yeah, was nothing.”
Nothing?
It’s quiet and awkward again as you try to brush off your feelings, suppressing the memory of the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, his body pressing up against yours…
You’ve kissed a lot of people in your life, and you’re mature enough to know the difference between when someone wants to kiss you, and when someone just…is kissing you. And though you hate to admit it to yourself, Jake wanted to kiss you. There was no doubt about it. Chemistry is tangible. And the tension that formed between you last night during those few short seconds was nothing short of it. Pure chemistry. Ease. Like it was natural. And you weren’t too dumb to realize it.
But… apparently he was.
Suddenly you hear the sound of the bass strumming out into the air, signaling that it was time to get things going again.
“Right. But uh, sounds like I gotta um, get back out there. So… thanks for um, thanks for the beers,” Jake backpedals and turns away toward the door as you return to your duties, busying your mind and hands again. Fuck, that couldn’t have gone any worse.
You watch as he slams his body into the metal exit door, but stopping short when it doesn’t budge. He pushes on it again, but it stands firm. You watch him struggle for just a few seconds before you decide to help him out.
“Pull, Jake,” you say, stifling a laugh.
He yanks on the handle, the door flying open before him. “Oh, yeah. Got it.”
You can see the pink rise to his cheeks as he makes his quick exit, and the laugh you were stifling finally busts through. You’d managed to get Jake Kiszka flustered.
The sounds of the whole band echo down the hall, and you know you have a few free minutes to yourself, without the risk of one of them barging in again. Your mind drifts into autopilot as you finish setting up, replaying the last few minutes over and over in your head.
1. Josh knows. Well, Josh knows something.
2. The kiss… apparently it didn’t mean anything to Jake. Just a careless action to get the weird man off your back. Of course it didn’t mean anything to him. He’s a famous rock star, he probably kisses girls all the time… right? And makes playlists for them. And adds his favorite songs to them just so they can listen along. And tells them that he fully intends to kiss them again. Right?
3. He was flustered leaving through that door just now. He fumbled. He blushed. People that don’t care don’t blush. That’s just basic science.
Everything is overwhelming your thoughts; you need assistance, and you need it now. You take one last look at the table in front of you, deciding that it is to your liking before dashing out the door to the back exit. You pull your phone from your pocket and bring up Ruth’s contact, hearing it ring out just a couple of times before her voice is yelling your name on the other end.
“Shit, about time! I’ve been fucking dying over here!” she shouts into your ear, her voice full of excitement and rush. “I’ve been scrolling their instagrams and TikToks and shit all. Fucking. Day, Y/N. When were you gonna tell me they’re all hot as fuck, huh? And they’re brothers?! Like real life brothers, except the one, right? But they were kids when they met?! Why is that so cute? Imagine having that much talent in one household. Shit, in one town! I bet their parents were exhausted like, always. And their MUSIC… hello? The guitarist is mindblowing, dude. And you kissed that man? On the lips?! Like full on contact, right? Was there tongue? Did he get into it? Where were you? I need to know all of these things in massive detail stat, bitch.” Ruth is absolutely rambling, and you know if you don’t cut her off soon, you will never get a chance to speak at all.
“Yes, Ruthie, I kissed the hot guitarist,” you confirm quietly, glancing around to be sure you’re alone. “No, not really any tongue. We were in a restaurant, and the vibe was kinda strange, so. It didn’t last long, but god, it was hot…” you trail off, reminiscing for just a second. You’re truly unable to get the feeling of his lips out of your head. “Yes, three brothers, two twins, one honorary brother that might as well be. I haven’t gotten a chance to truly get to know them all yet, so my details are skimpy. But listen, I’m trying to stay professional, okay–”
“Hun, if you’re lip-locking with that brown-eyed man on the first day you are wayyyyyyy past professional, I’m just saying,” she wails into a condescending laugh.
“No I’m fucking not!” you yell back, fully prepared to tell her exactly why it was warranted. “Listen, here’s what happened…” you do as she says, and go into grave detail about the events on the plane, and in the restaurant, and the sweet additions to the playlist when you got back to your hotel room. You spared no detail because if Ruth is good at anything, it’s collecting specifics and cataloging them away, only to one day effortlessly put them all together into one big beautiful puzzle laid out for you on a shining silver platter. She has a knack for thinking of things realistically rather than living in a fairy tale, and you’re thankful for it. She keeps your sometimes wandering thoughts in check.
“Shit, babe… what are you gonna do?” her voice was calmed now that you’ve caught her up.
“I don’t know, everything is just… happening really fast.” The early evening breeze blows your hair, and you can hear the distant chatter of their fans lined up and camping just around the corner of the building. It’s almost showtime.
“I know what’s gonna happen,” Ruth states matter of factly. “He’s gonna add another song soon, you watch.”
“You think? He left things kind of… awkward just now, I really don’t think that he meant what he said last night, he was just caught up in–”
“Y/N, he wouldn’t say he fully intends to kiss you after you tell him to Do It Again… men lie but that seems… I dunno…” she goes on. “Just, don’t make me wait so long between now and the next thing, okay? I know you’re busy kicking ass but please keep me informed…” she begs.
“I will babe. I actually think it’s time for me to go. I promise I will text you tonight, okay?”
“I’ll be staring at my phone. Good luck,” she replies, and you end the call with a quiet goodbye.
—
You take special care wrapping the steaming hot tea bag around the spoon, squeezing out the water before tossing it in the trash. Your eyes scan the table for the Whiskey, pouring in a shot or so to mix with the honey at the bottom. Josh’s instructions were very clear and you have made sure to follow them exactly, not wanting to miss a single step. You stir up the boiling hot drink and push it to the side, ready to start on Danny’s. You grab the metal cup and add a scoop of ice, your eyes searching for the bottle of Tequila.
You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pour the tequila into the cup, topping it off with soda water. You pull your phone out as you wait for the fizz to subside, but the sight on the screen steals away your focus.
‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
Oh my god Ruth was right.
You quickly swipe open the notification with shaking hands, waiting as the shitty venue wi-fi tries to load the playlist. Isn’t he getting dressed right now? Isn’t he busy? Why is he doing this?
It finally loads and you scroll to the bottom, laughing to yourself as you see the song he added two minutes ago, ‘Back In Black’ by AC/DC. You know the song well, but much like you did last night, you search your mind for what he is trying to say. You think on the lyrics, nothing really sticking out to you in regards to the situation the two of you have found yourself in, but you press play anyway, listening to the familiar and catchy intro. It has to mean something, right? You nod your head along with the song as you finish making everyone’s drinks, blushing to yourself as you realize that he was thinking about you.
Should you reply? Is there even a response to that? You don’t even really know what he is trying to say. You pick up your phone from the table and begin to search through your favorites, seeing if there is anything that could serve as a worthwhile reply but you’re quickly interrupted by the door being flung open and Paul grabbing your attention.
“Two minutes ‘til stage, guys are walking,” he says, and just like that he disappears again.
You shove your phone in your pocket and snatch up all the drinks, quickly following after him with your armful of drinks. Your heart starts to race, you can feel the adrenaline filling the building, the ground is rumbling with the sound of the intro music and the screams of anxious fans.
You position yourself at the base of the stairs, knowing they will grab their drinks from you as they make their way onto the stage. The chaos and commotion backstage is overwhelming, and you find yourself starting to pick up on the nervous, frazzled energy. Sam is the first to spot you with an eager grin, plucking the grapefruit Topo Chico from your hand as he scurries across the stage to place it on his amp. Daniel is not far behind him, drumsticks in hand as he approaches you with a shy smile.
“One of those for me?” he asks playfully, reaching for his metal cup.
“All yours! Have a good show!” you answer, watching him walk up the stairs and towards his kit.
The lights are starting to dim, the music growing louder as the time draws closer. You don’t see Josh, or Jake for that matter, and you find it a little strange that there was no drink request for Jake, but you chalk it up to him likely not having time to drink much during the show. Suddenly Josh appears from the hallway, a vision in white satin, looking almost ethereal. He is frantically putting in his in-ears, and reaching for his mic, eyes locking on you as you hold out his tea towards him.
“Ahh, excellent, thank you so much, let’s have a good show, yeah?” he smiles, squeezing your shoulder as he bounds up the stairs to place his drink on Danny’s platform. You’re so caught up in watching Josh float around the stage in a cloud of white chiffon and crystals that you don’t notice that Jake is walking towards you.
When you do turn around you find him only a few feet away, the stage lights catching the black beads of his suit coat, sparkling like onyx. The satin suit is fit to his body, leaving very little to the imagination. His jacket is open, his chest bare save for a few silver necklaces he seems to always be wearing. This is the most of him you’d seen at this point, and the definition of his chest and the lingering tan on his skin has you breaking out into a cold sweat. You swallow harshly as you see the eyeliner he has added to his waterline, and you feel yourself physically backing up to brace yourself on the stair rail behind you. Holy shit.
You find yourself wishing you had a drink for him, anything actually, just to have an excuse to talk to him. His guitar tech meets him as he walks, twisting the knob on his wireless receiver and handing Jake the vintage red Gibson. He tosses the strap over his shoulder, positioning it across his body and releasing his hair from beneath the strap. You watch him as he mouths a muffled ‘thank you’ to Johnny, giving him a grateful smile as he continues to walk.
The stage lights behind you have shifted, and the music is coming to a close. He has to be on stage in seconds but it’s as if he is on his own time, moving so effortlessly through the dimly lit wing. The lights hit him just right and his eyes meet yours in a smug grin. Suddenly the song makes sense. His suit is completely custom, hand beaded, all black satin. Fucking hell, the cockiness of this man.
You expect him to climb the stairs to meet his brothers, but instead he steps up to you, resting his hand on the body of his guitar. “Nothing for me?” he asks, arching a brow and flashing you a sideways smile.
“The– the list! There wasn’t anything on the list for you, I–”
The lights overhead are starting to flash, the crew calling for thirty seconds through the walkie-talkies. You glance around panicked that you clearly missed the memo on a drink for Jake. Fuck!
He smiles at you as he laughs, “I’m just kidding, I don’t put it on the list with theirs. I bring my own.”
“Well where is it?!” you ask, a hint of panic in your voice.
“Ah, I left it in the greenroom. Was a bit…busy with something else,” he says, trying to stifle a smile.
You can barely hear him, doing your best to read his lips over the shrill screaming coming from the crowd. He seems to sense this, leaning towards you and placing his hand on your shoulder. His lips brush against your ear as his fingertips press into your skin. You can feel his guitar pressed against your stomach, his fingers guarding the strings, “Do you know where my backpack is?” he asks, whispering into your ear.
You shake your head, and truth be told the proximity of this man’s mouth to your body has you unable to even remember your own name, let alone where his backpack is.
His fingers tap your shoulder as he holds it, pulling away his head just slightly to look at you. He licks his lips and leans back in, “It’s in the corner of the dressing room, by the couch. Go find it for me? My drink is in there.”
“Jake, stage left go,” the walkie calls out, and he pulls away again, giving you a smug smile.
You look at him, taking him in completely before he steps onto the stage. “Wait, Jake! Your in-ears! Where are your monitors?!” you shout in a panic.
He smiles and laughs as his hand squeezes your bicep, tilting his head down a little and letting his eyes peer into yours, “I don’t wear in-ears, baby.”
He pulls away quickly, sprinting up the steps, looking over his shoulder at you one last time before disappearing out of view. Baby? Did he just call you baby? Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath. You feel frozen in place, only spinning your body enough to watch the four of them take their places on the platform at the back of the stage. Jake is on the very end, running a hand through his hair, just as the music stops and the curtain falls in front of them. The crowd screams violently as Josh starts to speak, nodding to Jake to kick things off.
Danny jumps down off the platform and onto his kit, as Sam prances down the steps with his bass. The guitar sounds fill the venue as Jake starts to make his way down the shiny metallic steps. His eyes flick over to the side stage, catching yours for a moment as a smile lights up his face. You are in complete shock, surely this is not the man you kissed last night. The man that was stumbling over his words today, and pushing a pull door…?
His hand lifts from the guitar for just a second as he motions a signal for ‘drink’ to you as if he’s holding an invisible cup to his lips. You quickly snap out of it when you remember his instructions. You tear yourself away, making your way back to the green room in search of his backpack. The room is quiet when you enter, empty, not a soul in sight. You can hear the rumble of the bass in your chest as your eyes scan the room for the black leather backpack, finally spotting it behind the couch.
You walk over to it, crouching down in front of it and lifting the flap. You unzip the top finding it full to the brim. Your hands are shaking as you carefully sift through his things. His phone is on the very top of the pile, a black leather case with an embossed ‘JTK’ on the bottom right corner. Your heart flutters in your chest knowing that he adds the songs to your playlist from this very phone. You toss it aside, continuing to look through the bag, your fingers snagging on his tangled pile of headphones. You work quickly to untangle them, wrapping the cord around itself in a neat coil before dropping them back into the bag. Your hands find a change of clothes, a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt nestled under a pair of printed black boxers. Your breath catches as you realize what you’re touching but you try not to think too much of it. Find his drink.
Your hands feel around at the very bottom of the bag, finding dozens of guitar picks, a capo, a few hair ties, what feels like maybe his wallet, a glasses case, and a passport book. Your fingers land on something glass, and you pull it from the bag, but quickly find out it’s not what you’re looking for. This is a bottle of cologne, fairly expensive from the looks of it. You look around the room before pulling off the small silver cap, and breathing in the scent you remember from last night. Fuck it smells so good.
Put it away, Y/N.
You push everything over to the other side of the bag, finally spotting what you were looking for front and center. You grab the neck of the wine bottle, pulling out the entirely full bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Interesting choice for him, but you guess you don’t really know too much about him just yet.
You quickly zip up his bag and rush over to the drink table, grabbing the metal chalice and filling it to the brim with his white wine. It sloshes over the edge a bit as you rush back out to the stage, doing your very best not to spill it in its entirety before it even makes it to him.
You’re positively out of breath by the time you make it to the stairs, your hand dripping with the sticky wine as you watch Jake just stepping into a guitar solo. He walks across the front of the stage engaging with the crowd on the barricade, his fingers moving faster than lightning through a song you can honestly say you’ve never heard. You know you will get to know these songs very well over the next few months, and what better way to hear them than live.
You peek around the curtain as you watch him crouch down, standing quickly to throw his head back, the faint echo of his voice as he yells to his guitar drifting to the side stage. His body is covered in sweat and his hair sticks to his neck as he catches sight of you with his drink. You hear a few people talking behind you but you can’t seem to care, or rip your eyes away from him. He is a completely different person on stage than the man you sat next to on the plane, and even in the bar last night, and to be quite honest, you didn’t know which version of him you wanted more.
JAKE POV
The spotlight descends away from you as you finish out your solo, the crowd already going absolutely wild. It feels so good to be back here again, allowing yourself to get immersed in the feeling of the instrument in your hands and the effect it has on the people listening and watching. Sweat is already pouring from your face and chest, and you’re only three songs in. For a second, you’d completely forgotten that you’d sent Y/N on a mission for your drink.
You hope she’s finding it, given you had kind of hidden the backpack behind a couch to stay out of plain sight. In the back of your mind, you quickly picture her picking through the bag stuffed with your things, and you smirk when you realize she probably is seeing a bit more into your personal life than she had anticipated, tonight. But for some reason, you don’t feel embarrassed by it.
You back up toward your amps as Josh continues to sing, and you see her from the corner of your eye, standing side-stage with your chalice in hand. Oh, so she’s a good listener. Noted.
Now that you aren’t at the center of attention, you realize you are a bit thirsty. The four of you finish out the song and the lights go down, and you take the opportunity to run to her to grab your drink.
You haphazardly grab it as she hands it to you with utmost caution, handling it as if it were made of gold.
“Shit!” You can’t help but laugh out loud, noticing that the rather large cup is filled all the way to the brim with your wine. You take a big gulp down to empty it a little.
“Sorry, sorry careful, I didn’t know how much you wanted and I assumed you wouldn’t want refills!” she crams all her words together into one big sentence as you chuckle at her again. Damn, even in the dim lighting you can see how pretty she is. Your heart literally skips a beat as she finally meets your eyes.
“S’okay, this is perfect. Thank you…” you whisper as you place a quick hand onto her waist, backing yourself away from her. Should you have touched her there? Maybe not, but it just happened. You make your way back over to set the cup down safely in a place you know it won’t spill. You make quick eye contact with Danny as he waits for you to cue him in to the next one, but his look is laced with something else, curiosity. He definitely saw your encounter. And he knows that you normally don’t place your hand ever-so-gently on your runner’s waists. Fuck fuck fuck.
You return his prying eyes with an upturned chin, silently telling him to mind his own business. You finish out the show, feeling good again as you begin to show off just a little. You always show off, but for some reason, this time feels more important. You have someone to show off for.
You glance to the side stage again and see that Y/N is standing with Ty, Mia, and Lyla as they watch the show. That feels strange, you think to yourself, seeing her grouped together with all your brothers’ significant others, getting along and talking closely. Your stomach churns at the thought of actually liking it.
No, Jake. No. You know this isn’t right.
Twenty minutes later you find yourself waving goodbye to what was one hell of a crowd, and you join the other three as you descend the stairs to backstage. Your ears are ringing as you walk through the darkness toward the light of the hallway, realizing that she is the first person you see when you finally get there. She’s standing with Paul, listening to his instructions as she hands each of you a clean black towel. You’re last in line, and you grin a little as she tosses your towel to you instead of the gentle handoff she did for your brothers.
The tiniest smile crosses her face as she keeps intent eye contact with Paul, taking in all of his words when you know her mind is racing with thoughts of you. Her face blushes with pink as you pass her. That wasn’t unnoticed, babe.
You rush back to the green room to try and beat Danny to the shower, knowing that he is probably already stripped down and getting inside. When you find your prediction to be true, you decide to take off your jacket and kick back on the black leather couch to finish off your heavy-handed pour of wine.
“You guys wanna go to this bar I found?” Josh proposes.
“Bit dangerous right after a show, don’t you think?” Sam chimes as he hangs his satin jacket on the rolling rack.
“This one is like, 6 blocks away and kind of hidden. Probably won’t be anyone there, I did some research. Plus they have Fernet Branca. I need a few shots to keep this fuckin’ cold at bay,” Josh explains as Ty starts to help him remove the rhinestones from his face.
“Bleugh, I don’t see how you drink that nasty shit,” Sam says with disgust.
Josh scoffs at him. “Might be nasty, but it fucking works!”
You lean over the arm of the couch and retrieve your backpack, sifting through to find your clean change of clothes. You smile as you realize she more than likely saw your black boxers covered in flamingos. As you zip the bag back up, you notice your earbuds sitting at the bottom of the bag. They had been rolled into a perfect flat coil, with the wire tucked and tied into itself. Your heart sinks when you realize she had taken the time to sort them for you, probably remembering the mess of tangled wires on the plane.
Should you add a song?
No. You did already. Get it together. This woman has your mind running marathons.
But a bar as a distraction? Perfect.
“Yeah, let’s go check it out. I’m getting a shower,” you make the executive decision as you stand from the couch, slapping Danny’s towel-covered ass as you pass him on your way to the bathroom.
——
“Jake, you comin’ or what?” Sam asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
“Yeah, give me a sec,” you answer, pretending to fumble through your backpack. He nods and heads out the door with Lyla, leaving you alone in the greenroom.
You haven't seen Y/N since you came off the stage, panting, filled with adrenaline, and in desperate need of a towel. You showered quickly and changed into your clothes, hoping you wouldn’t miss her coming into the green room. You were going to ask her to join you at the bar, and you were hoping she would say yes. Though, you haven’t seen her, and now thirty minutes have passed and the van is leaving. You consider sending her a text, but remember there was no response to your last song. It had been your feeble attempt to lighten the tension from earlier in the day, so you figure you should let it be. Tonight was probably crazy for her, and you want her to ride the post show high as long as she can.
You throw your backpack over your shoulder and make the trek to the van, finding everyone rearing and ready to hit the bar. A drink does sound good, a stiff one. You slam the door shut and let out a sigh, feeling the van pull out of the gates and into traffic. You see a few fans lined up against the fence hoping to catch a peek at the four of you, so you all wave through the window praying they won’t follow you.
You kick yourself for being this caught up over a woman you met only yesterday. This was not supposed to happen. You wanted to clear your head, not screw it up even more. You took in a deep breath, letting it pass through your lips as the van rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the bar. You couldn’t read the name of the bar, something foreign in burned out neon, but Josh seemed to know that you were at the right place. You all stepped out of the van, making your way into the decently crowded bar. You were thankful that no one seemed to notice you, the group of you making your way to the back of the bar and piling into a round wooden booth.
Josh volunteers to grab the first round, and you signal to him for your usual, not needing to say a word for him to understand. Lyla and Mia instantly strike up a conversation about the show, Sam and Daniel hanging on their every word. You listen to what they’re saying, pretending to be engaged in the conversation, but your mind wanders quickly. The exhaustion of your body is starting to set in, mixed with the already present jet lag, you feel yourself spiraling quickly. You know that drink will bring you back to life though, and you hope Josh hurries.
You wonder where Y/N is. What she is doing. What she thought of the show. If she felt that same electricity you did when you touched her. You quickly shake your head of the thoughts, returning to the present when Josh sets your drink down in front of you.
He and Ty slide in next to you as the rest of the group starts to sip on their own drinks. You straighten in your seat, trying to give everyone a little more space as Josh starts to speak.
“Hell of a kick off…”
“Yeah, no fuck ups either,” Sam adds, elbowing Danny.
“Jake? Notes?” Josh nods, waiting for you to add your two cents.
“Yeah, yeah I think it was a good show, need to keep that energy for the rest of the run. Think that transition from Heat Above to Highway could be a little tighter if we’re gonna keep that on the set, but–”
“You seemed especially talkative tonight, thought I was gonna have to turn my monitors up to drown out your screaming,” Josh jokes. You cut your eyes at him in annoyance. It’s not like you could help it.
“Only screaming to drown out the sound of your voice, brother,” you quip, taking a sip of your drink. Tequila soda, extra lime.
“Please, I think you were just having a little Jake moment because of a certain someo–”
“Fuck off, Josh, seriously,” you spit.
“Oh, who, the runner? Y/N?” Danny asks, turning to face you with a shit eating grin.
“Yep.” Josh answers, popping the ‘p’.
You send a threatening look to Josh, and he knows he needs to drop it. “I don’t know what you’re all on and on about. Can you just drop it? Christ.”
“You sure man? I saw that little exchange side stage. Looked more than friendly,” Danny adds, and of course you knew it was coming.
Lyla sends you a questioning look, and you quickly look away before she has time to examine things any further. Her gaze travels to Mia, the two of them looking at each other before turning back to you.
“Anyway, Daniel…you and Sam need to watch my cue for Highway, I’ll let Josh do his little spiel, he’ll signal me, and I’ll signal you. I don’t think anyone noticed tonight, but let's not do that again, yeah?”
Everyone nods in agreement as you toss back the rest of your drink in frustration. You motion for Josh and Ty to let you out, desperate to get out of this booth and get another drink. You make your way to the bar, standing amongst the other patrons waiting their turn. You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping to see something, anything from her, but it's empty, the same as it was ten minutes ago. Should you text her?
No. Stop thinking about her, fuck.
You order a new drink, a double this time, hoping it will help you clear your head of this woman. You weave through the crowd with your drink in hand as you make your way back to the table, however when it comes into sight you see none other than Paul, Wes and Y/N standing in front of it.
You take a large sip from your glass, clearing your throat and trying to regain your composure. You definitely weren’t expecting her to show up. A wave of nerves washes over you as you see her standing there, dark jeans and a black top, her hair hanging down her back in waves. Your eyes travel straight back to her ass, hugged so perfectly in her jeans you almost have to head to the bathroom to fix yourself. You drag your eyes back up towards the table, your chest growing warm as you watch her talk to Josh, secretly wishing it was you.
You approach the group, laying a hand on Paul's shoulder to get his attention. He turns to you and shakes your hand with a smile, followed by Wes. You slide into the booth next to Mia, setting your drink in front of you as Josh continues to talk to Y/N.
“Y/N, why don’t you hang with us? We’re more fun than these old guys,” Josh laughs, playfully slapping Paul’s arm.
She turns to look at Paul who is shrugging his shoulders and nodding, “Wouldn’t hurt to get to know these fools.”
You can see a look of hesitation on her face, her eyes flick to Josh and Sam, then to Daniel and finally to you. They linger for a second before she nods her head, agreeing to spend her evening with the group of you. She takes a seat next to Ty as he pushes Josh over to make room for her. You smile a little watching her get settled, pushing her hair behind her ear as she nervously peers up at you from across the table. The corner of your lip turns up as you look at her, and hers does the same. You know that all eyes are on you now, though, so you try to seem as casual as possible.
“You need a drink?” you ask, letting your eyes meet hers, almost sparkling in the bar lighting. So fucking pretty, fuck. You are so, so fucked.
She shrugs and nods, looking around at what everyone else is drinking as she bites her lips. “How about a Tito’s and Sprite, two limes?” she asks, almost as if nervous to say it.
You nod your head once, silently commending her for not ordering a fucking cranberry vodka.
“Got it, anyone else?” you ask, looking at the group as they shake their heads.
“I’ll be back,” you say, standing from the booth and making your way back to the bar you just came from. You don’t have to wait long this time, ordering her drink and making sure they don’t skip on the limes. You’re kind of glad you are the one getting her drink, giving you another minute or two to shake the nerves in your system that arose just from seeing her.
You glance over your shoulder towards the booth, watching as she talks animatedly with everyone at the table. You feel a little twinge of happiness as you look at her, seeing her fit in so effortlessly with the group. You grab the glass off the bartop and start to make your way back over to them, weaving through a thick crowd of people congregating in the middle of the bar.
You place her drink in front of her before taking your seat again, her cheeks blushed pink as she looks at you. “Just let me know how much and I can venmo whoever.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I got it,” you answer, giving her a tight lipped smile.
“I was just telling Y/N that I’m gonna have to fire Mia and hire her to start making me drinks from now on. Your wine glass was practically overflowing all night,” he laughs as Mia scoffs. He tosses his arm around her, kissing her cheek as he whispers in her ear.
“To be fair, I did drink it all,” you offer, tipping your head towards her. Her cheeks are red, and you can tell she’s a little embarrassed about the whole thing. She sips at her drink, swallowing down the bubbly alcohol. You can see her tension ease a little as she puts down the glass, her eyes meeting yours again. The moment is quickly zapped as Josh grabs her attention.
“You know, I did happen to look over and see you a few times. Seemed like you were enjoying the show,” Josh pauses, smiling at her, “Thought I was going to have to come pick your jaw up off the ground after The Archer.”
Her face blushes a deep red now, clearly embarrassed that Josh caught her in what she thought was a private moment. Part of you wants to jump over the table and choke him, but you don’t, just clearing your throat instead to warn him. Y/N sips her drink a little faster now through a laugh, clearly needing it to kick in a little quicker.
She was really watching you?
“Yeah, you were kinda on one tonight, weren’t you Jake?” Daniel adds, chewing the end of the straw in his drink. “They were crazy over on your side. You were givin’ it to ‘em.”
“S’that why you were showing out tonight? Trying to impress all your little fans?” Sam adds, quirking an eyebrow at you.
Josh scoffs a laugh and raises his eyebrows, looking over to Y/N, “Oh, I’m thinking it was someone else entirely, Sammy boy.”
Instinctively your foot connects with his leg as you kick him in an effort to shut him up. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, clearly uncomfortable and deeply embarrassed, on her first night no less. Her eyes start to flick around the table as everyone looks at her, before falling down to the table as she runs her finger around the rim of her glass.
“Don’t listen to them, Y/N,” Mia jumps in. “They spend 50% of their time bagging on each other and the other 50% trying to embarrass us.” Her act of heroism obviously makes Y/N feel a little more comfortable, and you realize that sometimes you and your brothers truly have no filters at all. “Just tell them to fuck off.” She adds a wave of her hand through the air, showing that she was used to it, now.
“Oh shit, heard about your little situation at the bar last night, Y/N. Heard there was some trouble,” Sam says, leaning into the table as the volume of the crowd starts to drown him out. “Glad Jake was able to come to your rescue.” God damnit, do they ever shut up?
“Oh yeah, Y/N you can always call Dean and tell him where you’re going so you don’t have to deal with Jake if you need something. I’m sure Dean is a lot more pleasant than Jake is at midnight, anyway,” Josh barks, sending another shooting wave of annoyance through your chest. Little did he know that you were perfectly fucking pleasant with her at midnight last night. More than pleasant, actually.
