The Sophomore (College Years 2)

Ellie’s cheeks turn pink. I glare. They all laugh at us, just as we start laughing too.

I am on top of the world right now.

On top of the fucking world.

There’s a loud knock at the door, just before Stu barges inside. “There’s a group from Evergreen Records here to talk to you, J. What do you want me to tell them?”

I glance around at my friends. “Time to leave, folks.”

Complaining groans fill the air, but they all file out of the room, offering their congratulations to me as they pass by. Ellie tries to make her escape with them, but I keep my arm firmly around her shoulders, not letting her go until they’re all gone and I’ve sent Stu away to bring Rick and his cronies back to the dressing room.

“Give me a kiss for luck,” I tell her, feeling cocky.

“You don’t need it.” She gives me a sweet peck on the lips anyway, pulling away before I can demand more. “Good luck. You’ve got this.”

“This one feels right to me,” I tell her, suddenly nervous.

Scared.

Damn it, I’ve never been scared talking to any of these record label people. Not once. I’m the one who always acted like I’ve got nothing to lose, and they’ve had everything to gain. But right now, I’m worried I’ll somehow mess this up.

And I don’t want to. Not with this label.

Ellie’s expression turns serious too. As if she understands how important this is to me, even though I haven’t said that out loud yet. The girl can read my mind. She’s so attuned to me. Just like I’m tuned in to her.

“You’re going to be fine. I’m sure they already love you,” she whispers, patting me in the center of my chest. She curls her fingers around the chain dangling from my neck, pulling on it so I have no choice but to meet her lips one more time for a gentle kiss. “Just be yourself, Jackson. They won’t be able to resist you.”

I blow out a harsh breath, leaning my forehead against hers for a beat as I gather my thoughts and nerves. “Right. Okay. You coming back to my apartment? We’re having a small get-together. I want you there.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she admits, biting her lower lip in that way of hers. I want to be the one who bites that lip. “I was kind of mad at you.”

“You still mad?” I hang on her every word, praying she doesn’t reject me.

“A little.” She shrugs. A small smile tickling the corners of her lips. “How can I stay mad when you write me dirty songs?”

“Then it worked.” I squeeze her hand as she slowly pulls away from me. “I won’t be too long, I don’t think. I’m not sure how this is going to go.”

“It’ll be great.” She smiles.

I wish I had as much faith in myself as she has in me.

I watch her leave the room, my gaze glued on her

ass, exhaling loudly with relief that she’s not completely pissed at me. The minute she’s gone, three dudes and an extraordinarily beautiful woman stride into the dressing room, all wearing matching cool smiles on their faces as they study me with undisguised interest.

It’s a little creepy. I feel like an animal locked up in a zoo.

The one in the expensive suit steps forward, his hand thrust out toward me. “Jackson, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Rick.”

I shake his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Terrific performance tonight. Really enthusiastic crowd,” he says, nodding as he glances around the cramped dressing room. “No alcohol to celebrate?”

“Wanted to keep a clear head,” I tell him truthfully.

“Got it. Well, we think you’re fabulous. Amazing. Such a unique sound, considering the market currently. Great rendition of Vultures. Mayer is a lyrical genius,” Rick gushes.

“Thanks.” I’m suddenly filled with the need to have a shot to calm my nerves.