Yeah, she wanted that full-body experience, but she’d never denied Jay entry to her body. That was his thing, a way having some control of his own. They could both go on being extremely sexually satisfied without P penetrating V but not kissing with every resource they had was increasingly frustrating.
Jay was a truly great kisser. From the first time they’d pashed she’d known it made him a keeper. He treated a kiss like an instrument. Respected it, understood the infinite variety of it and that it was a unique partnership between lip and mouth and tongue in duet with the lip and mouth and tongue of a whole other person.
Jay’s kisses had meaning, told stories with a beginning, middle and an end that fed upon the story her lips told him. Iterations of warmth and desire, spliced with impatience and lust and all the information Evie needed to find her place in the world.
A kiss on the lips from Jay was a tone sounded right through her body, a tune-up in preparation for the passion to follow.
She was gagging for it.
She finished off the water. The headache was still threatening to make an appearance, but she’d made a decision. Her timing was off for confronting Errol, though she was glad it was done, and no time was better than now, when Jay had no reason to expect it, for the first kiss of their second chance to happen.
She sent him a text. Are you still here? He might not respond to her message. He was a professional and wouldn’t stop a meeting to read his phone. She could go in search of him, but this was a big place and he could be anywhere, and she didn’t want to run into Errol or the boys again today.
There were iced donuts at the refreshment station. Donuts were good for headaches. That had to be a thing, right? She ate a donut and checked her phone to find his text response. A photo of the stage from way back captioned Meet you at the worst seats in the house.
That meant a lot of climbing, up to the furthest row of seating. She was going to burn off that donut and when she kissed Jay, she’d taste of chocolate and baked goodness.
And he’d taste of opportunity.
SIXTEEN
From where Jay sat, way up in row 396, where they could have some privacy, Evie was a little ant commencing her climb. When she’d stood on that stage and opened her arms wide, chin high and a huge smile on her face, she’d looked like an absolute star.
He didn’t know what to make of that. She didn’t look like she was messing about so much as trying the space on for size.
She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t want to be a performer, but he worried she’d dug her heels in about it and then reinforced her opposition by having to defend her decision year after year. That kind of setup didn’t allow her to easily reconsider. She’d have to back down and Evie wasn’t one for backing.
Which was something he needed to remember, because it applied to him.
He slumped back into the unforgiving plastic chair. Evie was dog-sized now. She’d stopped to catch her breath, hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. He waved. She gave him big-dog energy and what he guessed was a fuck-you gesture.
He had no doubt she could record the new song and have a hit on her hands. It wasn’t the kind of song that played to stadiums like this. It was the kind that sat around at the top of the pop charts for weeks and got people excited and sold albums faster than rockets, then got licensed for a movie or a TV show and a decade later for a big advertising campaign.
It was better than anything he’d written for a year or more.
/>
He’d listened to the song a dozen times. When they first started playing, Evie was hesitant, focused on laying down words, not how they sounded, and uncharacteristically self-conscious. By the time he recorded her, she’d virtually forgotten he was there. She was deep into the flow and sang full-throated. She’d come out of it exhausted and triumphant. Fucking awesome moment for celebratory kisses. He’d made do with carrying her to bed and making her little spoon. It was no hardship.
Evie hadn’t moved other than to type something on her phone. That thing was nearly permanently attached to her hand and when she talked about Tice Social it was with pride and ambition for how she wanted it to grow.
With the exception of the uncomfortable revelations of how they screwed up last time around, nothing with Evie was a hardship. Yeah, he wanted her lips so badly, he was a little fixated on getting them—a lot fixated.
Fiercely fixated.
But everything else in the bedroom department was earth-shattering, carefully boxed up and labeled either joyful annihilation, merciful tenderness or passionate beast. It would be sacrilege to pick a favorite mood. It was a surprise how easy it was to give away the notion that his true sexual satisfaction was only to be found in Evie’s vagina. His ten years ago self would never have believed that was a possibility. As usual, Evie was one step in front of him. She’d known denying him kisses would be the biggest penalty.
And she had to know it would make him scheme for one like he was Errol’s successor.
Evie did the next bracket of stairs while talking to someone. The sound of her explaining how to use some kind of photo animating software drifted up to him and made him smile. By the time she finished the call she was close enough that he could see the flush on her face. One flight of stairs later, she threw herself into a seat two to his left. O to his M.
“You know how to take a girl right to the, oh God,” she gasped, “top.” She made a blowfish face at him and bent forward, breathing heavily and holding the top of her head. “No wonder they call these seats the nosebleeds.”
“I’m just trying to keep things on the lowdown. Are you going to keep sitting all the way over there?” This seating arrangement wasn’t increasing his chances of getting kissed.
“I should’ve eaten two—” she breathed. “Ah, shit, I’m out of condition, and my head is pounding. Donuts.”
“You got donuts with your site inspection?”