“I’ll remember that next time, Josh,” she replies, a little sound of defeat in her voice.
You know what Josh’s next move is going to be, he’s going to start prying her with questions of what exactly happened. He knows you gave him the condensed version, and knowing him, he’s bound and determined to get the truth out of one of you. So you decide to stop him before he starts.
“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal, I had just downed a drink before she texted, I hardly remember telling the guy to fuck off. We can just pretend the whole thing never even happened, right Y/N?” you propose, immediately regretting the words as soon as they slipped from your mouth. You didn’t want to pretend it never happened. You’ve relived it over and over and over since it did…
Her face falls a bit as she nods her head. “Yeah, no. Never even happened. I’ll…remember not to bother you next time. Knee-jerk reaction.” Her voice is a bit pointed as she tries to defend herself without being too bitchy about it. You watch as she bites the insides of her cheeks, probably wanting to lash out at all of you. She felt threatened by that guy, and she called for help. You feel like shit, she texted you because she was panicked, and was most familiar with you… hell, you’d just spent an entire day on the plane together. She probably doesn’t even have Dean’s number yet…shit. Your choice of words had bitten you in the ass yet again. You’ve definitely fucked up.
But the guys absolutely can not know that you kissed her…
The conversation thankfully takes a turn and you’re able to disassociate from it for a minute, watching as she struggles to stay involved, while also completely avoiding eye contact with you. Yeah, definitely fucked up.
She finishes the rest of her drink and slides out from the booth, excusing herself to the restroom. She flips her hair behind her shoulder and tosses her purse over it too, and you find yourself wishing that you could reach out and grab her hand to stop her. Her eyes stay fixed to the floor as she flits away into the crowd, completely disappearing from your view.
The minutes pass by as you flow in and out of the conversations, your subconscious reminding you every so often that she isn’t back yet. Your eyes repeatedly scan the crowd and over to Paul and Wes, and each time you find them still seated alone at the bar. Where did she really go?
You start to get anxious as you finally decide to say fuck it. You pull the tiny pointless straw from your drink, biting it between your teeth as you pull your phone from your pocket, bringing up her text thread.
You
12:29AM: Where did you go?
You chomp the straw nervously as you move it around in your mouth, feeling it poking and prodding against your gums. You watch your message turn to read, but no reply bubble pops up. You’re facing the door, and you haven’t seen a soul pass through it, so you know she hadn’t snuck out. Seven entire more minutes go by, and you realize she’s not going to respond. You need to make this right. You need to tell her last night meant more than nothing to you.
Suddenly you get the brazen idea to go ahead and add another song to the playlist, thinking that maybe since it worked last night…
You pull up your music app and hit the search box, already knowing exactly what song you are going to add. ‘Go Outside’ by The Cults. Perfect. Straight and to the point.
Josh continues to finish out a story you’d already heard twice today as your knee begins to bounce up and down with anticipation. Sure enough, a few minutes later, you get the notification that she, too, has added another song. Yes. Fucking finally.
‘Gone’ by JR JR magically appears at the bottom of the playlist, and you can’t stop the confused scowl that crosses your face. What the fuck? There’s no way she’s gone… You’ve been watching the door…
You decide to cut the shit, and text her. If anything, you’ll apologize for how everything had gone, and let her continue on with her night. You couldn’t go another second without letting her know how sorry you were that things had gone so awry. You pull up your text thread, seeing the urgent messages from last night still present on your screen.
You
12:42AM: I know you’re not gone, I’m facing the door. Meet me out back, please?
You don’t even stick around to wait for her reply as you lock your phone and slam it onto the table, standing from your seat to hurriedly head out to the back patio area. “I’ll be back, going for a smoke,” you announce, and thankfully, no one says they want to join you.
You make your way to the back door, pushing through the heavy metal and into the enclosed seating area. The cold breeze almost takes your breath away. You find that it is fairly big, but thankfully completely empty. The concrete slab is lined with old picnic tables and rickety bar stools that look like they’ve seen better days. You take a seat on top of one of the tables, sliding a blunt out of your front pocket and lighting it to life, letting the smoke fill your lungs and hopefully give you the courage to speak your mind freely.
Come on, Y/N, don’t let me down…
—
You look up from the cherried tip of the blunt, hearing a pair of boots making their way across the concrete. You look at her as she makes her way towards you, the wind blowing her hair across her face. The sleeves on her shirt are surely not thick enough to brave the cold air, and you find yourself smiling as you remember finding her in the same predicament on the plane. You blow out a ribbon of smoke from your lips just as she steps up to you, her face a little sullen and her cheeks still flushed. You didn’t know if she was going to come. You hoped she would, and now that she has, it’s time to fix things.
She crosses her arms across her chest, her hands rubbing her arms to ward off the cold. You place the blunt between your lips as you slide your corduroy over your arms and toss it around her. She doesn’t fight you this time, she accepts it, sticking her arms through the sleeves and pulling it tightly across her chest. Your heart beats a little faster seeing her wrapped in it as you pinch the blunt between your fingers.
“So you didn’t leave after all…” you say, turning to look at her. She doesn’t really answer you, just looks down at the glowing blunt in your hand. You can tell she wants to say something, but she’s not letting herself, and you want to know why.
“Why did you say that you did?” you ask, flicking the ash with your thumb.
She bites her lip as she turns out to look out into the distance. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out, turning back to look at you. “Because I was embarrassed. Those people in there? They are my bosses. You are my boss. Now, their first real impression of me is that I’m some helpless idiot that needs a man to rescue her. That I am some dim-witted awestruck groupie or something. I just– This is not the first impression I wanted to make, not with them, and definitely not with you.”
You immediately stop her, knowing that her fears are completely unwarranted. “No, no. None of that is true. None of us think that. I swear. They are just picking on you because they actually do like you. You heard Mia. You would know if they didn’t. I promise. You were amazing today, truly. You made a great first impression with them. And with me,” you offer, hoping it will ease her anxiety.
She nods a little, giving you a shy smile as you nod back at her hoping to bring her out of her shell a bit. “Did you like the show, at least? Ignore what Josh said, he’s an idiot.”
“Yeah, yeah I did. Jake, you…” she pauses, shaking her head to try and articulate her thought, “You were like a completely different person up there, I–”
You swallow nervously, licking your lips, “Yeah that, kinda happens. I don’t know why or how, but something changes when I’m out there with my guitar. But, I promise it’s still normal me under all of it,” you respond, nudging her arm with your elbow, trying to get a smile out of her.
She smiles enough that you let it go, but you can tell that she’s still shaken from earlier, and you know it’s time to make your amends. “The stuff inside with the guys…That’s not what’s bothering you, is it…” you pause, meeting her eyes, “It’s what I said.”
She nods a little, shrugging her shoulders as if she’s nervous to admit it, and you feel a shock of guilt run through you. You blow out a stream of smoke into the air above you, reaching your hand out to softly touch her arm as she sits on the stool in front of you.
“It’s not true, what I said. I– didn’t mean that,” you confess, your voice a little lower and more sincere.
Her eyes flick up to yours, “Which thing? That it wasn’t a big deal or that you want to pretend it never happened?”
Fuck, you did say that earlier. You lean a little closer to her, letting your hand slide beneath her elbow and over her arm again, “Both. I actually haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you…about these…” you answer, bringing your hand up to cup her cheek, letting your thumb swipe over her bottom lip. “Not for a single second.”
Her lips are soft, a little wet. You can smell the vodka on her breath and goddamn if that doesn’t make you want her more for some reason. You want to taste her, but you need to devour her.
A smile crosses her lips, as she moves closer to you, “I was kinda wondering if you were going to make good on that text, or if it was just for show.”
You huff a laugh as you flick at the blunt again, “Well, as you saw, I do enjoy the show, but I keep my word. I meant what I said last night.”
Your eyes are dark and demanding as they look into hers. You feel her hand meet yours, plucking the blunt from your fingers and placing the tip between her pink lips, “So did I.”
She takes a long drag from the blunt, holding her breath and letting the tobacco and earth flavored smoke swirl through her lungs. She places it back in your mouth, blowing the stream of smoke over her shoulder as she leans onto the table with challenging eyes. You feel her fingertips barely tap on your lips as you take the blunt back, and the icy contact sets off an alarm in your mind to get her somewhere warm.
You hit the blunt one last time before dabbing it out on the tabletop, flicking the burnt-out paper to somewhere unknown. You stand quickly from the table, gripping her hand in yours as you pull her from the barstool. “C’mon,” you murmur, feeling the blood begin to rush through your body with anticipation. You begin leading her over to a door on the corner of the patio, again looking to see if anyone was around.
“Where are we going?” she breathes. You squeeze her hand, realizing that you’d already intertwined her fingers with yours, just as you had last night on the walk back to the hotel.
You pull the door open, letting the outside light barely illuminate the small bathroom. You do a quick check to make sure it isn’t trashed or occupied, and you pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. The small room is completely dark, devoid of any and all light at all, except for the tiniest sliver of ambient light coming from under the door. You stand with your hands still wrapped up in hers, and what felt like only inches away judging from the feeling of her breath hitting your lips.
“Wanna make good on my word…” you breathe, the sound of your heart racing in your ears.
“...In a bathroom, Jake? She giggles anxiously, but you know she doesn’t really mean it.
You let your hand follow the sound of her words, cupping her jaw again as you bring her into closer proximity. Your thumb brushes her lips again, and you can feel it trembling just a little. Or, maybe it's your hand shaking…the nerves rising up have you feeling light headed. There has never been another woman that makes you react like this. Ever.
“Did you have somewhere else in mind?” you ask, bringing your lip between your teeth as you hear her breath catch, and feel her head shake side to side.
You feel her tiptoe just a little bit, bringing her forehead to balance on yours. Your noses graze just barely, and her chest rests across yours, heaving steadily along with each breath the both of you take. Don’t fuck this up, Jake…
“No, this is perfect,” she whispers, her lips finally making the smallest contact with yours. You feel all of your nerves at attention, every hair on your body standing on end with anticipation for touching her; feeling just the bare minimum of her body was already sending your nervous system into overdrive. Your fingertips tighten on her cheek as you finally close the gap, feeling her plush lips pressing into yours for the second time in twenty four hours. She’s soft and inviting, the feeling of her just the same as it was last night, except now without the element of forced surprise. She feels natural and normal, like you’re meeting her again for the first time after a lifetime spent apart.
It’s like a dream, except the dream quickly turns into the most devious nightmare as she turns up the heat of the kiss. Her tongue presses gently into your mouth, and you’re allowed your first taste of her. Sweet and sour- her natural essence mixed with the limes that were in her drink… the smell of her perfume, the inability to see her face… it was all making your head spin and your vision blur.
The kiss is heated already, like she had been wanting it just as badly as you had. Your mouths crash onto one another's, her hands quickly finding your shoulder and waist as the smallest sound escapes her throat. She pulls you in toward her, her knee slipping in between your legs. Fuck, she feels good. You grasp her up in your arms, pulling her in more tightly as you begin pushing her backward toward the wall. You feel her gently bump into it, and you take the opportunity to move things in a bit more.
Swiftly, but with the utmost caution, you press her body into the wall, letting your lips trail just a little further from her mouth, down onto her jawline. “This okay?” you mutter, your lips now brushing right below her ear. You feel her body react, her muscles tensing up from your words.
You feel her head nod, “Yeah, yes. It’s… Keep–”
Her words stop short as you embrace her again, finding the kiss to have deepened even more since she gave you the go-ahead. Her hands slip up underneath your shirt, and you can feel the light scratch of her nails across your stomach. You swear you could come undone right then and there, but you hold back, taking a deep breath through your nose as you try to regain your composure. Hardly anything has even happened, and you’re already contemplating how you were going to best satisfy her tonight.
Your hands are begging to feel her skin, so you let them… your calloused fingertips creeping up under her tight black shirt just as hers had just done, her waist thick with soft muscle under the grip of your hands. You squeeze, committing the feeling of her in your grasp to the darkest parts of your memory. Fuck, you wish you could see her.
You part, stepping back just as you grip both of her hips in your hands, jerking her harshly into you. “Why did you say you left when you didn’t?” you ask, trying like hell to catch your breath.
“I was leaving…” she mumbles, pressing her center right back onto you. God, fuck. “I got a phone call.”
“From who?” you bite, your teeth clenched as you stop your eyes from rolling back in your head from the feel of her pressed against you.
“A friend.”
You huff an exasperated breath. “A friend who?”
She bucks her hips forward again, and the movement sends a surge of blood flow straight to your dick; you know for a fact she can tell how hard you are, now. “Do you really want me to answer that, or do you want to keep kissing me?”
You growl with aggravation, gripping her shoulders and pulling her away from the wall, up against the bathroom sink. You press your lips to hers again as her hands grip into your hair, pulling at the strands as you fight each other for dominance over the kiss. You can feel her fingers entangling themselves at the back of your neck as she pulls you in, unable to get you close enough.
She breaks away for a second, and you feel immediate sadness at the loss of contact. “To answer your first question, I said I left because... I wanted to see if you would follow me.”
“I would have,” you answer with no hesitation whatsoever.
“Why?”
You click your tongue, knowing that you aren’t in a position to go into detail about your unexpected, but not unwanted feelings for her. “I can’t answer that question at the moment, but when I can, I’ll let you know,” you explain, earning yourself a pissed-off laugh from her.
“Don’t scoff at me, little fledgling,” you tease, running your tongue up the side of her neck. She chills under your touch, playfully pushing your shoulders back.
You reach down, gripping the backs of her thighs as you lift her onto the marble countertop, pushing her knees apart to find your place between them again. You gently jerk her forward, letting her center meet up with yours at the most perfect height. The sound that escapes her is nothing short of the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard, and you part your lips, drinking her noises in and swallowing them down to live within you for as long as she’d let them.
You press yourself into her harder now, rolling your hips a bit as you start to lose all composure. Fuck, whenever this does finally happen, it’s gonna be good… Your hands are traveling all over her body that’s still covered in your heavy corduroy jacket, and you can feel the heat radiating from your bodies and warming up the otherwise chilled room. You want to feel her, you want to reach down and feel your clothed bodies touching one another, but you stop yourself. Instead, you grip your hands into her thighs, moving them higher and higher until they’re rested at the crease where her legs meet her ass. You want so much to keep going, keep wrapping your hands and digging your fingertips and exploring all that you could, but again, you slow your movements.
You gingerly stop your grip, instead trailing your hands lightly from her hips, up her sides and shoulders, back up to cup both of her cheeks in your hands, slowing the intense make-out into a soft subtle kiss.
“What’s wrong, Jake? Why–”
“Not here. Not like this…” you answer, and if you could see her, you swear you would have seen the same look of defeat as you’d seen earlier. Except this time, for a better reason than the first. You back away a little, feeling her body language fall.
“You’re right, you’re right,” she agrees, hopping down from the sink. “This… isn’t the best setup.”
You adjust yourself in your jeans as you laugh, “Oh, it’s the perfect setup. I just… ya know…”
“People are probably wondering how you made a smoke last this long,” she whispers.
You laugh again, taking her in a sincere embrace, letting her face bury into your chest. “Yeah, exactly.” You sway a couple of seconds as the both of you come down from the heavy session, and you can still feel her heart beating erratically as she presses against you. You lurch down and take her chin between your fingers, bringing your lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss.
“Been thinking about doing that every single second since last night,” you admit quietly.
She laughs shyly. “Can’t believe I just made out with my boss…”
“Hey, cut that boss shit. Paul is your boss. I’m your…”
“...Mmmmmyyy….”
“I’m the one that hired your boss. Get it straight,” you pick, feigning cockiness.
“Oh please…” she laughs, pushing you hard against the wall in the still blacked-out room.
“Let’s get out of here,” you say as you move toward the door to make your grand escape, with all intentions to go ahead and make the trek back to the hotel by yourselves. The two of you step out of the bathroom and back onto the patio, fixing your tousled hair and unkempt clothes. As you round the corner, you’re stopped dead in your tracks as you meet eyes with the last person you wanted to see out here.
Josh is leaned against the same picnic table that you’d extinguished your blunt on, legs crossed at the ankle as he hugs his arms on his chest. The smug fucking smile on his face was enough to turn your raging libido into straight nausea. He holds your phone into the air, shaking it side to side as the screen lights up.
“You left this on the table, it’s been blowing up. Thought you might wanna answer it after the…third consecutive call, but now I see that you were otherwise occupied…” he snaps, his tone anything but playful. You snatch it from his hand, glancing at the screen to see a string of missed calls and texts, but most notably of them all is a text from Y/N telling you she was on her away to meet you outside. Shit. Your eyes flick to Josh’s, and you can read his expression like a book. He raises his eyebrows as he bites a smile, as if he’s saying ‘caught ya’.
You feel Y/N still standing behind you, most likely also unable to move from her stance. You watch as Josh nods to her, then brings his fingers to his mouth, motioning that he’s locking his lips, and throwing away the key. He turns and slowly walks back inside the bar, not uttering another word.
You feel her hand on your back, “Why did he do that?” she asks, a crease between her brows.
Goddammit Josh.
“I don’t know,” you snap, your voice a little harsher than you intended. It's a lie though, you know exactly why he did it.
You turn around to face her, running your hands up and down over her arms to warm her up, “I don’t know what’s up with him tonight, maybe you should spare yourself. Head back early…”
She seems a little taken aback at your suggestion, stepping back a few steps. “Oh, um, yeah you’re right, I should– I should probably go. I have some... stuff I need to do anyway.”
You can feel the nervous energy flowing from her body as her legs continue to move backwards. You don’t want her to leave, but you see no way around it now.
“Be safe, call if you need us,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets.
She hesitates before turning away completely, almost as if she was waiting to see if you were planning to join her. You want to. You want to take her back to her room and finish what you started, but you can’t. You know Josh is waiting for you, counting each second until you step through that door.
She stops, turning back to you, “Oh, your jacket…”
“Keep it. I’ll get it later,” you say, lifting your hand and waving.
Her eyes meet yours again as she nods, a hint of sadness beneath them. Fuck fuck fuck.
You watch her walk back inside, disappearing through the door. You wait a minute or two before you make your way back inside, seeing Josh sitting in the booth alone. You mumble a curse under your breath as you slide into the booth across from him, drinking the water of the melted ice from your abandoned drink.
Josh is staring at you as he sips his drink, his eyes drifting over towards the bar where Ty and the rest of the group have gathered. He looks back to you as he sets his drink on the table and folds his hands together.
“So yeah, how’s that break going, Jacob? Pretty good it seems?” he pauses, shaking his head, “You really are getting your head straight or whatever the fuck it is you told her.”
You toss your head back in annoyance. This fucker thinks he knows everything.
“Listen to me,” you demand, your voice growing deep. “You need to stay the fuck out of it. I’m dealing with it. Do you hear me?”
He blows you off, scoffing under his breath.
“Do you hear me, Josh,” you growl.
He drags his eyes back to yours, dark and piercing, “Yeah, Jacob. I hear you. But answer me this, when was the last time you spoke to her?”
It feels like a punch in the gut as you answer, “None of your fucking business.”
“No, no, see it is kind of my business, seeing as how you’ve been–”
“No, you know what, I’m not doing this. I’m leaving, I’ll see you in the morning,” you spit, standing from the booth and grabbing your things.
“Don’t be that guy, Jake.”
You suck your teeth and nod at him with a fake smile as you turn to head toward the door.
Fucking prick, thinks he gets to call the shots in everyones life. Fuck him.
The walk to the hotel is short, the cold air cutting through you like a knife, but you’re glad she has your jacket. You know that when you get it back it will smell like her, and that alone makes this icy wind worth it.
Your mind drifts as you walk, your brain replaying the image of her in the bathroom. The way her lips felt, the way she tasted. The feeling of her skin in your hands. You have half a mind to run straight to her, pick up where you left off, but after the look on her face you aren’t sure you can.
Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket as you draw closer to the hotel, a persistent buzz indicating a phone call, not a text. You pull it from your pocket seeing the name on the Caller ID for what has to be the fourth time tonight. You curse as you slide your finger across the screen answering the call.
“Hello...”
“Hey baby, I didn’t think you were gonna pick up!” her familiar voice says.
“Wonder what could have possibly given you that idea,” you gripe in response.
“Sorry, I’m just missing you. Haven’t heard from you…” she whines.
“Yes, Isla. That is exactly the point of a break. To not hear from me,” you snap.
“But Jake, I thought you’d at least tell me you made it. I’ve been worried and you turned off your location and everything, I just miss you,” she continues, her voice suddenly grating on your nerves.
“Isla, Christ…What are you not getting?”
“Do you not miss me?” she asks, fishing for a reciprocated sentiment.
Your phone buzzes in your hand as you start to answer, pulling it away just enough to see the notification banner at the top.
‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
Your heart lurches in your chest when you read it, and whatever Isla is saying turns into a hum of noise.
“Jake? Are you listening to me?” she asks, her tone annoyed.
“What? Yeah, I hear you. Look I uh, it’s late here. I just got back to the hotel. I’ll call you soon, okay?” you ask, trying to calm her enough to get off the phone.
“I know we’re on a break, Jake, but you know I still love you.”
“Yeah, yeah I know, hey I’m getting on the elevator, I’m about to lose you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
You hear her sigh, “Okay, bye babe.”
“Bye,” you say, hitting the red button and ending the call.
“Fuck me, FUCK me!” you shout, the elevator doors closing in front of you. You hit the nine button letting it carry you up to your floor. This has got to stop.
You immediately open the notification from Y/N, waiting for the playlist to load. You watch as the songs start to populate one by one, the last and most recent one finally loading as you step out of the elevator on your floor. Your heart drops as you read the name of the song you know all too well. ‘High and Dry’ by Radiohead.
Fucking hell. How many times are you going to screw it up with this girl?
You press play, letting the somber and melancholy tune play through the speakers as you fumble around for your hotel room key. The lyrics swirl through your ears as you realize that you did exactly what the song says. You left her high and dry in order to cover your own ass. You’ve given her a hundred reasons to never speak to you again, and you wouldn’t blame her if she did.
You make the walk down the hallway, spotting your room, but stopping short when your eyes land on her hotel room door just a few steps away. You know she is just behind that door, probably in bed, wondering what she did wrong. Fuck.
Your mind flashes back to last night, when you wanted to kiss her again, standing at that very door. But tonight, you did. You kissed her again and fuck if it wasn’t even better than the first time. You had every intention of taking her back here tonight. Every single intention of doing whatever she asked of you. In the matter of twenty-four hours she had you completely wrapped around her finger. You’d give her anything she wanted. You want her, badly, but you just can’t seem to stop fucking it up. And now that Josh knows, you know that it will only be a matter of time before everyone knows.
You bite your lips together as you pull your room key from your pocket, looking at the shiny white plastic in your hand as your heart pounds in your chest. Your eyes flick to your door for just a moment then back to her door only a few measly steps away. The song ends as you look down at the phone in your hand.
Should you reply? Should you go to her? Should you let it be?
You know what you want to do, and you know what you should do.
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader, Jake Kiszka, x OC
Word Count: 17.6k
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Lying, Allusions to cheating, Deceit, Arguing, Yelling, Mental and Emotional Manipulation, Vulnerability, Kissing and Sexual Themes.
Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
A/N: The final chapter! Thanks so much for sticking this one out with us. Major shout out to @gretavanmoon who bore the brunt of this last chapter as I experienced some mental burnout. This wouldn't have happened without her fierce dedication to this story. I hope you love the end of this story, and keep your eye out for what we are cooking up next.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
JAKE POV
Your clenched fists are still resting on the cold metal elevator doors, your forehead falling down to join them. Fuck. Fuck fuck…everything is fucking ruined for real, now. Why did you have to let your urges get the best of you last night? Everything you could have had…
Your fists pound a few more times as you hear a commotion in the hallway behind you, realizing that a few people had now joined you in the quiet corridor. You pull away from the elevator doors to gather your thoughts, the rage rushing through your bloodstream as you pace the hardwood floors. You’re mad. You’re so fucking mad. At everyone, and at everything. But mostly, you’re disappointed in yourself.
“What the fuck do I do now?” you murmur as the strangers board the elevator, giving you a few tight smiles and nods as the doors close on them. You feel like you could take on a hundred men, let your fists fly and your tongue shoot daggers at anyone who dared walk past you. But you know that’s not you. It’s just the adrenaline, the disappointment, the regret…
Angry tears are pricking at your eyes as you rush back to the room, feeling as if you could walk right through the wall. This is it, it’s all over. No more. It’s done.
You force the door open and hear it hit the wall behind it, finding Isla still wrapped up in the bed sheets as she stands beside the bed, your phone in her hand.
“Isla, what the fuck are you doing?” you shout, feeling your face grow hot. Her mouth is gaping open, the look on her face one you’re oh-so familiar with. “Is that my phone?”
She turns the screen to face you, showing you the photo that you had taken of Y/N in that not so innocent position a couple of weeks ago, with yourself buried inside her. You rip the phone from her hand, completely embarrassed for yourself, and for her.
“Real fucking classy, Jacob. And I went through your texts with her, too! What the fuck?! You were lying to me all along ! This whole time!” she screams, pulling the sheets up over her chest.
You can hardly see straight. Your vision is blurry and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your hands go numb and you feel your face absolutely burning with wild rage.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Isla?!” You scream, feeling as if your voice isn’t your own. You squeeze your phone in your hand before launching it across the room, watching as it smacks hard against the wall, leaving a mark in the drywall before it falls to the wooden floor.
“That is a complete invasion of privacy! I did not give you permission to do that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” you shout, letting your hands come up and cover your eyes. You can’t even bear to look at her anymore. “You know what? Get out. Get the fuck out of my room. Now.”
Your chest is heaving and you can hear her starting to mope, letting out exasperated breaths as you hear her throw the sheets back onto the bed. You finally uncover your eyes but you still can’t see straight, you’re so blinded with rage. You busy yourself with whatever the fuck you can do while Isla gets dressed, haphazardly throwing her things into her bag as she barks out bursts of bitchiness again.
“How fucking could you, Jake? After all we had, after all this… I came here for you, you slept with me, and now I find out you’ve been fucking her all along?!”
“I told you I was sleeping with her, Isla! Goddamnit! You asked, and I told you… I don’t know what the fuck else you want me to say. I didn’t… I didn’t mean for last night to happen, you know that always fucking happens with us, and I regret it, already. All of it…”
You hear the sobs come through her nose as she stuffs her things in her bags. “Where the fuck do you want me to go Jake?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I don’t know. I don’t really care, at this point. I didn’t even invite you here,” you shoot back, almost defeatedly.
She huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Just like you… have sex with me, really good sex with me… then toss me away after. That’s all you’ve ever wanted me for, anyway. Just a good fuck. Nothing’s ever gonna change with you, is it? You’re always gonna be a fucking jerk…” she rambles, reigniting that flame in your chest. You step closer to her, close enough to feel her breath on your face.
“Don’t you ever accuse me of that, Isla,” you growl through gritted teeth. “Do not ever fucking take it there. That could not be further from the truth, and you fucking know it.” If you weren’t blind with rage before, you sure as hell are now, accusing you of only ever wanting her for that.
She picks up her phone and taps around the screen. “You’re the love of my life, Jake. But I swear to god I question why I’m even with you every single day…” she pulls the phone up to her ear.
“We aren’t together, Isla! You need to get that through your head!” you yell, raising your hands up in the air. “Please, get the fuck out of my room!”
She puts her phone onto speaker and you hear Lyla’s voice on the other end.
“Hey, Ly? I’m coming to your room. What’s the number?” you hear her throw on her fake tears as she speaks. She throws her bag strap over her shoulder as she brushes past you. “No, I’m not fine, I just need to get the fuck away from him for a minute.”
A minute… A minute?!
Is this ever going to fucking end?
On her last word, the door slams in your face. You stand in the middle of the room, catching the breath that you’d essentially been holding for the past five minutes. You can feel a cold sweat beading up on your face as you replay everything that happened and all the horrible decisions you’ve made. The look on Y/N’s face just now… All of it came rushing back as you felt so out of control of your life, you nearly blacked out with regret. Regret for even saying yes to that date with Isla all those years ago. Regret for allowing her to stay here this long, and using her as a toy to make Y/N jealous. But mostly for what you did last night. Stupid, stupid.
The thought of having sex with her last night churns your stomach, and that’s how you know for a fact that you never want to have her in that way ever again. No matter how well you mesh together in that capacity. The way you feel when you’re with Y/N trumps it altogether, the emotions she drags from you outshining everything you ever had with Isla by a landslide.
Suddenly, things make a little bit of sense. Suddenly, a tiny bit of clarity hits your swirling mind. You feel as though you could harness all of the negative feelings harboring themselves within you right now, march downstairs and find Y/N, throwing everything to the wayside as you confess your feelings for her. Tell her exactly how you feel. God damnit, do you…? No, the feeling is too strong. It’s more than that. It’s an overwhelming feeling of respect for everything that she is, everything that she ever will be. All the beauty she naturally carries and the pride she has within herself. And you’re fucking whipped for her.
But you don’t even deserve to give her that satisfaction. She deserves the world. She deserves you at your best, rid of all your demons and baggage and horrible moods. And way deep down, deeper than it’s even comfortable enough to think about, you know that Murph is probably giving that to her. He’s probably giving her fun, and comfort, and making her laugh… He’s probably loving her just the way she should be loved, the way you could be loving her.
That realization doesn’t help the fact that you feel like pressing your boot against his face, though.
You walk over and pick your phone up from the floor, already expecting the worst. It’s cracked and damaged, the screen resembling a perfect spider web on the corner. “Goddamnit,” you breathe as you fall back down onto the bed. Just as you’re catching your breath, the alarm on your phone goes off, letting you know that you have a smooth fifteen minutes to get dressed and downstairs to meet the rest of the guys to head to soundcheck.
You wonder what Y/N is doing right now. Is she crying, still? Or is she with Murph, letting him comfort her for something he has absolutely nothing to do with? The whole thing puts another sickening feeling in your stomach as you run your hand over your face, knowing that you need to take the fastest shower known to man.
Your phone dings with another notification, and you’re surprised the thing even wants to make noise right now. You look down to see Josh’s name in the groupchat. You carefully slide your thumb across the shattered screen, cursing yourself for not putting a protector on it while you had the chance.
Josh
9:46AM: Good morning bitches! It’s a beautiful day! Get your asses downstairs
You roll your eyes at his positivity as you drag your body up to stand. As you make your way into the bathroom and start the shower, you hear your phone sound with a different notification.
The screen is lit up with something that used to bring you so much joy, but now seems to be a vessel for communication that sends a wave of sadness straight to your gut.
‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
A song you hadn’t even thought about since high school, ‘Don’t Speak’ by No Doubt.
She didn’t want to talk. This is her way of telling you to stay away.
You let your phone fall back down onto the counter as you listen to the song play out, already dreading the fact that your day is only going to get much, much worse.
—
HER POV
Your entire body feels numb as you rush out of the elevator door, your eyes blurred and sticky from fighting back tears once again.
How fucking could he? Is everyone lying to you? He must really still love Isla, nothing makes any fucking sense…
You’re pacing down the ground floor hall to your room, hoping to the heavens that you don’t run into anyone along the way. You bring your hands up to cover your face, your frozen fingertips burning against the warmth of your face. It’s almost as if the rage you feel has manifested itself, ready to fly free as you replay the scene you’d just walked in on over and over in your mind.
Isla is so gorgeous… perfect in every sense of the word. Of course he slept with her, how could he not? The look on his face once he realized it was you washed over you again and again, embarrassed and ashamed, already mourning every single thought of what could have been.
You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t want to speak to him. Ever again. You pulled out your phone and pulled up the music app, opening your shared playlist and adding the only song that you can think of at the time that would get straight to the point of telling him not to bother you anymore. Don’t Speak.
It felt sudden, it felt jolting… especially considering the rollercoaster of emotions the two of you had shared since he made this playlist on the plane. So many ups and downs in so little time. You had to give him that, at least. He’s made you feel more than anyone else has in a long, long time.
Like an old friend you truly didn’t want to see, someone presented themselves in front of you, grabbing at your arms with their strong, steady hands. Even through the blurriness of your tears and the racking of sobs in your chest, you knew that it was Ezra.
“Baby, whoa whoa, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he begged as you cursed him for happening to find you in the hallway. “Come here, why are you crying?” he asks, trying his best to take you in his arms.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, Murph. I just– I’m fine, promise!” You try to play it off by sounding more sincere than the situation constituted, but there was no way you could divulge the actual reason for your unhappiness.
“No you aren’t, baby… Tell me, you want me to walk you back to your room?” he purred, his normally gruff voice now calm and comforting.
“No, I swear, I’m just having a moment. But thank you, I’m–I’m almost there, anyway…” his arms were gently wrapped around you as you finally met his eyes, pleading and full of so much worry that it almost made you cry even harder. This sweet, sweet man, caring so much as to stop what he was doing and console you.
The two of you walk a few paces more in the direction you’d been headed, his body language telling you that he was still yet very concerned. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, his deep brown eyes scanning yours.
You purse your lips, using both hands to wipe away the remnant tears as you try to dry yourself up. “I just… can’t.”
He nods slowly, “Alright, babe.” He cups your face, using both thumbs to wipe away your tears as he bends down to your level. “You don’t have to tell me… let’s just get you back inside, okay?”
You nod, letting him pull you further down the hall. “This the room?” he asks.
“Yeah, this one here,” you say as you pull your room key from your pocket. You unlock and open the door, wanting nothing more than to crash into the room and cry alone in peace. Murph stands at the doorway, not wanting to be too forward and let himself all the way in, all the while still wearing that horrified look of worry.
You turn to him, placing a soft hand to his chest. “Thanks, Murph. I promise, I’m fine. I’m just being a girl, ya know. Hormones and stress and whatnot,” you lie, making you feel the strangest sense of guilt.
His soft smile makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, his strong arms reaching all the way around you and embracing you in a warm and comforting hug. “I had a really good time, last night. Been thinkin’ about you all morning, thought about you all night…” he says softly. “Just kinda threw me for a loop when I saw you crying, after I left you that note I just thought–”
“Well you thought wrong,” you interrupted him. “That was the sweetest thing to wake up to. I was actually really upset that you’d left so early…”
He smiles again, this time with a bit more relief. “Really? I mean, I’m sorry… duty called and I just couldn’t wake you up. You looked so pretty and peaceful,” his words are soft as he pulls a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You sure you aren’t mad at something I did? You don’t regret last night?”
You shake your head, feeling a little clarity. “No. No regrets.” His sweetness makes you want to melt into a puddle. You’ve really never had someone show affection in the same manner as Murph. “I’ll see you later?” you ask as he steps back from the threshold.
“Yeah, babe. Hope you feel better.” And with a sweet wink, he’s disappearing back down the hall.
You feel hysterical as you fall face-first into your bed sheets, letting the tears you held back find their place in your eyes once again. You don’t really deserve to cry, as you’ve found another route of happiness in Murph, but still yet, you allow yourself to be upset at the fact that Jake had the audacity to be intimate with Isla again after so much time telling you how much he didn’t want her anymore.
So you cried, for a long while you cried… before you decided all of your tears were being wasted on something you had no business being upset about. You drag yourself from the bed and begin running a bath, throwing in a few pumps of body wash to make a bubble bath. You toss your clothes onto the floor and test the temperature, finding it to be perfectly scalding hot.
As you let your muscles sink down into the velvety smooth bubbles and hot water, you realize that you haven’t even told Ruth about your night with Murph, yet. You dial a FaceTime call, propping your phone safely behind a few bottles as you cover your exposed self with the white fluffy bubbles.
“Hey bitch. Oh my god, are you naked?!” she wails when you finally see her face lighting up the screen.
“No, Ruth, I have my clothes on in the bathtub. Yes, I’m naked you idiot,” you reply with a laugh as you pull your hair on top of your head.
“Ugh, I love you but I don’t love you that much. Anyway, what’s up? Why is your face red?” she asks as she crunches down on a baby carrot.
You just stare at her on the screen, waiting for her to read your mind.
“Have you been crying? You’ve been crying, why? What happened? Assface Jerkhead Guitar boy? Don’t tell me Muscles Van Gorgeous made you mad… which one? Which one’s life am I sabotaging?” she asked in succession, making a smile find your face for the first time in a day.
“Neither Ruth, neither…” you sighed. “I just… I finally hooked up with Murph last night.”
“Oh my GOD! You’re kidding. Fuck yes, okay… how was it? Where? After the concert?” she asks as she adjusts herself in her seat and pulls her feet up underneath her.
“Yes, after the concert. We had an excellent time… and I managed to make Jake jealous, somehow. He was with Isla of course, and I guess he saw me and Murph getting comfy and he fucking texted me, Ruth. Asking me what the hell I thought I was doing?” Your hand flew up into the air above the bubbles as you spoke. “Anyway, I ignored him. And me and Murph kinda… had a rendezvous in his truck in the parking garage of the hotel.”
“You sly bitch…” she growls cutting her eyes. “Okay, and how was it? Was he everything you ever dreamed of?”
You nodded hard. “Yeah, he was…” you filled your cheeks up with air. “Fucking great, honestly. He’s so nice and sweet, but I could tell he has another side about him, ya know?”
“He a freak, ain’t he? Tell me he a freakkkkk, Y/N…”
You laugh. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely isn’t vanilla, thank god. Anyway umm… So this morning, I remembered that Jake added a song to the playlist last night that was basically saying he didn’t want to fight. And I didn’t either. So I decided that I would go and try to clear the air with him while Isla was there, there was no way I was going to leave things like they were. So, I went down into the lobby and got coffee for him and Isla. I was just going to drop it off and do my due diligence and apologize… leave it at that so they could go on with their lives.”
“You got her a coffee?! Okay, ballsy! I hope you spit in it…”
“RUTH ANN! Take that back!” you yell, letting it echo through the bathroom.
She shrugs. “I’m just sayin’. Continue…”
“Annnnnyways, Isla opened the door, and she was standing there, half naked and wrapped up in their bedsheets. Jake was um. Getting dressed behind her.” You feel a bit sorry for yourself as you pick up some bubbles in your palm, blowing them into the air and watching as they fall, joining the others in the sea of soapy white suds.
“So what did you do?” she asks, sounding a bit defeated herself as she cupped her chin in her hands.
You sigh hard as you rub your wet hands over your face. “I put the coffees down, stormed off, added “Don’t Speak” by No Doubt to the playlist so he would get the message to leave me the hell alone, and then Murph found me in the hall. Saw me crying. Thought he’d done something wrong.”
“No, not my sweetums Erza! He could never! Did you tell him he was perfect and beautiful and kiss him?”
You laugh at her ability to always keep things so lighthearted. “Yes, well kind of. I told him that I was just being a crazy woman with crazy woman feelings. Bless his heart, he is the actual sweetest. Anyways, now I’m calling you.”
“So, you’re pissed. And you’re crying. So what are we gonna do?” she presses.
You sigh, your mind traveling a million miles a minute as you wish you could just pull the drain and let yourself flow down the pipes with your bathwater. “I don’t know, Ruth. I tried, I really did.”
“Okay, here’s the plan,” she brushes her hands against one another. “Murph has done nothing wrong, right? He’s innocent, here. Maybe he deserves all of your attention.”
“Yeah but I don’t want to even associate with the male species right now, Ruth! I hate them all,” you bellow through a fake forced laugh.
“Okay. So just keep doing your job and try your best and just see how everything goes. But don’t be a bitch to Murphy, he gives good D and we want to keep that momentum,” she says.
You cover your face with your hands again. “Ruth, I swear to god… Ugh. Listen, I have to get out of here and get dressed. See what other fresh hell awaits me at this next show.”
“Ok, boss. Clean it up, add more feminine energy songs onto the playlist. Maybe some Alanis Morrissette or Fiona Apple perhaps? Little Miranda Lambert? Let him know that you are a bad bitch that don’t need no man?”
“I’m hanging up Ruth! Love you!”
“Adios, whore!!!” she yells back as you reach up and press the red button, taking a breath before pulling the plug of the tub. You realize it’s time to put on your game face, deciding that making it through these next few shows without another damned argument was going to prove more difficult than you anticipated.
—
JAKE POV
Though your mind feels like mush, your hands feel like they’re razor sharp, going through the motions of soundcheck with ease. Sam’s only shot you a couple of side-eyes as he apparently has picked up on your bad mood, but you hope that he brushes it off.
You’d spent the majority of soundcheck eyeballing the crew from behind your tinted glasses, watching as Murph is hovering a lot differently than he normally is. That’s interesting…
Your suspicions are justified as you watch Y/N walk past him in a hurry, and his entire body lights up as he turns into her, resting his hand quickly on her lower waist as she giggles and pulls his hand away. Nail, meet coffin.
Fuck. Yeah. They…
Danny was right. They definitely slept together. You can see it in their body language. God damnit.
But, what the hell are you gonna say? You have no dog in that fight. You think about asking her about it, being transparent in the matter, now knowing that she knows you slept with Isla. You truly think about it as you slip your guitar strap over your head and hand it back to your tech, watching her intently from across the large room as she does her duties.
“Hey, man. C’mere a second,” you hear Sam’s hushed voice in your ear. You’re snapped from your thoughts as you follow behind him, wondering what the hell he needs to talk about. He turns to make sure you’re behind him and you flash him a puzzled look, so he lifts his hand up and nods for you to just follow.
You follow him to the side doors and outside, watching as he stands with his back against the wall of the building. He fishes his hand in his pocket and pulls out his smokes, lighting one and inhaling a puff more quickly than he usually would. You close in on him, his eyes working to search around to make sure you’re alone. He looks a bit anxious as he offers you a hit.
“What’s up?” you ask him, your heart rate picking up a little as you lift your sunglasses to your head. His face is contorted and panicked, something you rarely see out of him, especially right before a show. “You alright?”
His smoke blows quickly from in front of his face as you inhale some yourself. “Yeah, ahh, no… not really? Need your advice again, I think… Remember when I busted into your room that night drunk off my ass and chattering on about… ya know….”
You nod slowly, recounting the night all too well. “I remember.”
He clenches his jaw together as his eyes continue to scan. “It’s gotten worse, man. I dunno, Lyla is just… urgh, she’s grating on my nerves. I don’t know what it is lately, but it’s like we’re suddenly two completely different people. We argue a lot, we never agree on anything… She's one person with me, and a complete other in front of everyone else. She makes me feel so guilty, man. Wants to settle down and start a family and shit when that was the first thing we talked about when we got together, that I can’t promise that stuff right now. She makes me resent myself, our careers, being with you guys… I get no support whatsoever, anymore. And it always feels like she’s hiding something from me. Completely different wavelengths. And it’s like I don’t even wanna be around her… I swear I’ve kinda almost lost…”
“Lost all attraction to her?” you finish for him.
He nods. “Yeah. Exactly. Isn’t that awful of me? Like why did this happen out of nowhere?”
You ponder his question, sympathizing with him more than he even knows. “It probably didn’t come out of nowhere, Sam. It’s probably been festering for a while.” You eye him as you pass his cigarette back.
He shuffles his feet around as the wind picks up. “Is this how you feel with Isla?” he mumbles.
“Yeah, kinda, but worse. Like, way, way worse. And I kinda fucked it up even more last night…” you admit, suddenly feeling like you had to tell somebody.
“Oh no, what did you do?”
You swallow harshly, the memories of your lips all over her body last night now making you feel sick all over again. You look back up to him with eager, telling eyes.
“No, Jake. You didn’t. You slept with her? After all–”
“Yeah, Sam, fuck. I did. It was a complete moment of weakness. I swear, I don’t know what it is about her, but she lures me back in every single fucking time, and I hate it. I swear, I hate it. I hate myself for it. But it happened, and I regret everything about it. And then Y/N fucking had to walk into my room this morning and see Isla half fucking naked…”
“Ohhhh my god, no!” Sam yells with a little bit of a smile on his face, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth. “You’re kidding me, wow.”
“Yeah. Yeah, laugh all you want. I royally fucked everything up so horribly I don’t even know what to do with myself,” you wave a hand in his face as you physically feel the pressure on your shoulders.
“Damn,” he finally relents, “You are worse off than I am. Sorry.”
You take a deep breath, shaking away the negative thoughts and feelings. “S’alright, I guess.”
“You ever think that Ly and Isla are like, master conspirators but also just like… are trying to lock us down or something?” he asks, his question actually throwing you for a loop.
“What do you mean?” you ask, running the dead cigarette butt along the concrete to extinguish it.
“I don’t know. Since we’ve been on this tour, don’t you feel like things have changed with those two? I mean they’ve been best friends since they could walk, and everything with you and Isla back home, now she is acting almost just the same? Doesn’t it feel a little bit strange to you? Almost like they plan on making sure of the fact that they’re going to be here for the long haul?” he says. The thought hadn’t really crossed your mind, much, but now that he mentions it…
Sam always has had a way with seeing the end results of a situation before they even play out, picking up on people’s intentions before they even portray them. It kind of all makes sense, though. The two of them planning Isla’s trip here behind your backs, both of them being extremely needy but ignorant to the fact that you and Sam are inherently becoming more and more unhappy, not caring one bit about the state of your wants and needs…
It suddenly all makes sense.
“Have you been being careful, Sam…” you say without an ounce of question in your voice.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
“Good. I think you might be onto something… some stupid master plan that they have going, something just feels off,” you say, turning your back to the wind.
“It most definitely does. And honestly, I don’t think Mia has a damn thing to do with it,” he says.
You shake your head. “Me neither.”
“Are we crazy?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
“No. I think we should trust our guts. I already told Isla to get the fuck away from me this morning and go find you guys… Who knows where she even ended up,” you move to make your way back inside.
“They ran off. Haven’t seen them since,” he says as he follows you. “I do think you should go and talk to Y/N, though.”
You stop in your tracks, hearing him suggest that. “What? Why?”
“Because, stupid, you really like her. And I really like her. And I’m sorry I caused that big dramatic episode back in Ireland. That was uncalled for. But you should go clear it up, she might appreciate you being forward about it.”
The thought alone makes your joints feel stiff, the dread weighing heavily on you. Maybe you should…
“I think she’s cozied up to Murph, now. Not sure she’d even want to be in my presence if she didn’t have to be,” you whisper as you reenter the main part of the building. Your face grows hot at the mention of Murph’s name, still feeling that deep residual jealousy.
“You might be surprised,” he shrugs. “Seems to me like you guys just used other people for retaliation. That alone has to mean something.”
Just like the universe had stepped in when you needed it least, you turn the corner and run right into Y/N. “Oh, fuck, sorry,” you apologize as she nearly drops the pile of towels in her hands. You watch as Sam walks away behind her, mouthing ‘perfect timing!’.
“Don’t worry about it,” she barks as she tries to keep making her way past you.
“Hey, Y/N,” you stop her, completely unknowing of what the hell you are going to say, but taking Sam’s advice anyway. “Can we… Can I–”
“No, Jake. We can’t. Please leave me alone and let me do my job,” she says with a hint of sadness in her voice, but still enough force that you don’t want to press too much.
You let her pass, watching her as she saunters quickly down the hall. “I miss you, Y/N…” you say, the echo of your voice reverberating off the walls. She slows her pace, and barely turns. If you’re going to say something at all, you’d better say it now. All in the open.
“I fucked up. I fucked up badly. And I’m sorry. There will never be anything I can say to take any of that back. And I know you probably don’t want a damn thing to do with me anymore, and if that’s so, then I can respect it. But I just wanted you to know that, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. You make me crazy. You make me think about things in a way that I’ve never thought about before.” You take a breath as her eyes meet yours, full of hurt and a sorrow that swallows you right up. You take the opportunity to take a few steps toward her, closing the space between you just a little.
“When you’re around I feel a happiness that nothing else in the world can give me, or has ever given me. Nothing compares. And that’s the god’s honest truth. I don’t– I don’t let people get to me, Y/N. But ever since you came into my life there was nothing I could do about it. You knocked me down. And I know that you’ve… moved on, from…whatever this was. And, I get that… just know that I am so sorry. And I’ve found clarity, and even if you decide that I’m worthless to you, just know that you always meant more to me than I was ever able to explain.”
The hall is silent as your rambling comes to an abrupt halt, the feelings of defeat and hopefulness simultaneously taking up space in your chest. Her eyes are still deep and hollow, and you watch as her lip quivers just a little as she glances at the gap still between you. Her eyes shoot to the ground as her hand comes up to wipe a stray tear away. “Have a good show, Jake.”
—
A while later, you’re gathered in the jam room strumming on an acoustic as your eyes are focused on nothing at all, the air drying out your corneas so harshly that you have to remind yourself to blink every minute or so. You’ve replayed your conversation, well, speech, to Y/N earlier in the hall probably over a hundred times now, wishing you had said other things, explained a little differently, scooped her up in your arms and told her she is everything you have ever wanted and more…
But the thoughts become interrupted every few minutes as Josh would yell something particularly loudly or Danny would hit a hi-hat a bit too harshly.
“Hey,” Josh says as he’s suddenly in your bubble, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Staring contest with the wall?”
“Yeah, and I’m fucking losing,” you say as you twist the guitar down to rest on the floor. You bring your thumb and fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose, realizing that you need to start getting your energy up a bit so as not to make a fool of yourself on stage when the time comes.
“You gonna make it? Want me to slap you across the face a bit? I could ask Ty to, it works for me, sometimes…” he offers with a chuckle.
You smile, knowing that you quite literally do need a physical slap in the face right now. “Nah, thanks though. Probably just need a stiff shot of a spirit or two.” You pull your battered phone from your pocket to check the time.
“Mother of god, what happened to your phone?!” Josh yells, pulling it down to inspect it. You give him a tight smile and raise your eyebrows. “Fuck, did things get bad again?”
You inhale sharply, “Oh yeah. Really bad. Caught her going through my phone and my texts. Sent me over the edge, obviously.”
“Shit,” he breathes. “You break it, or did she?”
“I did. Threw it at the fucking wall,” you laugh at yourself, and the stupid memory.
“She see anything incriminating?”
“You don’t even wanna know what she fucking saw…” you shake your head, hearing another commotion as Mia, Lyla and Isla all three enter the room. Just the feeling of Isla’s presence sends a cold chill over your body, one that’s full of some of the deepest unexplainable distaste for someone that you have ever felt. “Well, if it isn’t the Three Musketeers!” you announce spitefully, shoving your guitar into its stand. You’re met with Josh’s eyes the size of dinner plates.
You feel fire rushing through your veins as you realize your body is putting up a protective barrier for itself, a defense so definite that you feel like you are outside of your own body as your legs carry you to stand right in front of Isla.
“Why are you here? I thought I made it very clear that I told you to stay away from me,” you spit, uncaring that you are about to do this in front of everyone.
She scoffs, crossing her arms and avoiding your eyes. “You didn’t mean that, Jake. Come on.”
“Oh, I meant it. I meant every single word. Actually, why are you even here? Why did you follow me to Europe when before I left I told you to please vacate my home, and not contact me?” you bark, feeling a confident fire rising within your chest as the words fell like a venomous poison.
The room is dead silent.
“Jake, quit messing around, are you really doing this right now?” she avoids your gaze again, and you know that you are getting to her. She’s normally held very true to being able to hold eye contact, even when she’s lying.
“Yeah. Yes. I’m really doing this right now. We’re all family here, huh? Let’s talk about it in a place where you can’t twist my words, where you can’t manipulate me into thinking I’m crazy, hmm?” you say, earning another scoff from her. “Did I not ask you to please move out, to please not contact me, to please understand that I wanted to end this relationship?”
She rolls her eyes and her tongue around in her mouth as her body language stiffens. “You told me you wanted a break, not to break up…”
“Oh but I did, Isla. You just decided that that break, that I agreed to simply to get you off my back so I could leave my house to get on a fucking plane, mind you… ended exactly when you wanted it to end. Without any conversation with me on said subject. Isn’t that right?” You are reeling, your words are absolutely burning your mouth, but it’s as though you aren’t speaking them. Your conscience is doing the talking for you. “Who said you got to make that decision on your own?”
“Jake, please stop, you don’t mean any of this… we had such a good night last night, please!”
“No, Isla! I won’t stop. This is what I want. This is what I have wanted for a long, long time. Does everyone hear me?!” You motion around yourself. “I don’t want you around me, I don’t want you in my home when I get back to it, I didn’t invite you here, and everything that has happened between us since you got here has been a mistake. A horrible mistake that has done nothing but ruin everything for me. Do I need to be any clearer? Or do I need to write it down for you?” Your chest is heaving with rage, and pride in yourself.
You glance around to everyone else again, still completely silent as you watch Isla’s face finally drop. “Is that crystal clear to everyone?” You feel all of their heads nodding slowly in agreement. “Good, great. Isla, is that clear?” you ask her directly.
Finally, finally… she nods. “Yeah, fucking crystal, Jake. I won’t bother you ever again. Good luck fucking up your whole career…” she says as Lyla rips her out of the room by the arm, toting her along.
“We won’t let him! Because that’s what family does! We support each other!” Sam yells at the both of them as they exit the door. After he speaks, he meets your eyes with the biggest stupid grin on his face, as if he was seeing if you heard him. You hear a snicker from Ty and Josh.
Alright, maybe this went better than you thought it would.
The tension in the room seems to subside a little as everyone catches their breath. “Mia, do you want to follow them?” you ask as she cozies up to Danny’s side.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m staying here.” Danny kisses the top of her head and sends you a grateful smile.
“Good. Okay then.”
Just then you hear someone clear their throat from the doorway, breaking all of your attention away to see Y/N standing there, somewhat awkwardly.
“Um, sorry. Sam, Danny, they need you back in sound for a second,” she announces, clasping her hands behind her back. You watch as they both stand from their seats to head that way, Mia, Josh and Ty following closely behind to give you the room.
It’s tense for a second as the two of you stand eye to eye, neither of you daring to speak first. Still riding on your confident high from the seconds prior, you decide to be the one to break the ice.
“How much did you hear?”
She clears her throat again. “Enough.”
You lick your lips as you sit back down on the couch, replacing your guitar on your lap. “Sorry you had to see all that drama.”
“It’s okay,” she says, slowly making her way toward you and taking the opposite seat on the couch. “I think… I had some time to think about what you said earlier…”
“Oh?” you ask, strumming away.
“Yeah. I was upset this morning, Jake. I can’t believe you… after everything you told me about her, and your relationship, you slept with her…”
“Yeah, and you just saw I admitted that was a grave mistake. I have absolutely no excuse for that, Y/N. There is nothing I can say to explain my behavior, other than a delicious mix of alcohol, old habits, being too fucking horny to function, and so insanely jealous of seeing you with Murph that I didn’t even care what the hell happened to me next.”
She stays quiet as your tune fills the awkward silence in the air.
“Just tell me you slept with him, Y/N. Rip off the bandaid, just tell me so I can process it and get it over with,” you beg, your voice flat and blank as you finally make eye contact with her.
“Yeah, I did. I slept with him,” she says.
You nod slowly as you begin your staring contest with the wall again, your fingers aimlessly traveling across your familiar strings as your heart plummets to the floor. “Was it for retaliation?”
“No, Jake, I– It wasn’t. I like Ezra, he treats me really well, and we get along–”
“Oh, Ezra, huh?! We’re on a first name basis, now. Interesting…” you say with probably a little too much bite.
“Oh don’t fucking start, Jake,” she complains. “You have no leg to stand on, right now…”
You hold up a defensive hand. “I’m not starting, I’m not arguing,” you continue playing, speaking softly. “I understand why you did what you did, and I’m in no place to have an opinion on something that isn’t my business, right sweetheart?”
She nods. “Right.”
Her radio buzzes, announcing ten minutes to stage. You laugh through your nose at the horrible timing, standing as you place your acoustic on the stand again. You turn to her, taking her chin in your hand as you peer deeply into her eyes. “I’ll be here when you realize he can’t give you what I can. When you realize you can’t stay away from me… When you realize everything I ever said was true, and that I’ll grovel at your feet until time stands still if it’ll make you realize the depth of my feelings for you.” You give her flushed face a couple shakes before you release it, stepping toward the doorway. “My wine’s in my bag, baby. Don’t let me down again.”
And with that, you race down the hallway, hearing the sound of your fans screaming your name, ready to give them, and her, the show of a lifetime.
HER POV
If there was any character in the entire world who made you feel as if you wanted to spout obscenities while clawing at their skin, shove their face into the dirt and curse their very name all in hopes that it will all resurface as an emotion of daunting, ferocious admiration, it would be Jake.
He makes you want to run for the hills and desert life as you know it, not caring for anyone or anything that may be standing in your way as you jump over rocks and roots, swim through deathly waters and starve yourself for days on end if it meant that it would be him waiting for you in those very hills you were running toward. Your relationship has been nothing short of hateful, fervid and passionate, the both of you skirting along the lines of vengeance and intimacy so opposite of one another that the toxicity scares you. Or more, encourages you.
Maybe it took the both of you performing grand acts of backstabbing for you to realize that maybe your feelings for him were more than you thought… Maybe being with another man has given you the push you needed to come to terms with the fact that no one has ever made you feel like Jake does. No one has ever made your heart beat as quickly, or your thoughts jumble so effortlessly. He’d put a spell on you, digging his claws into your skin while he raked you along for the ride, and you had hardly even noticed how deep the claws were. Until you watched him realize that he’d made a horrible, horrible mistake.
Being stuck between a rock and a hard place is an understatement; being in a constant state of back-and-forth with Jake had become somewhat of a habit that you’d gotten used to, no matter how disgustingly painful it was to admit. But Murph… Ezra… the unexpected knight in shining armor who’s charm won you over more smoothly than you’d even realized was the part of the story that made it all worth reading. Wholesome, gorgeous, protective and sweet… he’s everything you could ever want in someone if they planned on sticking around for a while.
But your chest didn’t burn for him the same way..
—
Later that night, after you’d obediently made Jake his wine, you join Ty on the side stage to watch the show in peace. You gave him a hefty rundown of everything that has happened the past few days, much the same as you’d given Ruth, without the dirty details, of course. He gave you much of the same advice that she had, telling you that though Jake would never hurt you on purpose, he knows that he made a mistake and would spend the rest of his days paying for it. It hurt to know that he was working to reassure you how real Jake is truly being with you, still.
“I think I’m really just overwhelmed… I got myself into a mess that I can’t dig myself out of, you know what I mean?” you rant to him as you continued to watch the show. “I’m actually kind of happy the tour is almost over. I managed to get myself tied up in a love triangle that’s truly gotten me nowhere.”
“I dunno about nowhere, I’m not on his team, but Murph must really like you if he’s stuck with you through all this drama…” Ty said. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that Murph didn’t even know about your relationship with Jake.
“Do you think I made a mistake, though? Do you think I pushed Jake away for ever?” you ask him, feigning on that same rocky edge.
“No, babe. You didn’t make any mistakes. Do you not know what you’ve done for Jake? Look at him,” Ty motions toward him as he throws his guitar around. “You helped free him. Even if things don’t work out for you, look at him now. Without the burden of Isla tying him down.” You smirk as you do see a different kind of pep in Jake’s step as he performs his most beloved craft.
Like he can hear your conversation, he looks your way, sending you a sweet smile and a wink as he bites his guitar pick between his front teeth. Even after all this bullshit…
You glance down at Murph, walking around the rail with Josh on his shoulders as he passes out white roses, smiling and interacting with their fans as if they were his own.
God, you don’t deserve either one of them.
The guilt that has begun to eat you up sends another wave over your entire body, weighing heavily on your shoulders as you fight to ignore it.
Do you have to choose? Do you have to pick which one of these two men is more deserving of your love?
“What if I can’t choose?” you ask Ty over your shoulder, your arms crossed protectively over your chest.
“Then don’t. You know what I want, and you know what Josh wants, but you have to put your own happiness first, babe. Maybe you should just choose yourself for a while…” he says, lying a sweet hand of comfort on your elbow.
Ty’s words resonate with you as your guilt brings another tear to your eye; you suddenly realize that you haven’t put your own happiness first in quite some time. The real kind. The genuine kind. Come to think of it, you can’t remember the last time you really felt like your absolute self.
As the show wraps up, you make it a point to disappear on purpose, rushing to clean up the craft table and do your duties under the radar so that you can avoid any more conversation tonight. You retreat back to your room unscathed, ready to take it easy for the rest of the night with a book and a glass of cheap hotel wine.
As you drown yourself in chapter 3 of a book you couldn’t really even name, you glance at your phone lying next to you on the bed, the screen quiet and black as you wonder why you haven’t received even a single text message tonight. Maybe everyone felt that you needed some space.
You poke at the screen to light it up, only finding your clock and lock screen looking back at you. You pick it up and roll to your back, mindlessly scrolling social media for a few minutes to numb your mind. You cringe a little as you see professional photographs from the show tonight already littering your instagram feed, photos of Jake honestly looking happier than he ever has.
‘You helped free him…’
Even if Ty’s words were only said to make you feel better, you can’t help but notice that even the photos from tonight really reflected it. You don’t want to take responsibility for it, but it felt nice to know that you might have played a part in helping him to finally realize he needed to stand up for himself, once and for all.
You open the shared playlist, feeling the draw to add a song that said quite the opposite of the ones Ruth had suggested earlier. You scroll around, finally landing on one of your favorites, ‘Give It Time’ by Sierra Ferrell. You hope that he is comfortably laid in his hotel bed much the same as you, and that he gets the notification and feels a little bit better, knowing that you haven’t completely written him off quite yet. You hoped he would catch the drift that you need to step back for a while, reevaluate and recenter, separating yourself from anything and everything for a bit.
You scroll up to the top of the playlist, deciding to play it through from start to finish. “Interlude 1’, let’s revisit you…” you say to yourself as you turn the volume to medium and lie your head down into the pillows, listening to the lyrics of this otherwise very different song. You know this album is one of Jake’s absolute favorites, so maybe it will help to ease the pounding still rolling around in your chest.
‘Like all good fruit, the balance of life
Is in the ripe and ruin…’
Wow. The ripe and ruin…
As the final sip of wine hits your system, your mind starts to spin and find clarity all at the same time. Suddenly those lyrics started to resonate with you.
Ripe, fully prepared. Ready to endure, ready to uphold, sufficient in readiness.
And ruin, devastation. Pure and utter collapse. The slow disintegration of all the mightiness that once was.
“Fuck..” you breathe in a whisper, running a hand over your eyes as the words settled in and felt real. “Was I the ruin all along? Did I ruin it all for myself?” You press pause on the song, suddenly unwilling to listen to any more.
You flip back over and pick up your phone, bringing up your text thread with Ezra.
You
12:46AM: Hey, can we talk?
You fingers tap nervously as you wait a minute or so before seeing his text bubble appear.
Ezra Murphy
12:49AM: Sure, want me to come to your room or
You
12:50AM: Let’s meet, there’s a really cozy fireplace in the lobby that I feel like I need to sit by
Ezra Murphy
12:50AM: See you in a few :) 🔥
It’s only minutes later that you watch as Ezra’s eyes poke around the room off of the lobby, searching for you and the fireplace. He’s in an old gray t-shirt with some type of worn off black lettering, and a pair of slouchy flannel sleeping pants. He looks absolutely delectable.
When his eyes finally find you, he smiles a little, waltzing over to sit beside you on the stone bench beside the fire.
“Are you wearing slippers, Ezra?” you ask, glancing down to his feet.
“It’s 1:00 AM, of course I wasn’t gonna tie my boots back up. Plus, these are lined with fur, and they’re comfy as hell,” he grins as he kicks his sock-clad foot out for you to see.
You giggle as you pull your knees up to your chest, eyeing him adoringly. This is going to suck…
“Is everything okay, babe?” he finally asks, turning his body toward you. “You’ve had me worried ever since I found you cryin’…”
You take a deep breath, preparing for the rage that you just knew he was going to display. “That’s because I was lying to you, Ezra.”
His eyes grow as his jaw falls open a bit, looking for a response. “Lying about what?”
“I was upset, I am upset. I– egh, I’ve actually kind of been lying to you for a while, now. Well, not lying, just– not divulging the whole truth,” you explain, watching as his eyes search for more answers.
You turn completely and cross your legs, taking his hands in yours. “Before you got here, Murph, I uh… I was sleeping with Jake…” the words feel hollow as they burn your throat. “We had become kind of serious? In a way, things were like, moving sort of fast, in a good way and… as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he kind of… has had Isla this entire time,” you explain. Murph’s jaw moves sideways a few times as he crunches his eyes closed, shaking his head in confusion.
“So wait wait wait, he cheated on her with you? I don’t really know the ins and outs of their relationships or anything but… I– that would make sense as to why he’s been a complete jackass to me lately… he was some kind of jealous, fuck…” he rambles.
“He has?!”
“Yeah, but, that’s beside the point…” he waves it off, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward. “Keep going…”
“He didn’t necessarily cheat on her with me, he was under the impression that they had been separated for a while before she even came here, they were in an awful relationship, there was a lot of drama that I don’t really wanna get into right now, but. Nonetheless, he failed to divulge that she even existed. So I cut him off, a while before you even came around. Anyways, this morning I decided I would go to their room and drop off coffee and apologize and I found out that they had… ya know… after he’d said that he basically hated the ground she walked on.”
“So you– you used me? To get back at him?”
“No no, you were a completely separate anomaly to me, Ezra. I’d already distanced myself from him once you came along. But– I just wanted you to know that that happened, and that’s why I was upset this morning, because I found out the hard way that he had slept with her even after telling me he had nothing for her anymore. I was just– a little fucked up over it…”
Murph shakes his head side to side as he huffs out a breath, looking around the room as he puts everything together.
“Thank you for telling me, Y/N,” he says blankly.
“I should have told you a while ago. And I’m sorry, Murph. He shouldn’t be treating you badly, either,” you concede.
“That part doesn't bother me too much. I’m used to my employers kind of treating me that way, but. Now I know why he’s had a change of heart. He saw me as a threat.”
“I don’t think you should look at it that way, Ez–”
“But he kicked Miss Isla to the curb…” he says, making you perk up.
“How do you know that?” you ask.
“I had to escort her to the airport earlier, right before the show. She was a complete mess and wouldn’t even speak to me… word on the street was Jake told her she had to leave.”
You nod, realizing that he’d actually gone through with it this time. He’d actually made arrangements for her to be gone.
“He really likes you, doesn’t he, Y/N?” he asks, his eyelids heavy as they meet yours in the light of the fire. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent her packing, otherwise he wouldn’t have been treating me like dirt…”
“I don’t know, Ezra, maybe. I can’t answer that for him,” you say honestly. “Everything’s just been so fucked up… I realized I was essentially a homewrecker, Isla flew off the handle, Jake was mad at her, I was mad at him… it was all just. A lot. And now I just– wanted to clear the air. With you, with everyone. I think I just need a little while to… ya know. Regroup.” Your heart hurts as you watch his face fall, you really don’t want this. You don’t want things to be this way. And then you remember the lyrics. Like all good fruit…
“I’m so sorry about all of this, Ezra. I just want you to know that you weren’t some type of rebound or whatever, and I don’t want you to think I used you in retaliation. I was into you… am into you, very much so,” you explain with as much conviction as you can muster. “I hope you can understand where I stand with it all, right now.”
He’s silent for a second as he nods his head. “Thank you for listening to me, and not getting too mad at me, I hope. I’ve never met anyone else like you before, Ezra. You’re so easy, so laid back and sure of yourself. And I really appreciate you making me feel loved while our paths crossed.”
You can tell he’s a little distraught, but at the same time, you’ve got to ignore it.
“I appreciate you telling me the truth, Y/N, even though I wish you would’ve done it a little sooner,” he smiles a side smirk, making your heart skip a beat.
“I wish I would have too,” you say quietly, listening as the fire begins to crackle.
“So, what do you want?” he finally asks, his eyes full of false hope.
“I want– I think I just need to love myself for a little bit. Step back. I’m very much eaten up with guilt and strange taste right now, and I don’t want to put those vibes onto anyone else, if that makes sense,” you try your best to explain. “My mind is in so many places that I don’t think I can even think straight if I wanted to.”
He nods slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. “I get that. I could feel the tension within them, I understand.” He sends you a reassuring smile as he places a hand on your knee. “You were really good while you lasted, baby. Wish things could have gone a little differently. Don’t ever forget that,” he says.
“I want to still stay friends, Ezra. Just because I’m distancing myself doesn’t mean we have to completely write each other off,” you laugh. “You brighten my days too much for me to forget about you.”
He stifles a laugh through his nose. “So, friends?” he asks, holding a hand out.
“Yes. Friends. Please, I still need you to have my back,” you say with a joking tone.
“That won’t ever change, babe,” he says, standing the both of you up as you begin to walk to the elevator. You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you stand outside the elevator doors, waiting for them to open so you can see him off.
“Forgot you’re on the ground floor,” he says. “See you bright and early?”
You give him a quick salute. “Bright and early.”
“Night, babe,” he says quietly, and you watch as the elevator doors close across the vision of his face.
Back in your room, you tap your phone again, realizing that a good night’s sleep isn’t going to find you tonight. Oh well, you presume… a nap in your downtime will definitely be in the cards. Just as you’re getting comfortable in your puffy sheets, your phone buzzes with the first notification you’ve gotten all night.
‘Jake has added a song to the shared playlist: 🐥’
Oh my god… he saw it.
You unlock your phone and scroll to the bottom, seeing that he had added a song that you hadn’t heard in many years, one that reminds you of your high school years, going to your first festivals and discovering a new type of music that you’d yet to delve into. ‘I Will Wait’ by Mumford and Sons.
Of course. Of course he will wait.
You feel a shudder of emotions that you can’t quite comprehend, knowing that despite it all, he still is sticking to his guns.
…So you decide to stick to yours.
You close the playlist, pulling up the itinerary for the remainder of the tour and pinning in certain places you want to visit, and things you want to see. Places you will most likely be visiting alone. Tears prickle at your eyes as you remember all the sweet things Jake had done for you, all the things that he’d said, all the love that you’d made… so for the second time today, you let yourself feel it. Let yourself bask in the sadness so that tomorrow, hopefully, you’ll have emptied all the tears you had left, leaving absolutely none left to cry.
—
December 7
Departing Lisbon, Portugal
You know those redemption scenes at the end of romcom movies where the main character is walking around, looking at all of their ex friends, ex foes, and exes, giving them all reassuring smiles and small waves while the sun shines above them, and upbeat pop music plays in the background?
That’s how the days following your conversation with Murph had gone. Exactly like that. The animosity that had been sewing itself into the fibers of everyone’s beings had suddenly up and left, being replaced with something more joyful than you could have anticipated.
Everyone felt a new air of peace surrounding the last few shows, and you spent your time burying yourself in your work, instead of worrying about what kind of argument was right around the corner.
Jake treated you like a friend and coworker, offering nothing more but cheerful ‘good mornings’ and ‘goodnights’, giving you space to cordially speak to him first, and avoiding adding any more songs to the playlist. Ezra acted like nothing at all had happened, and he even caught you in a hallway once, telling you that Jake had come to him and apologized for treating him so badly.
It truly seemed as though everyone had turned a new leaf.
As you walk through the airport parking lot ready to catch the flight back home to Nashville, you suddenly feel Mia at your side.
“Hey!” she chirps, the wind blowing her hair across her face.
“Hey!” you respond with just as much glee. You hadn’t really gotten a chance to speak with Mia one on one since the day that Lyla and Isla left, you being left with the feeling that maybe she still held some distaste for you.
“Hey listen uh, I was just wondering if you’d want to get some coffee with me… one day, when we get back home? There’s this new little shop around the corner from mine and Danny’s and I really wanna try it out, I’ve heard excellent things,” she says, catching you completely off guard.
“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure! That sounds really fun, actually,” you say, not willing to turn her down in any way.
“Great! Cool!” she replies as you both walk, a strange silence falling between you. “Hey um, I just… wanted you to know that I’m really sorry about how everything went down, with Isla and everything. I never really liked her, if I’m being honest, and… I just don’t want you to think that I’m that kind of person, too.”
Oh. Ohhhhh.
“Oh, no, Mia, you don’t have to apologize. Everything just got so fucked up and confusing and stupid, I think we were all just making really bad decisions and things just snowballed…”
“I agree. Still doesn’t make how she treated you any more right. How we all treated you. I should have told you about their master plan to get Isla here the minute they got her plane ticket. Poor Jake. I know now that she was so manipulative of him, and that is on me. I should have warned you both. I never even told Danny,” she admits, letting her face fall.
“Seems like she manipulated more than just Jake then, huh?” you ask, suddenly making sense of it all.
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Lyla is… she’s gone too, actually,” she says with a little bit of melancholy in her voice. “Broke things off with Sam. But I think he is like, really okay with it,” she snaps back into a laugh.
“Is she?!” you squeal. “Wow, I guess I hadn’t even bothered to notice…”
“How things have changed, huh?” she asks as she opens the doors for you. “Anyways, I’ll see you on the plane. And I’ll text you one day later this week?”
“Yeah, sounds great. Thanks for chatting with me, Mia,” you say.
“Sure thing, babe,” she says with a wink, darting off to find Danny and the rest.
JAKE POV
“Are you positive that’s her seat?” you ask Paul quietly from the jetbridge, keeping an eye on her as you see her walking ten or so people back from you.
“Positive,” he says with a bit of sarcasm.
“Thank you. Good man,” you reply as you pat his shoulder, rushing ahead through the hordes of people boarding the plane ahead of you.
You rush to find her seat, eyeing the rows as you finally find it. You shove your hand in your pocket, gripping the crisp hundred to make sure it’s still there, ready to be used just in case this goes south. There’s a middle aged man sitting in the seat beside hers, already kicked back comfortably with his headphones on. You tap his shoulder, getting his attention as he pulls his music away.
“Hey, sorry to disturb you, but would you be interested in exchanging seats with me?” you ask with a little bit of haste in your voice.
The man scoffs as he glances to his left. “It’s a window seat, buddy. Don’t think so,” he replies, pulling his headphones back up.
“Please, sir… I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need to sit here,” you plead, hoping he can hear the urgency in your voice. But yet again, he meets you with nothing.
“Would this change your mind?” you ask, pulling out the hundred from your pocket and straightening it hard in his face. “Might get you a few cocktails at your layover… plus, I’d be switching you for first class.” You raise and lower your eyebrows a few times as you suck your lip in, hoping the last ditch effort will take effect.
The man pauses and pulls his music away again. “First class? Why didn’t you say so?” he boasts, slapping his hand across the bill in your grasp as he stands and begins gathering his carry-on.
“Thank you, thank you,” you reply as you let him step by you, tossing your own backpack into the seat as you shake his hand. “Have a nice rest of your day, sir.”
“Sure thing,” he replies, and you know he was busy trying to figure out why you just paid him to take your first class seat. You plop into the uncomfortable chair, crossing your hands together as your elbows lie on the rests, waiting for her to approach the row.
Your eyes close on their own accord as you pull your sunglasses back down, huffing a sigh of relief that phase one of your plan has officially commenced. Finally you feel her presence, gorgeous as ever as she is lost in her own little world, listening to her music and maneuvering her things between the tight rows of seats. She finally sits down beside you, completely unaware that it’s actually you sitting there. You smirk as she drops her bag, out of breath and flustered as she makes herself comfortable. How she doesn’t even clock you, you don’t know.
Just as she finally gets situated, her elbow knocks into yours, so you knock it back. “Excu– Jake?! What the hell are you– why are you sitting here? I thought they got you first class on this trip…”
You smile with all of your teeth. “They did? You’re kidding, that explains why literally everyone else isn’t here…shit,” you playfully look around, hitting yourself in the head as if you hadn’t even realized.
“Cut it, Jake. How did you mix up your own seat?!” she asks, wiping a few flyaways from her face. The smell of her perfume almost envelops you, sweet and sultry as you breathe her in for the first time in way too many days.
“I didn’t mix it up. I just don’t like fucking with tradition,” you reply, crossing one leg over the other as you relax comfortably back into your seat.
“Tradition?” she asks, her voice deflated as she rolls her eyes.
“Yes. Tradition. We came to Europe on a plane side by side, we should leave Europe on a plane side by side. We shouldn’t fuck with it, might be bad luck,” you say cheekily.
She smiles, but only a little bit. “Jake, this entire trip was bad luck, honestly…”
You take a deep breath in agreement. “Touche, okay, but what if this plane ride home reverses that, and makes it good luck?” you ramble, honestly just saying words at this point. Anything to make her smile again. Make her cheeks turn that perfect shade of blush again… “We can’t discount fate, Y/N. It’d be foolish to do so. And neither you, nor I, are foolish.”
She bites her teeth together, stretching her neck. “You’re really crazy, you know that?” she finally smiles wholly.
There she is.
You rustle with your watch hanging on your wrist, noticing it’s almost time for takeoff. “I know. But can you blame me?”
She shakes her head. “No, no I really can’t, after getting to know you and all your baggage…”
“Ohhhh! My baggage, huh?” you cross your legs again. “Well I’m here to tell you babe, that the only baggage I am bringing home is this backpack. And my suitcases. And the thousands of dollars worth of guitars and gear. But that’s it! That’s all this time!”
Finally, she laughs. A real laugh. “Again, you’re really stupid. And honestly, why should I even believe you?” she counters. “Seems as though our relationship was solely based on lies from the get-go, hm?” Her voice had fallen a bit toward the end there, and you swear you felt a dagger shoot through your chest for the thousandth time in the past month. Twisting and turning itself as you realize the guilt is never going to go away.
Her eyes meet yours with a heaviness, almost as if she’s asking you to pour your heart out, one more good time. After all, the morning she came to your room with three coffees seemed as if it was going to be full of good intention, but you just never gave her the chance to say her piece.
“I deserve that,” you nod. You feel the plane begin to shake as it prepares to take off, the pilot coming over the loudspeaker to announce departure. The two of you look out the window as the early morning sun begins to rise over the city, the tall buildings casting long shadows that look as if they reach for miles. You feel her shoulder press against yours as the plane begins to rush down the runway, finally taking off to make its way above the clouds.
You rise higher and higher in the sky, the bottomless pit sensation making your stomach fall as you ascend. When the plane finally evens out and your vertigo subsides, you notice her eyes still trained on the scenery outside. “Come on, look how gorgeous…” you suggest, urging her to lean closer and get a better view of what’s now below you.
She hesitantly leans again, the smell of her shampoo prevalent in her still-damp hair as she reaches across you. You breathe it in, memorize it, savor it as you know that this flight could be the very last time you ever feel her closeness. You feel her sigh as you both take it all in, leaving the place that saw both the downfall and redemption of one of the most convoluted experiences of your life thus far.
“It’s truly beautiful there, isn’t it?” she mutters, almost too quietly to hear.
“Yeah, it really is…” you agree as you feel her relax back in her seat again, breathing a sigh of relief as the plane hits a little bit of turbulence.
You decide to take the opportunity to speak again during this moment of shared adoration, hoping that the peacefulness of being miles in the sky mixes well with the eagerness you both have to finally get home again.
“Y/N, I’m gonna say something, and you don’t have to believe me, fuck, you don’t even have to listen. And I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but… from the bottom of my heart, I want you to know that it’s the god’s honest truth. All of it.” You swallow as your words sound sheepish, quiet in the grand scheme of things when all you want to do is yell from the rooftops if it’d mean she’d listen. “Okay?”
“Oh–Okay…” she spouts, turning a little to show her attention. Her hands are gripping each other tightly, wringing against themselves as she knows she can’t get up and walk away from this.
“I know I lied to you, held out on the absolute truth from the very beginning. That wasn’t me, Y/N, it never was me. I’d lived in this… this bubble for a really long time. Even though I thought I was happy, I knew deep down that I wasn’t, and it was only getting worse as time went on. I became the worst version of myself, Isla did too. I think in some weird, fucked up way, we brought the worst out in each other. The toxicity. And hers came from a place of possession, mine came from a place of my inability to communicate with her, I guess. Either way, I know I’ve told you the whole story a hundred times, but it took this trip for me to realize how much more me I finally felt when I boarded that plane to leave that day. And how much more me I felt when we started talking. Fuck, it was like I was physically finally far enough away from my demons that the clouds kind of dissipated, I don’t know.”
You finally make a bit of eye contact with her, and she gives you a small smile, placing her hand on your arm as she knows this is a difficult topic. Either way, you persevere.
“It hurts to admit this, and I’m not sure that I have ever really said it out loud, but… I’m fully aware of the fact that I was in somewhat of an emotionally manipulative relationship, and I allowed myself to fall victim to it, for everyone around me to fall victim to it. I know that I’m stronger than that. Did I have my faults? Of course, I’m not blind to that realization, either. But when you fall into that routine, it sort of becomes you, I guess. And I know for a fact that the decisions I’ve made in the past few weeks are just the ghosts of that. The lingering feelings, the bullshit I was too stupid to see past.” Your voice is grated as you give her your speech, one that you know you would give a thousand times if it would give you her forgiveness. Her hand flits up underneath her chin as she rests it, giving you her full attention now, her face riddled with concern and sympathy.
“Sorry, I can shut up if you want me to, babe,” you laugh.
“No no, go on, please…” she says, reaching to take your hand in her grasp. Her palms, so warm and inviting as she gives your fingertips a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay.”
You huff an exhale. “Y/N, I am not kidding you in the least when I tell you that you helped pull me from that place. Helped me realize so much. You put a mirror in front of my face that gave me the courage to finally extract myself from that situation. You–You made me feel the blood in my veins again, made me feel that urge in the pit of my stomach to want again, in every sense of the word. Hell, you can ask Josh, I’ve written four songs just on this trip alone,” you jest.
“Have you really?!” she asks, her tone warm as her lips part into the most perfect smile.
“Yeah,” you laugh, running your free hand over your mouth. “We’ll see if they go anywhere. But anyway…”
You sit on your thoughts for another few seconds, letting them simmer as your throat continues to tighten. But it feels cathartic in a way, spilling your emotions. It's always been so easy to share with her.
“I hate the way things ended between you and I, and I can’t take back the decisions that I made and the actions that followed them, and I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. I just wanted you to know that you’ve been the biggest light in my life for a while now, and you gave me the strength to get my dignity back. And I can’t thank you enough for that.” You squeeze her hand again as you see the tears piling up in her eyes. “Just your presence has been enough to make me appreciate my life again. Appreciate the things in front of me, make me lust for them again. And I know that when we get home, we might not ever talk again, you’ll probably move on and tour with someone else, but just know I hold no animosity toward you, and I hope that we can stay friends.”
On your last word, a single tear finally falls on her cheek, a clear indication that her emotions are all over the place, too.
“Please don’t cry, Y/N,” you whisper as you run your thumb along her tear line to catch the next one, threatening to fall just like the first. “You’re too pretty to cry.”
She pulls away and wipes them herself, fanning her face as she sniffles them away. “God, Jake, you know… you’re so easy to hate.”
Her words take your breath; all the revelations and admissions you just shared seemingly for nothing as she continues to clear her tears away. You open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off.
“So easy to hate, but so, so fucking easy to love, too.”
You shake your head in confusion, your heart suddenly ripping itself from your ribcage. “What do you mean?” you mumble, barely audibly.
She swallows as she regains her composure, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leans her head back onto the headrest, eyeing you deeply.
“I didn’t realize, at first, how much I really felt for you. How much emotion I wasn’t even letting myself feel, because I didn’t even know it was there. While we were sleeping together, and you were being so fucking sweet to me, it was so perfect, and so nice. I guess I just ignored it because I’d never really been treated that genuinely before. Never had someone pursue me so consistently and with so much momentum. But now I know, after everything, it was there. I felt it, and it was real. Even if I tried to ignore it, I felt something really, really intense with you.”
Felt. She felt that way.
You brush away another tear, mirroring her and lying your head back on your headrest, too… your faces only within inches of one another.
“Everything felt like a whirlwind, you know? It happened fast, and there were so many vengeful actions, even if we didn’t wanna call them that. We were both fucking stupid, you know?” she continues.
You nod. “Yeah. We were. But I guess I’m glad to know you felt the same way I did, even if we were both too stubborn to really admit it.”
“You admitted it to me just fine, Jake. I was the one hiding from it all. And now I understand, I see that everything you said came from a place of authenticity, and I’m really sorry you had to go through all of that with Isla. That’s all so fucked up…”
You sigh and continue to brush at her cheek, wishing that things could have gone so differently, but ready to accept the fact that nothing in life worth fighting for is ever easy. And if this was the fight you’d have to be entangled in to get her back, so be it.
“It’s alright. She’s out of the house now. Lyla texted me a couple days ago and said they’d found an apartment and would ‘No longer be a burden’ to me and Sam. Whatever. I’m just glad to have my home back to myself,” you reply, noticing you’re antsy to get home and rot on your couch in peace.
Y/N smiles, turning her face to press a quick and sweet kiss to your thumb, the action nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. “That’s good. I’m proud of you, Jake. It took a lot of courage to stand up to her like that,” she says.
“Yeah… no more shackles,” you smile, grabbing her chin between your fingers. The two of you stay caught up in this position for a while, neither of you saying much else while you stare into each other’s eyes, sharing sweet wordless smiles every so often that make you feel even more at peace than you were before.
It’s all out now, everything you wanted to say now existing in the air between you instead of bottled up in your chests. You know nothing is in your hands, anymore. You’re well aware that the universe has to take charge and draw out the map for your next journey. You know where you want it to lead, though, you know where you want to end up. But as of late you’ve learned to let things take their course, because if you try to force destiny before it’s ready, it will swallow you like quicksand, leaving nothing behind in its wake but broken hearts and words left unsaid.
“Friends, Y/N?” you ask, finally breaking the stare.
She takes your hand again, interlacing your fingers together as you feel the threat of sleep taking over.
“Yeah, Jake. Really good friends.”
—
Late September 2024, Nine Months Later
Nashville, TN
HER POV
“I’m positive, Ruth. Go with the green one with the low neckline. It’s so flattering on your collarbones and he will go crazy,” you try and convince your friend as she works to pick an outfit for her blind date.
“How do you know that, bitch? I don’t even know what this man looks like, let alone that he will think my collarbones are flattering!” she barks, tossing another outfit onto the bed in front of her. “Give me a whole ass break.”
“What’s got your panties in a bunch? Are you really this nervous? You go on dates like this all the time!” you argue, raising your voice.
“Yes, I’m nervous, okay? My coworker said that me and this guy are like two peas in a pod and she could see me marrying him. Do you know how insane that sounds, Y/N?! I can’t marry someone, ew!” she responds as she slips out of the frame, still frazzled as she throws on another dress. “Ugh, this looks ugly, too. That’s it, I’m not going. I’m texting her right now and canceling–”
“The fuck you are, Ruth!” you yell as she picks the phone up and brings the screen close to her face. “You’re going on this date, and you’re wearing the gree– oh my god. Oh my god?” you say suddenly, your heart falling to your stomach as you sit back down on your bed. “Holy shit holy shit holy shit.”
“What? What?!” Ruth asks. “What’s wrong?”
You’re breathless as you stare at your screen in disbelief, your jaw hanging slack as you fight to find the words.
“Y/N!!! Answer me!” Ruth shouts.
“Oh, sorry sorry, um. Jake just… just added a song to our playlist…”
“What?! Jake??? Like Jake, Jake? How long has it been since you talked to him?” she asks, panic written all over her face.
“Since that day at the airport when we got home from Europe, almost nine months ago…” you say, your voice void of any emotion as you try your hardest to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “We–we decided to cut ties… just be friends…”
“Oh my fuck, Y/N, this is huge. Right? What song is it? What did he add?”
“It’s called Reasons For Waiting? By Jethro Tull? I’ve never heard of this… OH my god Ruth he texted. Oh my god what do I do help me,” you ramble, your heartrate picking up speed as you feel your hands grow sweaty from the singular notification buzz.
“Read the text, you idiot! And read it out loud!” she commands, tilting back her bottle of Twisted Tea she had been pregaming on.
“Okay okay,” you say, clicking away from the facetime and over to your texts, your hands shaking as you click on the name you hadn’t read in months, though you thought about every single day.
Jake
6:27PM: Hey stranger, hope you’re well. Was just hanging out and listening to music and some Alt-J came on, made me think of you.
6:28PM: I went and saw that I still have our playlist saved, and noticed the last song I added was I Will Wait, and I’m sure you saw I added another song just now. I know you weren’t there for it, but during our last tour, this song played to the crowd every night right before we came on stage. It was always one of our favorites, especially mine. Kind of hits home in a lot of ways, and it sort of became the song that connected all of us to our fans, in a way. Anyway, I thought it would be a nice follow up to the one before it, so give it a listen if you don’t know it already. Let me know how you like it 🙂
“Oh my fucking god, babe. Go play it so I can hear too,” she says, and you click play on the song, still holding every ounce of the breath left in your lungs. The two of you listen to the song play out, paying special attention to the words and how the lyrics connect. At the song’s close, your hand flies up over your mouth as you fight the tears, the song already feeling familiar as your faint memories of hearing the guys sing or play it while you were in Europe last year come falling back.
“I remember it, Ruth. They played it all the time, Josh would hum it, Jake would play parts of it on his acoustic… I… What do I even do with this?” you say, your throat constricting with old memories.
“Y/N, sweetie, this was an invitation. He reached out, finally… right?” Ruth says with a newfound softness in her voice. “You might not have noticed it, but you bring up Jake every single day, in one way or another, did you know that?”
“I do?”
“Yes. You do. You miss him, Y/N, and this was quite literally him saying he misses you, too. He had his reasons for waiting for you, and he has waited, it looks like. For a long time. Text him back.”
“No!” you shout, feeling a fear like no other. “I can’t! What will I even say?! It’s been almost a year, I–”
“Tell him you liked the song. Tell him you loved it, and that you remember hearing it. He’s just looking for contact, Y/N. Extending an olive branch. Maybe all this time apart is just what you needed,” she says, slipping back into the green dress you decided on earlier. “Does he still live in the same place?”
“I don’t know, how would I know?!” you ask, still panicked and teary.
“Ask him, strike up conversation. You can do it, Y/N,” Ruth urges as she finishes getting dressed and putting her heels on. “I love you, but I have to go, I’m already late for my Uber. But I want screenshots of the texts, and updates on everything, okay?”
You take a deep breath, letting the emotions level out. “Okay. Okay yeah. I’ll text him back.”
“Alright. Love you, good luck and godspeed my bitch,” Ruth salutes as she hangs up the phone, leaving you staring at the text thread with Jake. You huff a sigh, trying to hype yourself up to type the text you’ve been wanting to type for nine months.
You
6:39PM: Hey 😌 I remember that song well, actually. But I will admit, it sounded better coming from your acoustic
His text bubble pops up almost immediately, as if he was waiting for your reply.
Jake
6:40PM: I don’t know about all that, now, but I appreciate the compliment
You
6:41PM: How are you? Overseas again?
Jake
6:42PM: I’m well, thanks… And no, we just got back from a leg in Australia and New Zealand, actually. Enjoying being back home
You:
6:43PM: Wow, I bet that was amazing. And home is…
Jake
6:43PM: …still Nashville, yes
6:44PM: Actually just put the finishing touches on my back porch fire pit.
6:44PM: *attachment*
The photo showed what looked to be his yard, a few wooden benches surrounding a metal fire pit with an already roaring fire. Jake’s feet were propped up on the pavers that bordered it, holding up a bottle of a beer you’d never seen before.
You
6:45PM: That looks so nice!
6:46PM: Though, I did spy that entire bag of unopened marshmallows sitting beside you…
Jake
6:46PM: I’m about to tear into them now. But, I don’t think I can eat them all on my own
You
6:47PM: I think I know someone who would be willing to help you put a dent in them at least, if you needed assistance…
Your heart pounds as you watch his text bubble fly up, immediately regretting inviting yourself over to his house after so long of having no contact at all. What the fuck, Y/N? He could have someone coming over already, he could have a completely new life, now. Regret, abort, unsend!
Jake
6:49PM: I most definitely need assistance. I’ll drop you a pin
6:49PM: Drive safe, see you soon 😉
His forwardness ignites a feeling in your stomach that you haven’t felt in a long while as you screenshot the texts, sending them straight to Ruth. You toss your phone onto your bed, and rush back to your closet to find the perfect outfit to go and see Jake again, for what would hopefully be the first of many bonfire dates to come.
JAKE POV
Rushing to tidy up your place would be an understatement; you truly hadn’t planned on the conversation with Y/N going so well, so when she replied that she was almost there, you felt a wave of excitement that could only be cured by finally seeing her in the flesh again.
Your hands are jittery, your palms are sweaty, and the anxiety in your core has you reeling, but you know it's for good reason. She’s really coming, she’s really almost here…
You throw another log onto the fire as you hear tires in your driveway, just as the sun is starting to set lower in the sky. You brush yourself off as you walk through your house, taking a second to check your appearance in the mirror as you pass by it. You crack the door open to find her already walking up the steps to your front porch, dressed in the prettiest yellow sundress you’re positive you’ve ever seen. Your breath escapes your lungs as she looks at you, gorgeous and beaming as ever.
“Hey there,” you manage to get out as your heart pounds, “Thanks for coming.”
Her cheeks blush that perfect pink that you always loved so much as you grab her up in a little hug, her arms pulling you in tighter as you finally make contact. Her body still feels so good, so perfect as you feel your skin magnetically connect to hers. You both pull away, a flush of nerves overtaking the both of you after not having seen each other for so long. You make your way inside and back out to the fire. “Of course, how could I turn down free marshmallows?”
You guide her to the other empty seat and watch as she tucks her dress beneath her, sitting back comfortably. You grab a beer from the box beside you, cracking it open and handing it off to her. “Oh, so it was the marshmallows that got you here. If I would have known that, I would have sent you that photo months ago…” you quip, taking a sip from your beer.
“Thought you were still traveling the world months ago?” she asks, her voice buttery soft as her lips connect with the bottle.
“I was,” you laugh, leaning back in your seat, as well.
“Australia, huh? How was that?”
“Fucking amazing,” you say. “We love it there. Feels like a whole other world. But I will say it feels good to be back here, back on my turf, in my home. Finally, my home,” you say, trying to insinuate that you were, in fact, still single.
“You never let Isla come back?” she presses, getting straight to the point.
You shake your head with furiosity. “Hell no. No. We haven’t spoken.”
“Good for you, Jake,” she says, her voice still absolutely dripping with honey as you take a second to admire her in the dimming sunlight. The fire is casting bright beams onto her face and exposed chest, and you have to remind yourself that this is just a cordial visit. Between friends. Just catching up.
You clear your throat. “And you…? Find another super cool band to run for?”
She smiles as she shakes her head. “No, I traveled a lot, though. Took some time, went out West, visited Ruth and some family… I actually did the paperwork today to make myself available to tour again. Think I’m ready to get back out there.” She cocks an eyebrow as she crosses her legs, taking another long drag of her drink.
You’re almost speechless as you watch her move; somehow she seems so much more sure of herself, now… so confident and comfortable in her own skin. Not that she wasn’t before, but something has switched.
“Is that right?” you say, leaving the question open-ended to be discussed another time. “Have you uh, have you talked to Murph?”
You’d contemplated not touching on the subject at all, but you figured there is no better time than the present to go ahead and rip off the bandaid, if there was to be one.
She smiles as she bobs her head up and down. “Yep, have the wedding invitation hanging on my fridge. You going?”
Your heart warms at the thought, knowing that just nine short months ago, the three of you were caught up in something you were sure you’d never pull yourself from. But now, as time has held hands with destiny again, you find yourselves in a whole different dimension.
“Of course I’m going!” you reply. “It’s our turn to take care of him while he gets too damn drunk to function. He and I uh, actually got kind of close on this last leg, we’re actually more alike than I thought we were,” you explain, pulling open the bag of marshmallows.
“Wow!” she says. “And to think…”
“I know. Hindsight is 20/20. We talked it out, got over it. You know he got back with his ex a couple of months after we got home from Europe… she showed up on his doorstep saying everything was a mistake, how much she missed him and all that. Next thing we knew we were going to their housewarming party, and he was sending Danny photos of rings.”
“You’re kidding me…” she says as you watch an overwhelming expression of sweetness and longing cover her face, her hand clutching at her heart as her lips pout.
“Yep. We helped him decide on one. Got her a rock, too. He was so happy, Y/N. You know how he’s already so happy-go-lucky… he’s like a big ball of laughter and elation, now. Man’s head over heels. I like her, too. Sweet girl that gets those big googly eyes when she’s around him,” you say, internally laughing at the whole situation and how things have ended up.
“That’s so good, Jake. I’m actually really, so very happy for him,” she says as she stares into the fire, going silent for a few seconds. You lift a marshmallow from the bag and toss it at her face, breaking her from her trance into the flames. “Hey!!” she squeals, picking it off her lap to throw back at you.
“You mean you’re not jealous?!” you ask with faux surprise.
“Of course I’m not jealous,” she says, again showing her maturity. She leans over and dips her hand deep into the bag of marshmallows on your lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d bargain that she left her hand there for a second longer than she needed to as her fingertips graze your inner thigh through the bag. She pulls one out, taking a big bite of it. “But I probably will need a date to the wedding, though… if you have any ideas of anyone I could ask…”
You feel your lips curl up into a cheeky grin, hoping, praying that she means what you think she does.
“Funny, I was gonna go stag, but… if you’d like some arm candy, I think I could like, hold your purse for you,” you tease, taking a bite of a marshmallow yourself as your eyes dig into hers.
“You might want to start taking some dancing lessons now, Jake. You’ve got three months to learn how to do the Electric Slide and the Wobble,” she quips, shoving your shoulder. You take the opportunity to grip the handle of her chair, scooting her toward you so that your shoulders touch.
You lean in close to her, pulling a bit of hair behind her ear. “The only dancing I’ll be doing is slow dancing, with my wedding date…”
You feel her swallow hard at your bold words and close proximity, but you hold true to it. To it all. It’s always been true.
You place a firm hand on the back of her neck, expecting her to pull away, but she doesn’t. She moves in even closer, brushing her lips across yours as you just barely breathe in the essence of the sugar still on them.
Her eyes flash up to yours as you hear her breath catch, and you know the fact that she isn’t pulling away is very telling. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Y/N?” you breathe.
“You mean these marshmallows aren’t dinner?” she asks, her cuteness almost too much as you can’t hold back a giggle.
“No. I’m making pasta primavera. Very fancy and difficult and special…” you say, tightening your grip on her neck again as her lips ghost yours.
“Mmm, sounds like you might need a hand. I should probably… stay and help…”
“You should… stay and help…” you take your hand from around the back of her neck, moving it slowly to grasp her jaw, pulling her slowly into a kiss that feels like it was a hundred years coming. Soft and gentle as you taste her again, your lips barely pressed together as you hear her slow inhale. Peaceful and right. So incredibly right. You part yours a little to let her in, wanting to feel her warmth again more than anything else. She feels so familiar yet so different, the sweetness of the whole exchange overtaking your ability to think straight.
You feel her smile onto you as you disconnect, giving yourselves both a second to come back down to earth.
“I’m… sorry, that was…” you say as you press your fingers to your lips.
“Old habits die hard,” she laughs, the sound of it making you squirm with nerves.
You’re both unable to speak for a minute or so, and you know for a fact that she is reeling just the same as you are. “So, you want to come inside?” you ask, finally standing and brushing your hands across your shorts.
“Yeah, give me the grand tour….” she says, standing and following you through the yard. You stop and take her in, watching as her face is lit up and bashful from the kiss you both had been longing for for so long, now.
You hold out your hand, urging her to take it as you top the steps, ready to start fresh with the only woman who has ever made you feel whole, and hoping that she’ll stay for more than just dinner.
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We made this one extra long for you as a thank you for your patience.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
HER POV
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Isla coos. “I have heard all about you.”
She what?
“About me?” you ask, a little taken aback.
She grins and shrugs, dropping your hand as she eyes you, “Oh you know, just things…Little snippets here and there. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in this little circle of ours.”
You look over to Jake who is looking at you with a pleading expression. He knows he’s been caught. You quickly turn your attention back to Isla and swallow down your nerve, “Any impression I’ve made has been unintentional.”
She lets out a laugh that borders on the edge of fake, “Oh of course it was, love. You strike me as just the type that stumbles into leaving a lasting impression.”
You give her a fake smile, pretending that her subtle jab didn’t affect you, “Maybe so. Really was so nice to meet you, but I have a few things I need to deal with before we leave,” you say, nodding to her and resettling your purse on your shoulder.
Her fake smile never falters, “Ah, yes. Duty calls I suppose.” She turns to glance at Jake who is standing frozen next to her, refusing to pay her any mind. Her jaw hardens as you walk away, noticing that Jake’s eyes seem to be fixated on you instead of her.
You make your way over to Murph, pulling your suitcase behind you, hoping no one can see the steam pouring from your ears. As you step up next to him, he cuts his conversation with Dean short, turning to look at you.
“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” he asks, looking over your shoulder towards the group you just left.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” you lie, taking a deep breath.
His brow furrows as he studies your face, squeezing your bicep in a reassuring gesture. You can tell that he knows you’re lying, but he knows better than to press for more.
Thankfully the transport vans arrive outside, and the dizzying situation at hand seems to fade away in the chaos of getting to the airport. You were thankful to be in the crew van, as far away as possible from Jake and Isla. You spent most of the ride combing through your email and catching up on texts you’d ignored the past few days, and before you knew it you had arrived at Departures.
As you made your way through security you noticed Jake’s eyes on you. You noticed again at the coffee stand. Then again as you tried to read your book at your boarding gate. You refused to look his way, but you could feel his eyes on you. You knew he wanted to talk, but you wanted to hear nothing that he had to say. You wonder why he is so focused on you when Isla is sitting next to him. Shouldn’t he be more concerned with her? You continue to ignore him, pretending to read the words on the pages in front of you, and letting your mind race with thoughts of Murph. Murph who just so happened to be peeking up at you over the edge of his phone. A smile graced your lips for the first time today as you saw him raise his brows, a silent ‘hello’.
By stroke of luck you found yourself seated in the row with Josh and Ty, both of them offering you the window seat instead of the aisle. A wave of relief washes over you as you chat with Ty, everything about him making you feel at home. You laugh at almost everything he says, and you can see why Josh loves him so much. As you lean forward to grab your phone from your bag you notice Murph sitting across the aisle, his leg crossed over his knee as he scrolls through his phone, looking up just in time to catch you staring. He sends you a playful wink as you sit back and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.
“So,” Ty says, raising a brow. You know what he wants to talk about, the two of you have been dancing around the subject for the last hour.
“So…” you continue, pretending to be unaffected.
He turns to look over his shoulder just slightly, noticing Jake and Isla seated directly behind you. “So, lovely weather we got this morning…”
“Mmhmm…” you hum, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You grab your phone and pull up Ty’s contact, quickly typing into the box.
You
10:06AM: I feel like this is safer
Ty
10:06AM: It is, I know she is totally listening to every word we are saying
You
10:07AM: I had no idea
Ty
10:07AM: None of us did
10:08AM: Actually, I bet the bitches did
You
10:08AM: The bitches?! I thought we liked them?
Ty
10:09AM: We do, away from her. With her… Nightmare.
10:10AM: They totally planned this. Did you see them snickering when you walked up?
You
10:10AM: Yeah, sort of, I was a little caught off guard and didn’t know who to look at first lol
You can hear a shrill laugh from behind you, causing your skin to crawl as Ty shoots you an annoyed look. At this point she has thrown every compliment in the book at Jake, and you’ve heard nothing but one word mumbles come from him.
Ty
10:11AM: Gag me, she is so fake
You
10:12AM: She really doesn’t strike me as Jake’s type.
Ty
10:12AM: She’s not
You
10:13AM: How do you know?
Ty
10:14AM: Honey, I’m dating his twin
You
10:14AM: Fair point lol
“Hey, I have to pee, can I get out?” you ask, finally speaking again.
“Sure, sure,” Josh says, letting you slide out of the seat and into the aisle, making your way to the lavatory at the back of the plane.
As you lock yourself into the tiny box you let out a sigh, quickly relieving yourself and washing your hands as you look at your appearance in the tiny bathroom mirror. You fix your hair a bit and straighten your shirt before unlocking the door to make your way back to your seat. However, when you open it, you’re face to face with Jake.
You meet his eyes, quickly snapping them away.
“Y/N, please, just two seconds,” he pleads, pulling his hands from his pockets.
You bite the inside of your cheek as you begrudgingly look at him, watching his face soften as you meet his eyes.
“I didn’t know. You have to believe me,” he begs, stepping a little closer.
You shake your head, not believing it for a second, “I don’t know, Jake.”
“Please, I swear,” he adds, his hand coming up to graze your arm. You pull away quickly in rejection, watching his hand fall back to his side.
“Can we talk later? Please, just give me ten minutes,” he asks.
You shake your head, “I think you’re going to be occupied later, Jake.”
You push past him and make your way back to your seat, refusing to cave to the voice in your head that is telling you to look over your shoulder. You hate this. You hate that you want to believe him, and you hate that after everything he told you last night, she showed up this morning.
You slide back into your seat with a huff, hearing Isla chatting with Mia next to her and rolling your eyes.
“You good, babe?” Ty asks, turning to look at you.
You give him a fake smile, “Oh, never better!”
You pull your book from your bag and open it with a sigh. A few minutes later you hear Jake returning to his seat and the grating sound of Isla’s voice as she speaks.
“What took you so long?”
—
JAKE POV
Your lips are pressed tightly together as you settle back into your seat, Isla’s words chipping away at you.
“What took me so long?” you repeat, clearly annoyed, “There was someone else in there Isla, I had to wait.”
“Why didn’t you just go to the first class bathroom?” she asks, cutting her eyes at you.
You just shake your head at her knowing you aren’t even going to answer. Sure, you could have gone to the first class bathroom, but you saw your chance and you knew you had to take it. You didn’t know if or when you’d get Y/N alone for two seconds without Isla around.
Those two seconds, however, proved to be useless. She refused to hear you out and after Isla’s little display in the hotel lobby earlier, you didn’t blame her. It was the perfect storm, really.
You’d talked last night. You told her everything. The truth. You felt content sliding into your bed last night, hopeful for what the next coming days would bring with Y/N. It was as you grabbed for your phone to check the playlist that you heard the knock on your door. You hoped it was her, desperate to be with you as much as you wanted to be with her, but when you opened the door it was the last person you expected to see.
It took all of two seconds for your heart to ice over again, just the sight of Isla, causing your body to fill with anxiety and dread. Why was she here? How did she get here?
Her voice was overly sweet as she pushed her way into your room, greeting you with that stupid nickname she tried to force on you. Zero explanation was offered as you let the door swing closed behind her. She made quick work occupying your space and throwing herself down onto your bed. Your eyes flashed over to your phone on the nightstand, hoping she would pay no mind to it as it sat open on your messages.
“What–what are you doing here Isla?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What do you mean?” she asks, sitting up on her elbows.
“What do I mea– Isla! We are on a break!” you answer, raising your voice just a touch. “You are not supposed to be here!”
She rolls her eyes, “Yeah, but did you really think I was going to miss our anniversary?”
“Anniversary of what? We are done Isla, I told you I am done.”
“You always say that,” she scoffs.
“Yeah, because it’s true! What aren’t you getting?” you growl, “Just how long are you planning on being here? I’m working Isla, this isn’t fucking playtime,” you snap. “We are leaving first thing tomorrow to catch a flight to Manchester”
“I don’t see what the big deal is Jakey, I’m just staying in your room. Mia and Lyla helped me figure out all the flights and everything. I have a ticket for tomorrow. I thought you would be happy to see me.”
You rub your hand over your face, doing your very best not to explode, “Isla, no. No. This is not okay. You know this is not okay.”
“You’re overreacting, everything is fine. I’m only gonna be here for like a week. Think about all the trouble we can get into for a week.” she grins, trying her best to tempt you.
“No. No, I’m not thinking anything like that. I’m thinking that I was going to bed and you just woke me up. I’m thinking that you shouldn’t be here, and you know it.” you seethe.
And she did know it. She knew it as you slid back into the bed without another word. She knew it when she woke the next morning to your alarm blaring, and she knew it when you refused to look at her as you packed your suitcase and headed downstairs. Her disgusting display of possessive jealousy in the lobby left you dumbfounded. All you could do was stare at Y/N, praying her mind wasn’t jumping to the worst, though you could tell by the look on her face that it already had. You knew that every single thing you told her last night, every painful truth, was now all a lie in her mind.
So now, as you sit here in the seat behind her on this airplane, with your borderline psychotic ex-girlfriend nit picking your every move, you wonder how you will fix this. Or if there even is a way to fix it, now.
The flight landed shortly after your mental spiral, and thankfully you were being bussed straight to the venue for a soundcheck. The girls and staff were ushered to the hotel, dropping your belongings off before heading to the venue. You were happy to have a few minutes alone without Isla. You wished you could just send her home. Maybe you would. But could you?
The four of you were in the van on the way to the venue, going over the setlist and a few notes from the night prior, laughing and joking as the city passed through the van windows. That’s when it hit you.
You snapped your head to Sam and Daniel, cutting your eyes at them in realization. “You know, your fucking girlfriends did this.”
“Huh?” Danny answers, focusing on you. “Mia?”
“Yeah, fucking Mia and Lyla. They conspired to fly Isla out here for an entire fucking week. Got her tickets and shit. Unbelievable.”
“You didn’t know?” Sam asks, tilting his head to the side.
“Obviously not, Samuel.” you snap. “I don’t fucking want her here. I don’t want her at all! She just does not seem to get that. She is ruining everything.”
The van goes silent, everyone ducking their heads in an effort not to look at you, an awkwardness filling the air in the van as you pull up at the back entrance of the venue. As the four of you make your way inside, you know it is only a matter of time before you see Y/N, rushing through the halls with bags of food and drinks. You want to tell her everything, if you could just explain you think she would understand. But you know how it looks from the outside and you probably wouldn’t want to hear you out either.
You would talk to her tonight. You had to.
—
HER POV
Paul
9:06AM: Rider for the day is in your email! Should be an easy store trip! Thanks
You shove your phone back in your pocket as you step out of the security meeting, wondering why Paul couldn’t have just said that face to face five minutes ago. Alas, you know he has three hundred things on his mind, so him thinking of you at all is a feat. You open your email and find today’s rider, reading off the same old same old items as your eyes scan down the page. Flashbacks of yesterday morning keep littering your brain, but you decide to force them back, burying yourself in your work like you always do.
Isla’s face when she realized who you were… Jake’s expression as he watched the interaction… the feeling of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as everyone else stood so still you’d think you were statues in a museum. It all felt horrible. It all felt so embarrassing. But, none of it is your fault. You didn’t see this coming.
Though you’d tried to downplay all of the emotion boiling up inside of you for the past couple of days, you set it aside, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before it all comes boiling up, waiting to spit and spatter its way out of you in what would most likely be a very ugly scene.
You didn’t need to order an Uber for the ride home from the store; the proximity was actually fairly close to the venue, and you were able to sneak around the corner and to the market without the need for security. As you push your cart-wagon back down the sidewalk and begin separating the food items into the outside storage container, your mind drifts to the one thing that feels like reprieve right now– Murph. You think about him catching you looking at him on the plane this morning, and how warm your entire body felt as you watched him wink at you. And the fact that tomorrow you’ll be spending the entire evening with him, watching one of your most favorite bands perform by his side.
Does it feel wrong to think of things this way? Using Murph as an excuse to not think of Jake and Isla? Sure, maybe a little. But you never devoted yourself to Jake. And he never set things in stone with you. And for him to explain things to your face so honestly for it all to blow up in your face… ugh. And you really believed him, too. Now the taste in your mouth is dirty and sour, and everything feels so disgustingly wrong. Vengeful. Deceitful as you “use” one man to take your mind off another. But also, who the hell cares? You have nothing to lose, and apparently fucking everything to gain. So hanging out with someone who values your company and actually wants to start things off honestly… why not? Murph makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. He makes you feel safe. And being around him feels like a breath of fresh morning air instead of one that hardly fills your lungs.
The rest of the day flies by as you are dying to get a free second to call Ruth, knowing that her matter-of-fact outlook on life will help you to feel less shitty about your decisions. You’d managed to fly under the radar most of the day, only saying necessary words to your co-workers, and having very little run-ins with any of the guys. Thankfully Paul had sent you on a few more errands throughout the afternoon, of which you accepted gracefully if they let your mind think about anything else other than the auburn-haired tramp holding Jake’s hand.
The craft table is set and ready for grazing, and the fridge and coolers are stocked to the brim with everything the band and crew could need, and you finally get a second to breathe as you listen to the crowd outside cheer for the second opener. Just as you’re stuffing a container of Oreos into a mesh sack, you feel the presence of someone joining you in the small room.
“Hey there mama.”
You perk up, the familiar voice startling you. “Oh, hey Josh. What’s up?” you ask blankly, upset that the time had come that you could no longer avoid any of them.
“Not much, they’re all getting in their zones in there, not much I can do besides sip on this…” he holds up his paper cup of steaming hot tea, giving you a cordial smile as you pretend to keep your hands busy. “You uh, you okay?” he asks, and you wish he would just… go away.
You huff an exhale, throwing one hand on your hip and the other up to scratch the back of your head. “Uh, no. Not really,” you laugh awkwardly. “But, here we are…”
“Listen Y/N,” he goes on, “I’m really really sorr–”
“Josh, don’t. Please just, don’t. I’m already mortified beyond belief, the last thing I need right now is pity, ok?” Your tone is clipped, but it has a right to be.
He nods as he swallows, tapping his pointer finger against his cup. “I get it. Just uh, just want you to know I’m on your team on this one, I really, we really had no idea they were scheming this up,” he explains, his sincerity heavy. “You know how we all feel about Isla.”
You nod in return, biting your jaw sideways as you feel so displaced in the conversation right now. “Honestly Josh, I feel very much like this is none of my business, anymore, so… if you don’t mind…” you quickly check your watch as you blindly make up some excuse to get him out the door.
“It is your business, Y/N. He’s just… Please, just don’t throw him away,” Josh begs, and you hear a commotion on your radio.
“That’s not my decision to make, Josh,” you say as you both hear the radio chime with a ten minute warning. Josh hisses through his teeth as he takes one more long sip of his tea, and tosses the cup into the trash.
“See you out there, huh?” he says as he opens the heavy door to the hallway.
“I’ll have you a fresh tea in a few,” you assure him, casting him an awkward smile.
As the sound of the crowd roars outside, you know that it is time to get the guys their respective stage drinks prepared, and to go and meet them at the stairs. You get everything ready, leaving Jake’s drink the last piece to your puzzle. You’d completely ignored getting him a drink at all at the last show, one last slap in the face as you made your stance. But tonight, you decide to resume your duties, knowing that if you’re going to do anything right at all, it's going to be your job.
You slide over to the corner of the green room, squatting down in the floor to fish for the bag you know he’s hidden. Your hands grip on the black canvas material as you drag it out, a strange feeling of weird nostalgia bubbling up in your stomach. You pull up the heavy bag to rest on the arm of the couch before unzipping it slowly, seeing all his normal items inside. All the items that just a few short days ago, you cherished seeing. The little parts of him that felt so real.
Your hand floats past his change of clothes, his sunglasses, his book, straight to the bottom to grasp onto the neck of the bottle of wine you knew you would find. Just as you bring it out of the bag, the green room door flies open, revealing the overwhelmingly loud aura of Isla.
Her eyes cut directly your way, catching you in the last act you’d want anyone to see today. The eye contact is quick as you hear her scoff at seeing you.
“Uh excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks, her tone biting. She makes quick haste of walking directly over to you, ripping the bag from your hands as the bottom of the wine bottle catches on the zipper, knocking it free from your hand with force. The bottle hits the tile floor, breaking the glass and shattering it into a hundred pieces as the wine splashes all over your feet and the couch.
You gasp hard, catching the bag in mid-air before it hits the floor and soaks everything inside it. “Oh my god, look what the fuck you did!” Isla shouts, her hands covering her mouth. “Why are you rustling around in my boyfriend’s bag?! That’s not yours!” she shouts.
Oh here we fucking go.
You roll your eyes, keeping surprisingly calm as you place his bag back down on the couch. “Just doing my job, Isla. I get them their stage drinks before every show. He gave me permission to get his wine from his bag. Now look what you’ve done,” you spit, moving over to get a broom and paper towels. The rage is beginning to boil up in your belly as you drag the trash can over to clean up the mess, Isla making no moves whatsoever to try and help.
Isla crosses her arms as she zips Jake’s bag back up, mumbling under her breath. The only words you catch are “inappropriate’ and ‘ridiculous’. You roll your eyes again as you finish cleaning up the tiny shards of glass, feeling upset that you wasted an entire bottle of what looked to be an expensive vintage.
As you dry up the remaining liquid from the floor, you realize that Isla hasn’t left, she’s just standing there, watching you clean. ‘Why isn’t she fucking leaving?’ you ask yourself, feeling overwhelmingly out of place. You shake the feeling, deciding to go ahead and finish making the drinks, knowing the time for them to go on stage is drawing closer and closer. You decide to make Jake the same thing you make Danny, realizing that it will have to do. Isla watches you wordlessly as you pop open the drink mixers, perfectly pouring them into his metal chalice cup.
“Can I help you with something?” you burst, feeling so awkward that you could actually scream.
She purses her lips as she picks up a cookie from the table, taking a tiny bite to keep her mouth from saying what she really wants to say. You hear the overture music begin to play in the distance, and you know you have to hurry. You stick your finger into Jake’s icy drink, swirling it around a few times before looking at Isla one last time, popping your finger into your mouth and sucking off the tequila with a smile. You pick up all four drinks and head for the door, letting it slam hard behind you.
You can feel Isla’s presence on your heels as you hurriedly pace down the dark hallway, passing rushing crew members and staff as you hold the drinks steadily in your hands, careful not to spill a drop. You make it just in time as you hand off the Topo Chico, the tea, and the tequila cocktail, saving Jake’s chalice for dead last. Just as his tech helps him place his strap over his head, the room suddenly erupts with loud cheers, the lights beginning to flash wildly. Jake takes the drink from you, glancing into it and quickly realizing it isn’t his wine of the day. He gulps as he makes eye contact with you, looking as though he wants to say a million things, but as his lips part to speak, nothing comes out. Instead, you decide to lean into him, yelling in his ear above the loud noise.
“Hope this drink doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth. I didn’t have a fucking choice,” you bark, stepping back to glare at him. Again, he’s speechless, but the look on his face is questioning. As you move your eyes to look at the woman standing beside you, she pushes you to the side, forcing you to step sideways as she grabs Jake’s face in both of her hands, his hands both too full to push her away. She catches him off guard, planting a quick and forceful kiss to his lips right there in front of you. You scoff as he backs away, using his body weight to separate himself.
He doesn’t even say anything as he finishes ascending the stairs, placing his drink down as he joins his brothers in their places behind the curtain. What a fucking bitch, you think as you watch her try and block your view of them, unsuccessfully. You watch as he cuts his eyes at her, shaking his head in the most unapproving way. His eyes are slit and his jaw is clenched, his knuckles white as he grips the neck of his guitar. Fuck, he is mad.
With only a few seconds to spare, you watch as Jake rushes back over to his amp, grabbing up his drink and tilting it back, chugging what had to be half of it before cutting his eyes at her again, rushing back over to his place next to Danny.
Isla crosses her arms as she backs up to stand beside you, a devilish smirk crossing her lips as she never lets her eyes leave him. “What did you make him, anyway?” she asks.
You bite your lips in before you give her a one word answer, “Tequila.”
“Ahaaa,” Isla laughs as she tilts her head back. “I should thank you, then. That means I am definitely in for it tonight, if you know what I mean.” She smiles hard as the curtain drops to the stage floor, but your heart falls ten times harder. If all that Jake and his brothers said is true, then who the fuck does this bitch think she is?
You’re about to let it all fly before you look her way, realizing that she’s already making her way toward Mia and Lyla in the corner, snickering when the three of them finally join up. Their eyes drift quickly to each other and to you, and you feel like you’re in middle school again. Three grown women whispering into each other’s ears as if you’re being bullied on the playground at recess, making themselves look like absolute fools. How could Danny and Sam not realize…?
Whatever. It’s none of your business anymore, right? You’ve got a job to do, and a really hot date to dream about.
You dash back to the green room to replenish anything that needs it, and you find that you’re interrupting someone.
“Oh fuck, Ty, you scared me,” you laugh, clutching your chest as you watch him chew furiously. “What are you doing?”
“Shit,” he laughs through a full mouth. “Sorry, I’m so motherfucking hungry right now… Please don’t tell anyone it was me tearing up this charcuterie board.”
You let out a full belly laugh, Ty’s presence instantly calming you.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks as he swallows. “Why does it smell like straight Chardonnay in here?” Ty doesn’t even let you answer as he grabs a whole box of crackers and pulls your hand to follow him to the couch, but not before locking the door. “There, now we can talk just us again. You look flushed, babe, what’s up?”
You grunt as you pull a few crackers from the box, stuffing them in your mouth. “Ugh. Isla caught me getting Jake’s wine from his bag, she got pissed I guess and she made me drop the bottle on the floor, it shattered,” you say through a full mouth. “So I made him a really fucking strong tequila drink, instead.”
Ty throws his head back and laughs. “Good! That bitch deserves to drink tequila tonight.”
You swallow, giving Ty a sincere look. “Does he, though? I mean, he did tell me the truth… week too fucking late, but…”
“Yeah I mean, I guess, but he could have banished her and sent her on her merry way back to Nash,” Ty says.
“But he didn’t…” you say softly.
“But he didn’t.”
“Is his heart too big?” you ask, truly wondering.
Ty shrugs, clearing crackers from his teeth. “I dunno, maybe. No matter what he does, he’s the asshole.” You nod, feeling very conflicted in the matter. “Ugh,” Ty complains, “I tried to fix this and it just got fucking worse..” he smacks himself on the face.
“Shh, Ty, it’s okay,” you say, pulling his head back up. “I–I don’t really care, anymore. Besides, I’m going to see the Keys with Murph tomorrow.”
He perks right up. “MURPH?! Oh my god, how is that going?”
“It’s good, it’s fine… nothing serious, but–”
“But you wanna sleep with him, right? He’s hot, I wouldn’t blame you. Oh my god, have you already?! Y/N–”
“Ty! Ty! Jesus, no, I haven’t, calm down…” you laugh, grabbing his shoulders as it hits you why you love Ty so much. He reminds you so much of Ruth that it hurts.
He takes your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “Listen babe, I’m Team You, and I’m really excited for you… but…”
“That’s exactly what Josh said,” you laugh.
He scoffs. “I just want a cool sister in law, that’s all okay?”
“Sister in law?! Are you insane Ty?” you crow, pushing his shoulder as you both fall into laughter.
It calms down for a second while you both listen to the music bellowing through the walls. “So you really like Murph?” he asks, snarling his nose.
You pause for a second, contemplating an answer that won’t embarrass you too much. “I do… if not for anything ya know, like that, just as someone I can hang out with. He’s nice to me, understands me. He bought me Black Keys tickets, Ty! Like how thoughtful is that? Finally some time just me and him, no chance of running into anyone or having to talk to Jake at all…”
All the happiness falls from Ty’s face. “Black Keys tickets? For like, tomorrow?”
“Yeah, why? He’s taking me on a date…”
“Babes, we’re all going to that show tomorrow,” he says, stretching his lips over his teeth.
Oh fuck.
“Like, everybody?” you ask, hopeful that he will say just him and Josh.
“Yeah. Like, everybody.”
—
“If you want to dump that ice outside, I will throw these last few drinks into the cooler,” Paul says, motioning towards the table.
“Yeah, sure,” you answer, knowing it would be minutes until the guys came bounding into the greenroom for their post show drink. You grab the bucket and walk through the bustling hallways, tossing the ice into the bathroom sink to melt. As you make your way back to the green room you find that it is now occupied with the four sweaty men.
Your eyes immediately catch Jake’s who looks like he is on the tail end of a nasty little spat with Isla. Honestly, you would rather see that than them loving on each other. At least the palpable hostility in the room corroborates the things he told you last night. You wanted to believe him. You really did, but seeing Isla holding his hand this morning really had you second guessing everything.
“That everything?” Paul asks, snapping your attention away.
“Oh, um yes. I think so. Should be all set for tomorrow,” you answer with a nod.
“Good work, Y/N. Enjoy your evening,” he says, patting your shoulder and exiting the room.
You lean awkwardly on the table as you try to keep to yourself. Josh speaks up, grabbing everyone's attention.
“What are we thinking? We want to go out tonight?” he asks, looking at each of you. No one jumps at the idea, still very unsure of the dynamic of the group now that Isla had joined.
“No, Danny and I are gonna go back to the room,” she grins, turning to look at Isla. You immediately realize that the two of them have again conspired to run the show tonight.
“I could use a drink,” Jake says.
“Noooo, baby, I’m tired, let’s go back to the room,” Isla interjects, pulling on his arm. Its very obvious to you that she is going to do everything in her power to get him alone and all to herself.
“I’m in as long as they have Tequila,” Jake adds, clearly ignoring her pleads.
“Jake no, lets just stay in. I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she whines.
“Yeah, because I didn’t invite you here, Isla! Do you need me to lay out the definition of a break again?” he says, slinging her arm off of his with a mumbled curse.
Isla storms out of the room, brushing past you in a huff. You raise your eyebrows as you look at Ty, who is doing his best to stifle down a laugh.
With everyone's eyes on Jake he shakes his head and rushes out the door after her. Josh is not too far behind him, ready to play referee.
“Well, that’s my cue to grab the van!” Sam shouts, trying to break the awkward tension. You bite your lips together, trying not to laugh at how awkward everything is. Sam and Lyla quickly exit the green room with Mia and Danny at their side. Just you and Ty remain in the room, both of you busting out in laughter as the door slams shut.
“Holy shit,” he laughs, gasping for air. “That was good.”
“This is all so awkward, Ty. I can’t do this,” you groan.
“No, it’s just getting good,” he says, standing up to walk over to you. “You got your stuff? You ready to go?”
You look around the room, spotting Jake’s backpack still laying on the floor and you wonder if you should grab it. Seconds later, Isla is rushing through the door, snatching her purse from the couch and grabbing Jake’s bag from the floor.
She tosses the black backpack over her shoulder, cutting her eyes at you and Ty, “Oh, and just by the way, I would replace that bottle of wine if I were you. He’s going to be mad when he finds out you broke it.”
You recoil at her audacity, turning to look at Ty who is just as shocked as you are. She storms out the door before you can respond and you shake your head, fully understanding why Jake is desperate to be done with her in the first place.
—
The ride back to the hotel was pin drop silent. No one daring to utter a single syllable. Jake refused to sit by Isla, instead opting to sit with Ty and Josh, leaving you with Daniel and Mia. You all file out of the van in a hurry, making your way to the elevators and to your respective rooms without another word. You watched as Jake stepped out of the elevator with Isla, turning over his shoulder to meet your eyes for a matter of a second before the doors closed again.
Your blood was boiling after your encounter with Isla, the rage rippling through your body like a freight train. You knew there was only one way to get it out, so as you stepped into your room you stripped out of your work clothes and threw on some workout clothes, quickly making your way back downstairs to the hotel gym.
A run would help. A run always helps.
As you step inside you find it empty, but that isn’t a huge shock since it is nearly midnight. You turn the lights on and make your way to the treadmill, putting in your airpods and turning on a metal playlist. Your legs start to move, starting a slow jog. You work your way up to a sprint, letting the music in your ears push you to run faster.
You run your aggression out, every step causing you to feel lighter and lighter. Just as you hit the down arrow to slow down the track you hear a ding in your ear as Siri alerts you of a new text from Ruth.
Ruth
12:14AM: Hello? Updates? I can’t sleep
You slow to a walk, deciding there is really no better time to update her on the situation. You decide to send her voice memos instead of calling her, needing to get your rambling out uninterrupted.
Your heart is pounding with adrenaline as you recount every detail of the last twenty four hours in what has to be ten voice memos. You can feel the sweat dripping down the side of your neck as your body tries to cool itself down.
You hit the record button again, giving one last quip before leaving her to listen, “And one more thing. If that nasty little stuck up bitch says one more thing to me about her boyfriend I think I might kill them both. She is the reason the wine bottle shattered in the first place. I was just doing my damn job. Of course he marched right upstairs with her tonight, didn’t even try to say anything to me the entire night. So much for ‘give me ten minutes’ or whatever the hell he said. Okay, end rant,” you say, hitting the button and watching it deliver.
You huff as you slow the treadmill to a stop, stepping off and grabbing a towel to wipe your face. As you turn around you pull your Airpods out, and see Jake, leaning against the door with a solemn look on his face.
“Holy fuck, Jake!” you say, grabbing at your chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He holds his hands up, “Sorry, I just got in here. Had the same idea as you, I suppose.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” you seethe, snapping your Airpods into the case. You grab for your bag, trying to make it out of the gym as quickly as possible but of course, he stops you.
“Y/N, please,” he begs, lifting a hand towards you.
“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with your girlfriend?” you bark.
He shakes his head gently, “No, I told her I needed a minute and I wanted to be alone. And stop with the girlfriend thing, I told you she isn’t.”
You recoil back, “Really? Could have fooled me.”
“I heard what you said to Ruth.”
“You what!?” you shout, “You were listening to me?!”
“I mean, the last part, yeah. I didn’t hear everything, but you are right. You should be mad at me. I deserve it,” he says, nodding his head.
Your blood is boiling beneath your skin, “That was private, Jake. You should have stepped out. I thought I was alone.”
“I know, I just– I’m sorry. I just needed to hear you say it. Now I have,” he pauses. “I’d really like it if you’d let me explain everything. I can explain all of it, I swear.
“It’s self explanatory, Jake. You lied to me. You said all that shit only for her to turn up this morning.”
“But I didn’t lie. Everything was true, Y/N. It was Mia an-and Lyla, they did this. Planned all of it. I had no idea. She just showed up at my door last night after we talked. I had no clue, you have to believe me.”
You do believe him. You don’t want to, but you do. You can see it written all over his face.
“I– I can’t do this Jake. It’s late, I’m exhausted. This is just…I can’t do the lies and the games. I feel like shit for causing these issues between you two. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, that’s never what I wanted. That’s not who I am.”
“You didn’t homewreck anything, Y/N! It was already wrecked before I ever even met you! You were rebuilding me! I was finally happy for the first time in–fuck. I wish I could show you, even barely explain what you have done for me, but I can’t because everything is just so fucked up now. Please, just know, I don’t want her. Haven’t for a long time,” he shouts.
“So what then, Jake? What do you want?”
“You know the answer to that. You have to know. I know you know,” he says, his voice softening. The look in his eyes is pleading with you even harder than his words are, and you can feel the sincerity coming off of him in waves.
Your heart aches at his words. You can feel that he is being genuine but there is still that shred of doubt clouding your mind. Part of you wants to stay, hear him out, let him explain everything. But the other part of you knows there is no use when at the end of the night he will be in bed with her.
“I’m sorry, Jake, I can’t…”
You brush past him and push through the door, hearing the heavy wood slam behind you.
—
JAKE POV
Fuck this. Fuck this fuck this fuck this.
What in the hell are you gonna do now?
There’s no right answer. No matter what decision you make, it’s going to be the wrong one. And it’s going to hurt someone else, whether you want it to or not.
You pull your hair back and throw it into a bun and grab a towel from the shelf in the corner, cupping it around your neck. You pull your tangled earphones from your pocket, getting aggravated as you try to pull them apart. You know that if Y/N was still around, she’d have them untangled and wrapped neatly for you, waiting in your bag for the next time you want to use them.
Fuck, you miss her. Her yelling in your face just now was the most you’ve spoken in days, and even though she was mad and disappointed and calling you every name in the book, somewhere deep, deep down, it felt good to be in her presence again. God, you need to get your shit together.
You step onto the treadmill as you feel the belt pick up speed beneath you, your feet keeping up with the traction of the increasing momentum. Your finger keeps hitting the button, keeps letting it climb and climb until it’s almost maxed out. You need to sprint so fast that your legs give out… you need to hear your heart beating in your ears for another reason other than getting too exhausted on stage. Physical exertion has always been one of your secret kryptonites, pushing your body to the point of no return to get your anger out. And most of the time, it truly worked.
Anything to keep you from going back to the room and screaming at Isla.
Once you feel like your body simply couldn’t handle another step, you slow the treadmill, cooling down with a brisk walk as you run the towel over your face. Have you seriously fucked everything up? Is anything ever going to get better? Or are you going to be stuck with Isla for the rest of your life?
After a few centering breaths and some self-slaps in the face, you get yourself together and make your way back up to your hotel room, wanting nothing more than to chug a bottle of water, and follow it up with another strong tequila. A hard buzz to get you through the night, then claim exhaustion to avoid talking to Isla any more than necessary.
As the elevator ascends and your body falls into that tranquil state of peace you get after a good workout, you realize that you’re going to have to share a bed with her. A queen sized bed. Fuck. Me.
Your limp legs carry you to your room and you inhale a sharp breath as you unlock the door, letting yourself into the room.
“Heyyyy baby…” Isla wails from the bed, stark naked with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “What took you so long?”
You drop your bag to the floor as the image before you stops you in your tracks. “I was working out, Isla,” you answer flatly.
“C’mon, come get in bed…” she slurs, and you can tell she’s already been working on the champagne. “Let’s celebrate our anniversary like we used to.”
You couldn’t feel more disconnected from her, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible, right now. You even contemplate pulling out the couch bed.
“Mmm, no. I’m getting in the shower, then I’m going to bed. I’m really tired,” you say, grabbing clothes from your bag, and an airplane bottle from the mini bar.
You hear her groan from behind you as her lips pop off the bottle of champagne. “Want me to join you?” she asks, her voice rising a few octaves.
“NO! No, I won’t be long, just… stay there.” You pull the bathroom door closed and quietly lock the latch, knowing that she is the type to sneak in even after you’d told her not to. Just months ago, you’d have given anything for her to join you in the shower. Hell, join you on tour. But now, the thought of her impeding in your space like this nearly makes you sick.
“Ugh, okay. I’ll be here waiting,” you hear her call through the door.
You tip the tequila back in one quick swallow and shower quickly, rinsing off the sweat of the day and the stench of your guilt, feeling more shitty than you’ve felt in a really, really long time. You want to talk to Josh. You need to hear his level-headed opinion on this matter, and honestly, you need Ty’s, too. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to them. Hopefully.
You step out of the shower and dry off, thanking yourself for remembering to grab a t-shirt and shorts to avoid having to walk in front of Isla half-clothed.
You flick the bathroom light off and find Isla in the same position she was in, watching some old 80’s crime rerun on TV. You plug your phone in and slide into the bed beside her, being sure to turn your back to her as you fluff the pillow beneath your head. Surprisingly, you aren’t really that tired, but you’ll be damned if you are going to stay awake a minute longer than you need to to endure this night.
You pretend to start to fall asleep, letting your body succumb to the comfort of the bed and puffy sheets. Your limbs relax as the exhaustion actually does set in, letting you know that maybe you aren’t as far from sleep as you think you are. Your eyes begin to play the beginning images of a dream, your body jerking a little as it relaxes. Suddenly, just as you’re about to drift off peacefully, you feel a hand run across your back, up underneath your shirt.
Ugh, Isla, please stop…
Her hand drifts up to your shoulder, squeezing the muscle and gritting the pad of her thumb up underneath your shoulder blade, massaging your tight back muscles. You’re letting yourself enjoy the sensation, picturing Y/N’s hands all over you just like they used to be, soft but strong in all the right places. It feels good, it feels really good. You have only had the hands of your hired massage therapists on your back for the past few days, so to feel the light touch of someone else’s hand is a welcome change.
“Shit baby, you’re tense…” Isla mumbles, making you wake up from your half-asleep state, sending all your dreams of Y/N straight down the drain.
“Isla, please…” you warn with a stern voice.
“Please what, baby? I miss you…” she sings, bringing her body to press up against your back. “Came all the way here to see you, visit you on our anniversary…”
Though your eyes are closed, you roll them, taking in a deep and cleansing breath as you prepare yourself to argue, yet again.
“Isla, today is just another day on my calendar. Can you please drop the anniversary shit? Do you not understand that I can’t do this with you anymore? I don’t want this–”
“So what, you gonna kick me out?” she slurs, and you can hear the drunkenness in her voice now. “Make me get another room? Or you gonna come take care of me the way I know you want to…”
For a split second, you think about it. You really think about it. Through the exhaustion in your bones and the tiredness of your muscles, your male brain contemplates it for a split second. Your dick throbs at the thought of it, no emotion involved, just straight meaningless sex. You could really fucking use it.
“I know you miss me Jake, I can feel it. See it when you look at me. I know you think about fucking me just as often as I think about it with you… I’m not naive.”
Giving in to her and giving her what she wants is an option that will get her to shut up, but it will also dig the hole you’re already in deeper than you can dig yourself out of, and that’s not a headache that you need right now.
No matter how good she looks under the covers…
No matter how good her hands felt on your skin, or how badly you could really use a good romp, right now.
Ugh, should you just get it over with? It would probably only take a second, at this point…
“No, please, just go the fuck to sleep,” you stay strong.
You pull your body away from her a bit, scooting further away and out of her reach. You hear her scoff as she rolls to her back, pulling the covers up over her chest. “Ya know, you aren’t the same person anymore, Jake. Remember when I told you you’d fucking changed? Well it’s true. It’s never been more true,” she barks. “You used to have the biggest heart, used to want me more than anything, love me more than anything. Now you’re just a grouchy son of a bitch. I can’t believe anyone can even stand to be around you anymore.”
Her words don’t even hurt you, anymore. They used to cut you like a knife. And though they make you feel like shit, you know they aren’t true. You might be a grouchy son of a bitch, but you know that your brothers and your friends still love you. She’s using anything she can to get under your skin, right now.
She’s the one who fucking changed.
“Ok Isla, thanks. Now let me go to sleep,” you beg, letting her words roll right off of your thickened skin.
Things fall quiet again but for just a second as Isla turns the volume up on the TV just a few notches, just enough to piss you off.
“Can you turn that back down, please?” you bellow, to which she responds with silence. The TV stays at an unreasonable volume as you try to tune it out, but you fall short. Your gut is boiling up with rage at her inconsideration.
“Isla! Hello? I’m trying to sleep! Do I need to go stay in Josh’s room or–”
“Damn Jake, chill, it isn’t even that loud…” she complains as she grabs the remote, switching the TV off completely. For some reason, that just pisses you off even more.
“Isla, listen to me. Why did you come here?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose as you sit up in bed.
“...Because, we’ve always spent this week together, it’s special, I thought you’d be excited to see me after we’ve been on this break…” she squeaks.
“Do you not remember everything I said before I left? Seriously? That I didn’t want any contact from you, I needed to sort shit out, I needed you to find somewhere else to go… why is none of it clicking with you? I’m so confused,” you spurt, the words tripping over themselves.
“I don’t understand why you aren’t respecting my wishes. I don’t understand why you showed up here unannounced,” you go on. “I don’t understand how I could put things more clearly, that I don’t want this anymore. I’m tired of having this same fucking conversation over and over and it never means anything to you.” You speak like a teacher to his young students, clearly and slowly, now, so that it might help her to understand. But it won’t. She never gets it.
The room is dark and bleak, only the pale gleam of the street lights poking through the windows and the heat blowing through the vent in the corner fill the empty space between you. “All I want is space, and you can’t even give me that. No matter how far away I run.” The words hurt to choke out as you begin to feel a little sorry for yourself. This shit with her is beginning to wear you down, tearing away at your self-worth even though you act like it isn’t.
“I thought… I thought you might have just wanted a couple of weeks to think about things, time to miss me, ya know?” she says, obviously completely forgetting about the countless arguments you’d had on the phone since tour began. She’s obviously gaslighting you yet again.
“Mia and Lyla said you seemed distracted lately, just unhappy and not yourself,” she says.
“See, that’s not true, Isla. If anything, I’ve been happier. More free to do whatever I please,” and you know that is a stone cold fact.
“It just… ugh it feels so fucking wrong and stupid to be home, in your home, cleaning and taking care of things and making sure the bills are paid and that things are working while you’re gone… until I found somewhere else to go, Jake. I don’t have anywhere to go!” she yells, sitting up to face you. “I’ve relied on you for years, and you expect me to just pick up and find somewhere in a week? Be for fucking real. You didn’t even give me time to look for somewhere before you decided to kick me out!”
“That’s not fucking true, Isla! I discussed this with you countless fucking times before I left! But it’s like it went in one ear, and straight out the other! I know what you’re doing, you’re using me. I understand. I get it, I’m doing well for myself and you don’t want to lose that. That’s all this is. That’s all you’ve come to care about! You don’t care about me anymore! Just your fucking status,” your chest is heaving, your heart beating from it as you let it all out again, the same goddamed thing you always say, hoping, praying, that one day it will catch on in her mind.
“I just wanted to be close to you again,” she pouts, completely ignoring the actual meat of the details of what you’re actually concerned with, dancing around the actual issues yet again. “Plus they said you’d gotten really close with that other girl and I–”
“Oh! Ohhhh, so that’s what this is about? What else did they say, huh?”
Isla pulls the sheets up over her lap as she reclines back onto the bed. “Ugh, nothing,” she tries to blow it off, sending a whole new wave of rage straight through you.
“No, tell me. I want to know what everyone is saying about MY life behind my back when I told you I wanted privacy.” Your fist pounds against your chest. “Please, enlighten me,” you spit, the venom in your voice like gasoline catching fire. This could be it, this could be when you let your secret be known, and fuck, could it backfire. But you’re so blinded with fury that you don’t really even fucking care at this point.
“They told me they think you’re sleeping with her, okay?” she yells, and you know things are about to go south, and quickly.
“Hah,” you breathe. “So that’s the whole reason you came over here, to check up on me after I told you I don’t want to even be with you anymore. That’s fucking disgusting Isla,” you growl, your teeth gritting against each other. “We’re grown fucking adults.”
“So are you?” she challenges, her tone reminding you of a girlfriend you would have had in the ninth grade.
“What?”
“Are you sleeping with her?!” her voice cracks as she yells at you.
You’re so horribly offended you can hardly see straight, and all your extremities feel numb. “That’s none of your business.”
“Yes it fucking is, Jake! I live in your home!” she retorts, her hands flying in the air, now. The voice of your twin reverberates in the back of your mind, and though you’ll never admit it to him, he was absolutely and completely right. It’s all blowing up in your face.
You’re so fucking sick of this. You’re so fucking tired of it all. Your life doesn’t feel like it’s your own anymore, and when you do return home, it will most definitely feel like anything but. It’s time you stand your ground.
“You know what Isla? Yes, yes we were. You happy?” you say, the words flowing a little more freely than you’d thought they would. But, they also make the hole in your heart a little bigger, seeing as how now, you might truly never get Y/N back. Your voice falls a little with your next admission. “She made me fucking happy.”
Isla inhales through her nose, the realization hitting her as she tries to catch her breath. She doesn’t say anything for a good few seconds as you let her process, and you hear a few tiny sobs leave her chest. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, Jacob…” she breathes, her words no more than a whisper. “So you…you cheated on me…”
What did she fucking expect, really?
You grit your jaw and stiffen your muscles as you hold back. “How is it cheating when I told you I didn’t want to be with you anymore, for months, begged you to leave, told you I was finished. Beyond finished. How is that cheating?”
Convincing yourself of that has been the hardest part. There is no rule book for this shit. The whole situation is so sticky. So messy, tossed around and disorganized like you’ve never seen before. Nothing is right, nothing is wrong. Your morals are out the window, your decision-making skills are shot. You’re exhausted. You’re mad. You’re heartbroken.
But she doesn’t answer your question.
No more conversation is held between the two of you for the rest of the night, and you lie back on your pillow and listen to the sounds of her crying, her chest catching with violent sobs that she tries to hide from you. You can’t see her, but you know what her face must look like. Red and splotched with heavy wet tears, her cheeks flushed and pink as she realizes how real her suspicions were. You can’t stand to hear her crying, it was always your biggest weakness when it came to her, aside from her ability to lure you back into bed, of course.
You feel sorry for her. You can’t help it. The old her is buried down underneath there, somewhere, deep underneath this new persona, underneath the brand new person that you hardly even know anymore. She’s got to still be there, the girl you fell in love with. The honest and sincere and forgiving one. She’s still got to be somewhere in there, right?
Old habits die hard, especially for a person you once held so close to your heart. You hate being the reason she can hardly catch her breath right now. You hate being under the covers with her in the same bed in a foreign country, with nothing but a pillow separating the two of you as her cries fill the quiet of the room. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s the worst thing you could probably do, but your human emotion overtakes your decision making skills, and you place a hand on her arm, feeling her goosebump-covered skin under your touch.
“‘M sorry, Isla. I really am,” you whisper, squeezing your hand on her just a little. “Can you please stop crying?”
“My whole life is fucking falling apart, Jake. No, I don’t think I will stop crying,” she says, completely unaware that she is half the reason your lives together started to fall apart in the first place. You know she has got some serious over committal issues, that much is true. But it doesn’t stop the fact that the other half of that life-ruining moment is happening by your hand. The last thing you want is to be the reason someone is unhappy at all.
Reality sets in as you release your hold on her cold arm, rolling to your back to stare at the popcorned ceiling. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the sound of her cries, reminding yourself over and over that honesty is the best policy, and you need to be the one who takes care of yourself.
Instead, you think about tomorrow. You’re going to try and make the day tolerable, no matter what it takes. You’re going to see the Black Keys with your brothers, and you’re going to enjoy yourself.
Maybe Mia and Lyla will take care of their grieving best friend, keeping her far, far away from you. Maybe Josh will notice and intervene. Maybe.
7:00 is going to come early, and you roll to make sure your alarm is set to wake you, knowing that the bus ride to Glasgow is going to be anything but enjoyable.
Sleep will be anything but peaceful tonight.
—
HER POV
Your alarm wakes you far too early, your muscles sore and tired from the overexertion of running last night. You feel refreshed, knowing that you only have to get on the bus this morning then you will be on your way to the concert with Murph. You still hadn’t decided on what to wear, but you knew it had to be good. Like really good.
You roll over to grab your phone, seeing that Murph had already texted you this morning but also seeing that sometime in the early morning hours Jake added a song to the playlist. Your mind struggles with which notification to open first, your brain telling you to open Murph’s text, but your heart pulling for you to see what Jake added.
Against your better judgment you swipe open the playlist notification, watching the songs populate in the playlist. As you scroll to the bottom you let out a sigh seeing his addition of ‘Don’t Wanna Fight’ by Alabama Shakes.
You tap the song, letting the opening notes play through your phone as you swipe out of it and open your texts.
Murph
6:47AM: Good morning, hope you slept well.
6:48AM: When we get to Glasgow and get settled I’ll send you more concrete details for tonight, just have a few things to secure first. Can’t wait. 😎
You
7:05AM: I can’t wait either, looking forward to it! 🎹
You toss your phone on the nightstand and pull yourself out of bed, quickly dressing and packing up your suitcase to meet everyone in the lobby. To say you’re dreading it is an understatement, and you know that the three hour bus ride into Glasgow is going to be anything but pleasant.
Thankfully you were able to secure a seat near the back of the bus, leaving Jake, Isla and the rest of the crew towards the front. You can see Murph’s head peeking over the top of the seat, his eyes finding you just as the bus pulls out into traffic.
You
8:02AM: Cool kids sit at the back of the bus
Murph
8:03AM: Someone has to watch the children
You
8:04AM: I’ll just be back here thinking about tonight, then…
Murph
8:05AM: Hasn’t left my mind all morning 😉
Your heart flutters as you see him turn around and wink at you, your cheek growing red with lust. You spend much of the three hour ride deciding what to wear and how you wanted to do your hair for the show, simultaneously listening to the new Keys album.
It’s not long before you’re rolling your suitcase over the threshold of your new hotel room, flopping down on the oversized bed with a sigh of relief. The bus ride was uneventful, just as you’d hoped it would be.
You open the facetime app and tap Ruth’s name, knowing she needs a rundown and that you need her help deciding on an outfit. As the call connects you see her in her bathroom, towel on her head as she does her skincare routine.
“Hello…” she answers, a mumble as her mouth contorts into an ‘O”.
“Ruth, code red I need you to help me pick an outfit for tonight,” you groan.
“What’s tonight?” she asks, peeking an eye open to look at you.
“The Black Keys show with Murph!” you shout, “Do you even listen to my voice memos anymore?!”
“Yeah, all fifty of them,” she snickers, “What are the options?”
“Well, anything really, but it has to be hot because I’m trying to get laid.”
“Oh, yeah sure, not because Jake and Miss Congeniality are going to be there too, right?” she taunts.
“No,” you lie. Of course you want to make him jealous.
“What is Muscles McFly wearing?” she asks.
“Well, if I had to guess, jeans and a t-shirt. Kind of his signature look,” you laugh.
“Okay, and you’re tryna smash, right?”
“I mean, yeah, hopefully,” you blush.
“Okay, mini skirt. Boob top. Lip gloss. Never fails.”
“The fuck is a boob top?” you laugh.
“Something that makes your tits look good, idiot,” she barks.
“Oh yeah, because I packed so many of those for freezing cold Europe,” you add.
“Well, just do your best, but definitely the skirt. And don’t even say you don’t have one because I slipped mine in your suitcase for this exact purpose.”
“Ruthie…” you groan.
“Thank me tomorrow when you can’t walk,” she smiles, winking at you as she ends the call.
You laugh and toss your phone onto the bed, opting for a quick nap before you have to get ready for the show.
—
Murph
4:57PM: Meet you in the lobby in fifteen to pick you up?
You
4:59PM: Pick me up?
Murph
5:01PM: Might have got another truck
You
5:02PM: Of course you did. See you in a few. 😙
You take a look at yourself in the mirror, deciding that yeah, maybe Ruth was right about the boob shirt. You looked good, better than good. You knew Murph was going to love it, and Jake was going to hate every second of seeing you in it with someone that isn’t him.
You slip on your boots and swipe on your lip gloss, grabbing your bag and making your way downstairs to the lobby. As you step outside the glass doors you see Murph leaning up against the hood of a truck, arms crossed across his chest. His muscles are defined beneath his t-shirt, his hat turned backwards as he eyes you up and down.
“My, my, well don’t you look gorgeous,” he smiles.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome,” you flirt. You see his smile grow as he pushes off the truck and moves to open the door for you. You can smell his cologne wafting off of him, dark and masculine. It’s intoxicating, and you stop yourself from breathing in too much.
You jump up into the truck, letting him shut the door behind you. He makes his way around to the other side, getting in next to you and starting the engine. “You ready?”
“More than,” you grin, crossing your legs.
“Me too,” he smiles, pulling out onto the busy street.
“How do you always manage to get your own vehicles in every place we go?” you laugh, turning to look at him.
“Some say I’m a magic man,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.
“I like the sound of that,” you answer, rubbing your glossed lips together.
“You smell amazing,” he says, almost as if he’d been dying to say it.
“Yeah?” you ask.
“Yeah, like, very very fucking good,” he admits.
“Well, it’s pheromones. It reacts differently on everyone’s skin, and it smells different to everyone who smells it. It’s supposed to help you attract people,” you smile.
“Not to be too forward, but it’s making me want to fucking devour you,” he confesses through a grin.
Your chest swells with lust as his words sink in, and in that moment you briefly consider skipping the concert so he can do just that. His phone rings, breaking your conversation. He holds his phone to his ear as he answers.
“Murph,” he says.
“Yeah, we are about ten minutes out. Tell them I will meet them at the artist entrance and walk them in the side doors,” he continues. “Sounds good, see you then.”
Your brow furrows as you try to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. He ends the call and turns to look at you with a sneaky look on his face.
“Who are we meeting?” you ask nervously.
“Well, as much as I would like to have you to myself tonight, it’s a bit of a family trip. Gotta walk the crew in then I’m all yours once Paul and Dean show up.”
“Oh, yeah, okay. That’s no problem. I mean, it’s your job and all,” you grin, feeling his hand slide over to rest on your bare thigh.
“You’re sweet, you know?”
You shrug your shoulders and blush, wondering if you’d ever received such a genuine compliment.
The rest of the car ride is spent listening to music and soaking in the feeling of his warm protective hand on your leg. He pulls into the parking lot and pulls into a space, smiling as he puts the car in park.
“Oh, that reminds me, there is actually one more thing I forgot to tell you,” he grins.
“Oh, gosh, what?” you ask nervously.
He reaches into the backseat and pulls out two lanyards with laminated badges reading Backstage - All Access.
“Ezra,” you gasp. “How–”
“Surprise, baby,” he smiles, placing the black lanyard over your head. He pulls your hair over the strap, letting it fall back over your shoulders.
“How did you– Please tell me how you managed to get backstage passes?! Like, this is almost impossible, I’ve tried,” you huff into the air as you and Murph jump out of the truck and high-step it into the venue, following behind the hoards of people who are also running late for the show.
He steps sideways, wrapping his strong arm around your neck as he pulls you into him for just a few seconds as if you’re his kid sister.
“I think you need to stop asking questions and just trust that I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever met,” he boasts into your ear, kissing the side of your head quickly before releasing your neck and pushing you away again.
You scoff at him through your teeth, your heart doing backflips at his gesture. “I don’t know about the coolest…maybe the most annoying, though…” you tease, shooting him a wink.
You both skip every other step as you rush up the concrete stairs to the venue doors, already hearing the loud crashing music of the openers. You’d seen the Black Keys twice before, the last time being almost five years ago, now. But since then they've put out so much more music. Since then you’d fallen so much more in love with them. And since then, you’d met Murph. Who just kissed the side of your head, and is taking you backstage.
“Am I really annoying?” he asks, letting you step ahead of him to go through the metal detectors at the entrance. His look had turned from playful to genuinely concerned, and you halfway wonder if he actually believed your statement.
“No! Crazy, you’re not annoying in the least,” you smile, picking your purse back up from the container as he follows you through it. “You’re amazing.”
His eyes are already scanning around, and you can tell that he’s not used to being on this side of these kinds of events. “Fuck, good. Last thing I wanna do is get on your nerves.”
The two of you dash and wind through the crowds, and you know that he’s searching for the guys. He is semi off the clock tonight, but watching out for them has already become ingrained in his mind…more than a job, and more of a duty.
“Danny said they’d be over this way, come on!” He shouts toward you, and you wonder how on earth, and why on earth they decided to be part of the general admission pit when they share fans with half of the Keys’ fandom. Seems a bit…unsafe, but, whatever.
Murph takes your hand in his as you push through the thickening crowd, sweetly intertwining his fingers with yours. He feels strong and steadfast, people basically stepping aside for him as you trail behind. You watch as he nods quick ‘thank you’s’ to each person that lets you through. Such a gentleman.
He squeezes your hand every few seconds, silently asking if you’re okay back there. You return the squeeze, his oversized, calloused palms gently scratching against your soft hands. You wonder what they’d feel like touching you in other places…
“Murph! Hey man!” You hear Danny’s voice beckon, and you see his curls sitting on his head, taller than everyone else. Murph turns back to look at you, pulling you to the right a little as he leads you toward the group.
Your stomach sinks when you see Jake, dressed in all black with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his blue-tinted sunglasses sitting on his nose. His tongue sucks into his cheek as he gives you an up-down, noticing first how your hand is tightly clasped in Murph’s. You can see his chest rise with a sarcastic laugh as he continues to wrap his arm around Isla’s waist, swigging beer from the plastic cup in his other hand.
Fucking asshole. You know he’s just being touchy to get under your skin.
You stand awkwardly as you watch Danny turn to look at the two of you, giving you a questioning look as he contorts his face up as if to say, ‘Murph, what have you got here, attached to your side?’
Murph reads his expression, leaning in close to whisper in Danny’s ear. Danny responds with a satisfied and agreeing head nod, giving him a quick fist bump as he looks back at Jake, but only for a second. Danny bites the edge of his beer cup between his front two teeth as he turns back to the stage, giving you a quick wink before he wraps his arm around Mia.
Fuck, what did Murph say?
“Y/N, they’re in like, a roped-off type area. We can stand beside them but I can’t get us over there,” Murph yells into your ear.
You bite your lips in and give him a pitiful look, standing on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ear. “…But we have backstage passes, and they don’t. Who are the real winners here?”
As you pull back, you’re met with his hundred-watt smile, sending butterflies all through your stomach. God, he is so…
You both know you’re lying to yourselves, the guys have met them before and probably even had conversations with them. But it was fun to pretend for just a little while that you were the famous ones, ready to flash your badges at whoever asks to see them.
“You’re so right,” he rolls his eyes, motioning to the guys behind them like they were beneath you. “You wanna watch the show from here, or go watch from the side-stage? My buddy is back there working tonight, said we could come say hi…”
“Oh, so it’s a buddy that got you these passes, huh?” you tease, letting your other hand join in with the other, squeezing into his rough hands. Your eyes drift over to the guys again, and you see Ty motion for you to come and stand with them. But you pretend like you didn’t see him. You pretend that the guy that’s had you secretly crying every night for the past couple weeks wasn’t standing there with his beautiful girlfriend, pulling her into him as they ignored everyone else around them.
“Let’s go up there,” you make the executive decision, which Murph seems completely alright with.
“Yes ma’am,” he responds, turning to give one last word to Danny and Sam, and to Dean and Monty before taking off toward the staircase to head backstage. The sky is growing dark with clouds, and you wonder if it is going to rain on you.
You spend much of the show watching from side stage, dancing along to every song and singing at the top of your lungs. You’re pretty sure Murph didn’t realize how big of a fan you were when you didn’t miss a single lyric. A few times you caught him staring at you in awe, taking in the sight of you as you enjoyed every single second of the show.
He could hardly keep his hands off of you, circling your waist or holding onto your hips as you danced. It felt good. He felt safe. He sang along to the slower songs, his lips only inches from your ear as his deep voice ran shivers up your spine. Your eyes peered out into the crowd, and you saw him. Jake’s eyes locked on you as you were wrapped in Murph’s arms singing the words to ‘She’s Long Gone’. It felt a bit ironic, truthfully, because in a way you were. Or atleast, you wanted to be.
You let your eyes meet his as you mouth the words, his jaw hardening and his lips growing thin as he sipped from his beer. He was mad, maybe even jealous, probably both. You tried not to pay attention, looking up to see Murph standing behind you. His eyes met yours as he kissed the top of your head, sending a flutter of butterflies into your stomach.
You look over again to see him on his phone, feeling a buzz in your purse almost immediately. You pull your phone from your purse just enough to read his message.
Jake
9:16PM: What the fuck are you doing right now Y/N
You make eye contact with him as you shove the phone back into your purse and purposefully spin around in Murph’s arms to face him. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He’s watching your every move instead of his girlfriend right next to him. Let him watch. Let him feel how you felt.
It’s at that moment the guy next to you stumbles backwards, spilling his entire beer all over you.
“Yeah, it was your bad. Watch yourself next time,” he snaps.
You turn to Murph and give him a reassuring nod, “It’s okay, let me just go to the bathroom and clean up real quick,” you say.
“I’ll go with you,” he answers, a crackle of thunder rumbling in the distance.
“No, no. You stay here. Don’t lose our spot. I will be right back, promise.”
“Alright, don’t be long or I’ll come looking for you,” he smiles, squeezing your arm.
You make your way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning off the spilled beer and freshening up your makeup. You can hear them starting the encore, just as you step out into the crowd. You see the man that spilled his beer on you approaching you with a smug look on his face.
“Hey, sorry about that sweetheart. Let me make it up to you? Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.
“Um, no. I need to get back to my date, actually,” you answer.
“That brute?” he asks in his thick accent.
“Yeah. That brute,” you scoff.
His hand reaches for you as you walk away, grabbing your arm and pulling you back towards him. You see him go flying across the crowd as Murph pushes him off of you, pulling you behind him in a matter of a second.
“No one ever teach you not to grab a lady?” he says, spitting venom at the man. “I think you should go.”
“Go where?” she spits.
“Somewhere,” Murph says, and you can feel the fury pouring off of him. “Would be in your best interest to get far fucking away from me, sir. And as quickly as possible.”
He looks Murph up and down, quickly realizing he is no match for him. Not in this lifetime at least. The man mumbles something in a different language and walks in the other direction, admitting defeat.
“Shit, I’m so sorry Murph, I didn’t think he would follow me,” you whine.
“Not your fault, baby. Let’s go, yeah? Encore is almost over.”
“Okay, yeah. Hey, thanks for that,” you say, linking your fingers with his. He immediately softens, the tension releasing from his demeanor.
“Of course, wish I could have been there the first time,” he grins.
“Yeah, me too,” you say, thinking of Jake coming to your rescue, and if you truly meant that.
“Just gotta find the guys and then we can go,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. Another crack of thunder lights up the sky, and you know it's about to pour.
“I’m with you,” you smile, following happily at his side as the rain finally does start to fall around you.
—
JAKE POV
“You guys all good? Everyone here and accounted for?” Murph asks as he stands just outside of the awning of the back exit of the venue.
“We’re fine, you can go,” you bark under your breath, earning yourself a slight of Murph’s eyes. Y/N is standing beside him, his soaked leather jacket draped over her head as she watches him do his job. She’s not complaining, she doesn’t seem bothered by the cold, pouring rain at all. She actually looks…
He’s soaking wet, completely unbothered by the rain soaking through his shirt, too. Does this guy feel anything? Ever? Fucking man’s man.
As you slip through the back private door exit into the pouring rain behind them, you can’t help but feel overwhelmingly defeated. Defeated, and also so fucking envious that you know that your eyes are turning green. You can feel Isla’s finger slip through your back belt loop, following behind you as she shields herself from the blowing rain. You make little to no effort to hold her hand, or offer her your jacket, because frankly, you just don’t fucking think to.
All you can think of is seeing her hand in Murph’s, the genuine smile on her face as he pulled her toward backstage, and the joy in her eyes as he tossed his jacket over her head as they rushed outside. Fuck him. Fuck it. Does he even have any fucking clue that you and her–
No. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, because if she had told him about you and her, he would not be pursuing her right now. So he’s living blindly. Great.
Your hands are almost visibly shaking as you think about what they’re probably going to do tonight, and the way you left things with her. You still crave her, want to be involved with every little detail of her life, but now… god dammit, everything is ruined. Totally and completely fucking ruined.
Josh swings the door to the van open as you let everyone else climb inside ahead of you. You feel Isla’s finger slip free finally, and you let her climb in before you, hoping that there won’t be any room left for you to sit beside her.
But of course, your luck has run all the way out, and the only seat left in the van is squished in beside Mia, Danny, and her. She pats the seat, giving you her faux- fuck me eyes. “Sit here, baby, plenty of room…”
You audibly groan, contemplating walking for just a second before a loud crack of thunder shakes the air, forcing you inside the van. As it takes off through the puddling rain, you stare out the window in an attempt to ignore Isla’s wandering hand on your knee, getting way too close for comfort.
It’s as you grip her hand in yours and pull it away that you catch sight of them, Y/N and Murph booking it down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, hand in hand as their faces are lit up with laughter. She’s smiling so big as the rain soaks her clothing, seeming to have no care in the world as they make the tight turn into the lot. Before you lose sight of them, you catch him throwing his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head. It takes everything in you to not punch the window and break every single piece of glass from it, letting it shatter and cut your hands as you yell obscenities through the air. Who the fuck does he think he is?!
You’re sick with rage, the jealousy so overwhelming you swear you might be going insane. You feel your breathing pick up and your jaw tighten, physically ill with the thought of his hands on her. Where your hands belong. You think back to last night in the gym, how she yelled at you, how she seemed so distraught, and so disappointed in how things had worked out. Your heart is deafening in your ears, your fists balled up tightly as you try to talk yourself down.
Has she forgotten all the things you said to her? All the promises you made, all the honesty you’d shown when you let your guard down? Is she really about to waste it all?
Suddenly Isla’s hand on your thigh seems a lot less like an aggravation, and a lot more like the perfect opportunity, presenting itself on a silver platter.
Suddenly a slew of evil thoughts creep into the back corners of your mind, spiteful and grating as the bitterness takes up shop in your bones like a family of snakes.
Suddenly, resentment is the only emotion you feel.
—
HER POV
Your hand is on Murph’s thigh as he zips in and out of traffic as you leave the venue. Your whole body is buzzing after watching him show his authority to that stupid drunk guy, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said your mind hadn’t already traveled to some dark places in just the few short minutes you’d been in the car.
“That guy was a fucking idiot, Y/N. I almost fucking throttled him right then and there…” he says through gritted teeth. You squeeze his leg, trying your best to calm him, or even better, get him worked up in another way.
“It was fine, he was fine…I was handling it, I’m—”
“He spilled his beer all over you, Y/N! That’s not fucking okay! Following you? Grabbing you?” he stopped there, tapping his fingers angrily on the steering wheel.
“Well, it’s a good thing your friend was the one working their security tonight, right? You don’t always have to take care of everyone all the time, ya know…” you tried to speak quietly.
“Yes I do, Y/N. I don’t know any other way. Especially when it comes to someone like you…” he goes on, his eyes never leaving the road. He’s hunched forward in his seat, the windshield wipers on full blast as they swipe the raindrops falling heavily on the windshield.
“Someone like me?” You ask, hoping that he will explain further. Your body is burning with want for him, watching as his hands white-knuckle the wheel, and his left foot taps against the floorboards. The rain is still dripping down his cheeks, the top-half of his t-shirt almost completely soaked, making the material stick to his toned arms just a little too perfectly.
You shudder under the warmth of his jacket that he threw over you as you ran out the side exit into the downpour, ready to be away from the chaos that had just ensued inside.
“Yeah, someone like you. Someone I’m determined to keep around,” he says, giving you a quick glance from the side of his eye.
Your hand squeezes tighter around his thigh, and you feel no shame in moving it just a little higher. “You want me around?” you purr, like you don’t already know how into you he is.
He takes a deep breath as you near the parking lot of your hotel, his body slowly but surely calming from his adrenaline rush. “Yeah, I want you around. I want you around really fucking bad…” his hand mirrors yours, drifting to wrap almost completely around your leg, choosing a spot much, much higher than the one where your hand rests on his.
You almost moaned at his touch, his hand warm against the bare, chilled skin of your legs. You suck in a quick breath at his show of what is obviously desperation.
“Murph…” you breathe, your voice almost choked as you rise from your seat a little more, begging him to move his hand, dig his fingers in, anything…
“What, baby? Tell me what you want…” he growls, his chest heaving a little as one hand steers the car, while the other steers you into oblivion.
You exhale hard as his grip tightens, the pads of his fingertips adding extra pressure as he slowly ascends higher and higher on your leg.
The stoplight hanging above you turns red, and you curse it, or thank it, really…for giving you a second.
“I want…I—” you can hardly form the words, and he is hardly even touching you.
When you refuse to answer him, he retreats, his hand drifting away now down toward your knee.
“No, don’t…”
He’s finally able to make eye contact with you as the light stays red. “I said tell me, Y/N. Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you, whatever you want…” he shakes his head slowly as he talks, promising you his whole world like he doesn’t even know he’s slowly destroying yours.
“Want you to—to touch me, please, Murph. I—”
Without a word his hand climbs up again, snaking underneath your skirt to cup his palm directly over your cunt. The feeling is enough to pull a quiet whine from your chest, and you grip both armrests with haste as he presses two fingers expertly exactly where you need them.
“Fuck…” you breathe, his fingers slowly beginning to move.
The light turns green, and you slowly take off again. “This it? This what you wanted?” he asks.
You nod hard. “Mhm, yeah…” your legs fall apart a little bit on their own, your body pleading for him to have more access to you. Where the fuck is the hotel?!
You hear him breathing heavily as you know he wants nothing more than to touch you better, watch your face as his fingers move across you, already dripping wet for him.
As his fingers pull your panties to the side with one quick motion, your entire body feels like it’s about to erupt into flames. His fingers finally connect with you, skin on skin, and it’s almost too much. Your arms pick you up from your seat a little as your head hits the headrest, your mouth falling open as his middle finger connects with your clit.
“Oh my god…” you mutter, a little more loudly than earlier. Your new position allows him to dip his fingers low again, brushing against your opening and dragging your wetness through your folds. Your hand finds his arm, squeezing the muscle as you feel his tendons tighten and loosen as he works his hand expertly beneath your skirt.
You take a second to glance down, his hand completely hidden by the material of your skirt. The visual is all-encompassing as the lightning flashes another loud rumble of thunder through the air.
“God I can’t wait to park this fucking car,” Murph grits as he pulls into the private parking garage. It’s generally empty, save for a few cars here and there that look like they haven’t moved in a while. Most of the overhead lights are burnt out, leaving the garage nothing but a winding maze of shadows.
Murph whips the vehicle into a parking place against the back wall, into an area not illuminated with much light, at all. As soon as he puts it in park, he reaches underneath the seat to pull the lever, sending his chair as far back as it will go.
“Get the fuck over here,” he demands, holding up the two fingers that were just nearly inside you up, motioning for you to climb over the console.
You do as he asks, clambering over top of the center console and falling into his lap. One knee on either side of him, you press your entire body weight into him, both of you still soaked and frozen from the rain.
His hands are immediately gripping the backs of your thighs, jerking you into a position that he’s happy with as you grab his face, pressing your lips hard against his. Both of you are ripping and tearing at each other’s clothes, nails scraping and pulling across the skin of one another as your yearning finally comes to a head.
Your arms snake from his face to around his neck, your fingers catching the bill of his backwards hat, tearing it off his head and throwing it into the backseat. For the first time, you see his full head of dark, straight hair, a tousled mess, but matching the brown of his eyes perfectly.
You take his strands between the cracks of your fingers, pulling and twisting it into your grasp as he starts to make noises, now. Your tongues are fighting each other, the sweetness of the taste of him bringing you back to all the other times you’ve kissed him, but none ever this intense. None ever this desperate.
You take the time to press yourself down against his lap, finally feeling him hard and ready between your legs. He moans into your mouth, his hands now snaked up under your skirt again, his hands fully cupping both your asscheeks.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, baby…” he says as you break away for a second. “Feel so fuckin’ good…”
“You haven’t even felt me yet, Murph…” you laugh.
“Don’t need to feel you to know how good you are…how perfect…” he praises through pants of air. You reach behind you, searching with your hand until you find his cock, basically bursting at the seams of his still-damp jeans. You brush your hand across it a little before you squeeze. Just that touch makes him jump, his hands disconnecting from you for just a second as he gathers himself, his head rolling back a little as he grips your face in his hands, returning back to the heated kiss.
“Unbutton your jeans, Ezra,” you finally demand, unable to take this foreplay any longer.
He wordlessly obeys your command, lifting you up with one hand while the other does what you want, and unbuckles his belt. You never let up on moving your lips across his neck and behind his ear, needing him to know how badly you want this. You want him.
You can feel your arousal pooling again as his fingers fidget so closely to where you need them, but finally you hear the sound of his zipper pulling down, and the feeling of his dick springing free.
You sit back, your back almost hitting the steering wheel as you take a good look at him, hair a mess and face flushed in the darkness, before letting your eyes travel down his torso and land on his cock.
Your hand gravitates to it, wasting no time in letting yourself feel him, finally. His left hand shoots behind him and wraps around the headrest, while the other one trails along your face, your shoulder, your hip…
Your hand begins to work him, barely enough material in his jeans and boxers to give him enough room to spring all the way free. “Fuck, Y/N…” he breathes, bucking his hips up into your touch. Your eyes flitter to watch his face, his eyelids hooded and his mouth hanging open.
“I don’t have any protection…” he finally admits, breathing out a dissatisfied sigh.
“Good thing I don’t care,” you respond, surprising yourself. You know you aren’t ovulating, and you know Murph isn’t the type of man to even let you get this far if you had anything else to worry about. Your mind is spinning too fast and your body is ravaging itself with want too badly to care, anyway.
You wrap your arms around his neck again, sitting up as you let yourself search for his tip. Your hips swirl around a little until you finally find it, teasing yourself just a little as you let your wetness coat him.
“Are you sure, baby…” he begs, truly showing his gentlemanly morals, as far in as you already are.
“Do I have anything to worry about?” you ask, feeling a little annoyed.
He shakes his head quickly from side to side. “No. I promise.”
“Good then, I’m positive…” you respond, lining up perfectly with him. You slowly begin to sink yourself down on him, letting your body adjust to this new stretch as you do so. “Ffff…” you breathe out as you realize he just keeps filling you and filling you, so deliciously sweet you think you could come undone already.
The sounds that escape both of you bounce off the windows of the car as the steam already starts to coat them, both of you unable to utter a coherent word at all. You lift off of him again, finding him to be of notable size, before sinking back down and bottoming out again. “Shit, Y/N… my god, baby…” he says as he brushes your damp hair from your face, giving your whole body an up-down.
“Mhmm…” you agree, pressing your chest back to his as you lean forward, starting to find a little bit of a rhythm. Things are always more difficult in a vehicle, especially in the cramped front seat of one, but you could truly care less that your knee is shoving into the seatbelt and your head is hitting the top of the cab.
His hands are traveling all over you, warming your skin as they do, and you wish that he could touch you all over and caress the places he can’t reach, all for the sake of warming you up. Your handles, your sides, your breasts… he takes special care to take his time and memorize you, all while the both of you are straining to keep yourselves together.
“Fuck, you feel good,” you say as your hands dig in to his pecs.
“All yours baby, take what you want,” he growls, thrusting up into you.
He buries his head in your chest, and you silently thank Ruth for the shirt suggestion. His lips drag warm and wet across your chest, pulling the fabric of your shirt to the side to reveal your chest. He drags his teeth against your sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to rise and your nipples to harden further.
“Baby, shit…”
“God, Ez, keep going,” you beg breathlessly.
The sounds filling the cab are lewd and wet and everything you knew this would be. His mouth is velvet against your skin as your fingers grip harder into his hair. You start to roll your hips to meet his thrusts, knowing you aren’t going to last very much longer, especially in this position.
“Y/N,” he groans, letting his hands rest at the curve of your waist, “I want you, baby,” he pauses, gasping for air as he fights his release, “Want you all the time.”
His hips snap up into you, your eyes watering at the sensation. He feels so fucking good. “I want you,” you whine, tightening and fluttering around his cock.
“I’ll give it to you. You just fucking say it and I’ll give it to you,” he begs, needing desperately to claim you as his own.
His hand snakes down, his fingers circling rapidly over your swollen clit, pushing you over the edge.
“Murph, baby, yes! I’m there. I’m coming, fuck,” you cry out, the windows of the car practically dripping with condensation.
“Yeah, baby, me too, god you’re so fuckin’ sexy. Fuckin’ gorgeous, cum Y/N, let me fill you,” he says, thrusting into you one last time as you both meet your collective release.
Your name falls from his lips as you gasp his, your hands never leaving his hair as you unravel around him. You feel him warm and full inside of you, his eyes rolled back in his head as he starts to come down.
“I don’t wanna move,” you smile, pressing your lips to his.
“Don’t have to. More than happy to keep you right here, just like this,” he grins, nipping at your bottom lip. “Though I’d love to take you back to my room to get cleaned up.”
“Yeah? You want more?” you tease.
“I’ll never get enough of you girl,” he says, a little bit of an accent peeking through.
“Makes two of us,” you grin, rolling your hips one last time before lifting up off of him.
“I think we have early call time tomorrow, though,” he says, seemingly disappointed.
“We do. Full day, but then we have a week off,” you say, raising your eyebrows suggestively.
“Hmm, and just what am I gonna do with you for a full week,” he teases.
“I can think of a few things,” you wink.
“Come on, trouble. Let me walk you back to your room.”
—
JAKE POV
Pulling back into the hotel, you find yourself still reeling with madness, hoping to god you don’t run into Y/N and Murph in the lobby. It’d be in their best interest to stay far, far away from you right now.
You feel Josh at your side as you shake your jacket free of the residual rain and beeline toward the elevator, daring someone to even try and talk to you.
“Jake, baby, I’ll see you upstairs?” Isla asks from across the lobby as Lyla pulls her to the hotel bar. “We’re just having one drink.” You nod at her and wave her off, not really giving a fuck. Your mind is still rushing with those horrible thoughts of revenge, and you tell yourself that it would be the most delicious thing right now, to get a taste of retaliation and forbidden fruit at the same time. It’s fucking dirty and you know it, but it makes the thought all the more alluring.
“Hey, asshole, do not do what I think you’re gonna do…” you hear Josh in your ear as you step onto the elevator, Ty right behind him.
“Yeah, Jake, we saw them going to the parking garage too, I know you’re fucking seething with jealousy right now, but do not do this…” Ty agrees as you press the button for your floor repeatedly.
You cross your arms in front of you, staring up at the ceiling as you ignore them. Your skin is absolutely freezing, but it’s almost as if you can’t even feel it, completely numb physically and emotionally.
“I’m going to do whatever I fucking want,” you say, keeping monotone.
“Jake, I know you think that this is a good idea right now, but I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow and find out you fucking slept with her–” Josh grits in your ear, and you know he will probably make your life a living hell. But in all actuality, he doesn’t have to know shit.
The elevator dings for your floor, and you make a quick exit, leaving the two of them without another glance. “Night.”
You make a mad dash to your room, ripping your wet clothes off and changing into a pair of loose black sweatpants, forgoing a shirt. You make your way to the mini bar, grabbing two bottles of tequila and a cup, deciding to dig into the half-melted ice in the bucket from earlier in the day. You crack them open and pour them over the melted ice, drinking down half of it in one swallow.
What the fuck are you even thinking?
Suddenly Isla bursts back into the room, and that one drink at the bar must have ended pretty quickly, as she still had the bar glass full in her hand. “Heyyyyy baby!” she gloats with a hiccup. “I couldn’t wait any more, I wanted to come back up here with you…”
You recline back in your spot on the bed, grabbing your phone to mindlessly scroll as you attempt to ignore her. You’re going to fight this tooth and nail…
She begins dancing around the room, sipping her drink as she does. She’s singing a familiar tune, and it only takes you a few seconds to recognize it as a Keys song from tonight. You pay a little bit more attention, noticing that she isn’t singing any of the words correctly.
“Isla, get the words right, or don’t sing it at all. You’re insulting them,” you say, cutting your eyes at her.
She scoffs, “Ugh, at least I’m trying, their music just… was never really my cup of tea.”
You nearly choke on your own tongue. “Uh excuse me? They’ve been one of my biggest influences for the past ten years, all I fucking play and you don’t even like their music? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m sorrrrrry!” She falls onto the bed belly first, giggling at herself as she bounces. “They’re just kind of boring, I guess.”
If you weren’t insulted by the wrong lyrics, you’re fucking insulted now. No wonder things aren’t working out between the two of you. You toss back another drink of your liquor, resorting back to your phone to occupy you. Images of Murph and Y/N litter your mind again, and the envy piles back up in your chest, wondering what the hell they are doing right now. How fucking could she? And how the fuck could he?? His job is to come here and work for you, not galavant around with his coworkers…
Your eyes are caught watching the same video on repeat when Isla stands back up and pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it to her bag in the corner. You can't help but let your eyes drift, watching as she pulls her tight skirt down, revealing her perfectly proportioned body in a matching deep purple lace set. You swallow as you watch her move, running her hands over her body as she adjusts the thong, then as she runs her hands through her long tousled hair.
Fuck, look away.
She turns, her left hand lightly cupping her breast as she faces you completely, hardly paying you any mind as she lifts her drink to her lips again. She slowly sits on the edge of the bed, running her hand over her legs in an attempt to warm herself up. “That was a really good show though, wasn’t it Jake?” she asks, her eyes flicking to you for just a second as the remnants of her red lipstick stick to the white straw. “I see why you love them so much, and I’m sorry I never paid much attention before. ‘M gonna download a bunch of their songs right now…”
Your nose scrunches up in disbelief. She what?
“Yeah um, they’re excellent. Been around a really long time,” you agree, clearing your throat as you speak. She tilts her drink back a little as she nears the bottom of it, scrolling on her phone as she plays the beginnings of the Keys most popular songs. She stretches her neck as she listens and bobs her head, adding the songs to her playlist as she goes. Your eyes can’t help but wander again, taking in the shape of her back and legs, once all yours for the taking.
Her lingerie looks familiar, but you don’t want to let your eyes sit too long to figure out why. She stands and flips the lamp by the bed off, placing her empty glass on the nightstand. She lays down beside you, still completely invested in her phone and her music, humming along to the songs as she plays them.
For a second, things feel like they did a year ago, the two of you in a comfortable silence as you minded your own business, just happy to be in each others’ presence. No arguing, no yelling, just listening to music and being near one another.
It feels… nice.
She’s ignoring you altogether now, watching the videos she took tonight as she smiles and laughs at them, sending a few to Mia and Lyla.
Her hair is so long that the ends of it are tickling your arm, sending a little bit of a chill through your body. Your eyes begin to blur from the straight tequila, a familiar warmth coming through your veins. Suddenly memories come flowing back of the last time you saw her in that set, your brain racking with visions of her trying to take it off, but you making her leave it on.
You feel a wave of anxiousness shoot through you as her eyes pop to yours, catching you looking at her. “What are you looking at, Jacob?” she asks flatly.
“Nothing,” you reply, your eyes shooting back to your phone.
“Doesn’t look like nothing…” she grins, her eyes going back to her phone, too.
Before you can stop the words, they fall freely from your mouth. “Why did you wear that under your dress tonight?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “I dunno, it has good memories attached to it. Was hoping you’d take it off of me… You bought it for me for our anniversary last year, remember?”
Ah, that’s why it’s so familiar.
“Oh yeah, I remember,” you reply, and suddenly you remember a lot more from that night. Dinner and drinks had turned into a wild night, both of you passing out on the couch completely nude after not having made it back to the bed, at all.
“But, that didn’t happen,” she goes on, “I didn’t wanna waste it again, so I’m just wearing it for myself.” Her voice is light and airy, the complete opposite of what it normally is these days. The normal weight that sits above the two of you suddenly feels like a cloud full of sunlight, and you can’t lie, your sex-starved mind is having trouble taking your eyes off of her as her thumb mindlessly runs along the front seam of her thong.
She crosses one of her legs over the other as they’re bent up on the bed, her finger still scrolling through old Keys albums as she listens to her snippets, tapping her foot along in the air as the music plays. What the fuck, Jake? Get it together… Tooth and nail, remember? Tooth. And. Nail.
Just like she can read your mind, her free hand comes up and begins drifting over her skin, tickling herself just like she always does when she starts to get sleepy. You watch as her red fingernails lightly dust over her thighs and stomach, then along the side of her tit as she continues to ignore your existence, all the while you have begun to fight for your life through the lust that’s unabashedly coursing through your body. Ignore it Jake…
But the lust is too strong, and your need for revenge is greater than giving a fuck about the repercussions. Hell, Y/N is probably naked and under Murph right now, what do you have to lose? You remember the look Danny gave you at the show after Murph whispered in his ear, and the text that he sent you shortly thereafter that simply said ‘Yeah, it’s what you think’. She ignored you all day, your text at the show, won’t even give you the time or a second glance… Everything is fucked anyway…
Isla is still relaxed across the bed, slurping at the melted ice in the bottom of her glass without a care. Is she really ignoring you right now? After being so persistent the past few days, what switched?
Her fingers are still drifting, her tits sitting perfectly in the purple lace cups, and your hands begin to remember what they feel like when you squeezed them, that deep-rooted feeling of desire burning hot in your belly and chest. God damnit…
She moans a little yawn as she switches her crossed leg, obviously making a spectacle of her own body, but you swear on your life, she doesn’t seem to be doing it on purpose. She truly looks like she’s just laying and relaxing in her own little world on her phone. This is your old Isla. You hear another laugh fall from her lips as she’s now switched to texting in a group with Mia and Lyla, completely uncaring that you can fully see her screen. The sound is like music to your intoxicated ears, reminding you of all the times you would make her make that sound. When you would make her make even better sounds.
Truly, sex was never your issue. It came so naturally to the two of you that it felt habitual but in a good way, leaving little to discuss because you each knew the other's body so intimately, so perfectly. You feel your dick hardening in your jeans as you try to distract your thoughts, but also, why should you?
Just then, Isla sets her glass back down, turning her body to face you with her hand tucked up under her cheek. “Do you wish these were your hands on me, Jake? I can feel your eyes...”
You swallow harshly as you’re caught. “Maybe,” you growl.
She giggles, leaning in closely as her lips drift across yours. You feel her essence take over your senses, remembering the smell of her like it was yesterday. The intoxicating feeling of her body on yours when you weren’t screaming at each other tumbling back from its place in your memory box. Her hand drifts up to grip in your roots, pulling your face further into her, but not yet making contact.
You’re breathless as you watch her eyes scan yours, her brow furrowed as she tries to read you. Your chest is tight and your limbs are frozen in place. You feel like you’re unable to think as you decide on your next move. Your body wants to pick her up and bend her over, rip her thong to the side and fuck her into the headboard until she’s screaming your name… but your mind is begging you to stay away. Back out now. Run so far away that you get lost.
But the devil on your shoulder begins to win the fight as your body betrays you, your head leaning in to finally let your lips make contact with hers. Her grip on your hair tightens as she kisses you back, her tongue already diving deep into your mouth. You bite it, pulling on it with force before switching to holding it with your lips, popping it before you dive right back in.
Motherfucker she tastes so good, the cold tequila still very much present on her lips.
The both of you are ravenous once contact is made, your arms wrapping around her to lie her back into the pillows, giving you a bit more control as your hands begin to explore her body.
Fuck, this is so wrong. This is such a bad goddamned idea. Stop, just stop now, while you’re ahead…
But she tastes like fucking honey. And your dick is throbbing. And she’s so familiar, and gorgeous, and begging for you to fuck her…
She whimpers into your mouth as your hand drifts down to grip her tit, ripping the fabric away as your fingers pinch at her nipple, rolling it between your thumb and pointer finger. The sound alone makes your dick twitch in your pants, and all you can imagine is her hand on you, pulling you free from the confines of your boxers. Your hand moves from her tit to her side, gripping your fingertips into it as you move down to her hip, your mouths still fighting each other for dominance.
You press down on her hip with force, making one of her knees bend up. Your hand brushes across her stomach and down to her cunt, her body already bucking itself up into your touch and you haven’t even given it to her yet. You break away from the kiss, panting and sweating with blind lust as you look into her eyes, deep and dark as she bites her swollen lips together.
Finally she gives you what you want, her hand reaching between you to brush over your dick, hard as rock under her hand. “Hm, still get hard for me, huh Jacob? I knew you did–”
You silence her quickly with a harsh hand over her mouth blocking any more words from escaping. You pause, giving her a look so menacing you think it might scare her off, but instead, you feel her smile under it. She undoes the button of your jeans with one quick motion, letting her hand dive inside your jeans and boxers, finding your cock with ease. You inhale sharply at the feeling of her grip, your jaw tightening down as you continue to press your hand on her mouth. She pulls your waistband down with her other hand as your dick springs free, bobbing and grazing the inside of her leg.
Her hand travels to tease the tip, lightly tickling over it as your eyes begin to roll back. Her eyebrows raise in question, and you know exactly what she’s thinking, the conniving–
You thrust into her hand, your entire self burning with desire to fill her up, but your hand presses on her mouth harder. Her leg falls to the side even more as your free hand reaches down to grip yourself, running it over the fabric of her thong. Her eyes close quickly as you tease her back, pushing the head of your dick against her opening, already drenched through the lace.
You kiss her again, but only once before breaking away. Your finger hooks in the seam of her thong, pulling it to the side as you use your hand to guide yourself into her, slowly, so fucking painfully slowly…
“You don’t say a mother fucking word about this to anyone, you hear me?” you ask quietly as you hold eye contact, your hand still covering her mouth. “No one knows.”
You stupid idiot motherfucker.
Your hand is still gripped on your shaft as you circle around her entrance, still only allowing yourself a few centimeters of access. “Do you hear me?” you ask, of which she responds with a quick nod.
“If you want me to fuck you, say yes… but if I hear of you sharing this with even fucking Lyla, I swear to god…”
You pull your hand away from her mouth for long enough to hear her speak. “Yes, Jake, please… I promise, it’s our secret… no one has to know…” she pleads, and you know she could be lying, but you’re already in this far. “Please, baby I need to feel you…” Finally, against every voice screaming at you in the back of your mind, you let your hips press into her all the way, her leg flying out to the side as her head tilts back into the pillows. “Ahhhh, oh my god oh my god baby…” she groans as you bottom out, and you have to admit, she still feels fucking perfect wrapped around you. One of the best you have ever fucking had.
Your mind is racing with thoughts so fast you can hardly see straight, the liquor definitely doing its job in assisting your lust. You pull out, your dick completely drenched with her wetness, before pushing back in again. You want to take it slow, enjoy every single second of your revenge, but on the other hand you want to get this over with. You know you’ve already made a grave mistake.
You maneuver yourself to place both hands on either side of her head, hovering over her completely now as her hands latch on to your sides, pulling you further into her. “God baby, harder, please…” she begs.
You tap her lips with your fingertips. “Shh. Quiet, remember?”
She nods accordingly, biting her lips to keep herself from screaming out. You place both of your knees between her legs as you sit back a little bit, taking in the blurry sight of her. So gorgeous and perfect just like you remember. Just as your eyes hit where the two of your bodies are connected, she reaches down with both hands, pulling her lips apart even further for you. The visual is enough to make you want to cum right then and there, and you groan loudly as you press into her again, a new sensation as her hands make her opening even tighter for you.
“Jacob, baby, I thought we were being quiet?” she says, biting into your shoulder.
You breathe a displeased huff as her teeth dig into your muscle, causing you to want to choke out another moan of pleasure. She knows exactly what she’s doing. You pick up with pace for real now, holding on to the back of the headboard as you lift one of her legs to bend to her chest, and wrapping the other one around your waist. You begin pounding into her with a force so dramatic the headboard is beating against the wall, but you could care less.
She’s still biting her lips, trying her best to hold her sounds in, but then again, you’re having a hard time, too. God, this feels so fucking good. But it doesn’t feel right. Not in the least. Your guilt is starting to sink in as you look down at Isla’s gorgeous face begging to scream your name, all the while imagining Y/N doing the same for you, not that long ago.
It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. Your body has rejected you, your mind isn’t as strong as you thought. The most devastating mistake you could ever make is happening right now in real time, and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re not going to make it out alive.
Isla gushes around you as you feel her body tightening, her nails gripping into your sides as she makes her marks on you. She reaches behind your neck, pulling you down to her. You release your grip on the headboard and follow her guidance. “C’mere, baby, want you down here with me where I can see you, where I can feel you. Missed you so bad… wanted us again for so long. Fuck, you feel so goddamn good inside of me, baby…” she whispers, still following your instruction of being quiet. Her words were always the cherry on top of her already top-notch fucking, and you halfway consider flipping her to let her ride you, but you avoid the thought.
You slow things down as her hand still stays rested between you, the other still pulling at your hair drifting down into your face. You feel her hand move between you, massaging her clit as you begin to roll your hips at a slower pace. “What, I’m not enough for you?” you ask, swiping her hand away and taking over the motion yourself.
Isla laughs. “No, just wanted you to take that job over for me,” she smirks with a satisfied smile. Fuck, she did it again. You can feel her wetness all over your hand as you continue your languid swipes into her, your thumb working her up even more, now. The sounds that fill the room are wet and smacking, making the high you’re reaching for all the more craveable. She feels fucking perfect. But, you know that she is not.
Your hand covers her mouth again as her moans become closer and closer together, her eyes closing as her jaw falls open. You know she’s close, but you’re not going to let anyone hear the commotion if they happen to come knocking on your door.
“Gonna come, Jake… baby–” she says from behind your hand, and you feel her whole body tensing and tightening as her orgasm washes over her, her nails digging roughly into your sides. And the feeling of her coming apart beneath you for what had to be the thousandth time, finally feels like what would be the last.
Her pathetic sounds make you begin to throb inside her, and you know you’ll be following closely behind in a matter of seconds. You release your hold on her mouth as you steady yourself, your hands gripping hard into the sheets as the white light hits your eyes.
Jake, no.
At the very last second, you pull away from her, taking yourself in your hand and pumping a few times before you let yourself go, coating her stomach and legs with your release.
The both of you breathe through the comedowns, sweaty and panting as the reality of what just happened sets in. You hop up to get her a towel, returning to help her wipe herself clean.
“You could have, you know…” she says with disappointment.
You shake your head as you toss the rag to the floor and lay back down again, still out of breath. “No. I couldn’t have. How would I know if you skipped a pill or something?”
“Jake, I would never–”
“You wouldn’t? Are you sure about that?” you ask, proud of yourself for not making that mistake.
She stays quiet as she avoids eye contact with you. “You’re probably not even on it anymore, are you?” you ask. She solemnly shakes her head.
“Made me sick.”
You nod, knowing that that wasn’t a conversation that would have been appropriate at all in the past few months.
“This goes nowhere but in this bedroom, Isla, please promise me. You understand?” you ask. “It was a moment of weakness. This doesn’t change anything about where we stand.”
She sniffles her nose clear. “It changes nothing, huh?”
You swallow, finding the courage to speak on this once and for all. Finding a clear and level head like you’d never found it before. “Nothing.”
And it truly didn’t. You still feel the exact same. Though your bodies mesh so perfectly that it’s a sin in itself to go unacted upon, you know that the toxicity would come creeping back, just like it always does. It’s time to wash your hands clean.
“Do you still love me, Jake? Even a little bit?”
You shake your head. “No, Isla. It’s gone.”
—
HER POV
You roll over to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, your hair a mess over your eyes as the sunlight beams onto your face. You sit up in a hurry, the memories of last night coming back into your mind one by one. Ezra’s room. You calm a little as you brush the strands from your eyes, huffing a breath of relief as you search around the room for him, but you come up short.
The bathroom light is off, and you notice that his boots are not by the door. You glance to the clock to find it still fairly early, your call time not for another hour. There, laying on the nightstand by the clock, is a folded piece of white paper with your name written on the front in scribbled pen. You pick it up and unfold it, finding it to be the receipt from the place you’d grabbed a late, greasy dinner with Murph at a place by the hotel last night. He’d insisted that you eat, even though you both were a soaked, freezing, post-sex mess.
Mornin’ sunshine
Couldn’t wake you, you looked too damn pretty
Had a great time with you last night
The boys are gonna have a hard time knockin this smile off my face today
But I won’t tell them why : )
The breakfast downstairs ain’t my momma’s, but it’s close
See you later on baby
-Ezra
You swoon at the fact he left you a love note to wake up to, and you fold it back up, tucking it perfectly into your purse that lied on the floor by the bed. Your mood has instantly changed, and you’d almost completely forgotten about the dramatics that Jake decided to add to the evening with his text and song addition last night.
He looked absolutely miserable. You know that his hands on Isla were just to piss you off and attempt to make you jealous, and they did to an extent, but really all it did was make you feel even worse for him. You know that if you hadn’t been standing there with Murph, he would have been enjoying the show with his brothers, one hand stuffed in his pocket and not wrapped around Isla’s waist in a petty attempt to jab at you.
Poor guy, honestly. Maybe you were too harsh on him in the gym. But damn, if it doesn’t feel like all Jake does is try to explain himself to you. Maybe one last try. One last go around of hearing his side of things…
You pick up your phone seeing a slew of notifications, but what you can’t seem to shake away is the song on repeat in your mind. The one he added to tell you how he feels. He doesn’t want to fight. Hell, you don’t want to fight either. It’s been exhausting. You toss your phone onto the bed as you run your fingers through your hair, deciding that against your better judgment you want to give Jake one more shot, one more chance to clear things up. You’ve got to be an adult about this, your job depends on it.
You make yourself look presentable, brushing your teeth and throwing on something more appropriate as you snatch a keycard from the dresser.
You know Isla will be in there with him, but she is going to give you a minute to speak to Jake. You have just as much dog in this fight as she does, given that Jake and everyone else has been telling you the truth about their relationship for all this time. You had somewhat of a relationship with him, too. And if you’re going to continue to work professionally by his side, you’re clearing it up. Now.
You make a quick pit stop in the downstairs lobby, grabbing not two, but three coffees and a handful of sugar packets. Peace offering. Like adults.
You rush back upstairs and knock a few times on his door, stepping back to gain your confidence to ask him to speak privately in the hall. No emotions, no ties. Just a chance to clear the air, that’s all you really want.
You hear a commotion behind the door and a high-pitched giggle that you instantly recognize. Suddenly the door swings open, revealing a scantily-clad Isla, her body wrapped up in the bed sheets that are hardly doing enough to cover her barren chest and legs. Oh. A quick glance behind her shows Jake in almost the same attire, sitting anxiously on the edge of the bed as he tries to cover himself.
Fucking shit.
You watch as his eyes fall shut and his face grimaces, knowing that this is the worst possible way they could have been caught. And that’s exactly what you did. You fucking caught them.
“Oh, hey, we didn’t order room service… Jake already ate plenty last night, but thanks anyway,” Isla smirks a harsh wink at you as she attempts to pull the sheet more tightly around her before slamming the door in your face.
Tears are already filling your eyes as you set the coffees down on the floor, rushing back off toward the elevator as quickly as you can. That was the last fucking thing you thought you’d see this morning.
Your breath is catching in your throat as you pace, and you hear the faint sound of Jake’s voice yelling after you as you get closer to your destination. You ignore it, but hear it and his footsteps getting closer. Fuck him, fuck all of this.
Finally you reach the metal doors, pressing the button over and over and over until it finally springs open and you step inside, watching the image of Jake running down the hall toward you, your name falling from his lips as the doors cut him off. You hear his fists bang on the cold metal before it takes off on its descent, leaving your heart to plummet to the ground right along with it.
