Him. The other him in my life, my devil guardian.
By being here.
It’s ridiculous. Super duper ridiculous.
It’s not as if this is the first time I’ve snuck out to see Jimmy against his wishes. In fact, I’ve made sure to go see Jimmy as much as possible just because he doesn’t want me to. It’s also not the first time I’ve snuck out of his mansion in order to do so either.
That was the whole reason he sent me to St. Mary’s, remember?
And so it doesn’t matter that he gave me a sewing machine which is fucking fabulous and works like a dream, and a weekend worth of freedom.
Plus chocolate chip cookies.
Mo had them ready when I arrived earlier this afternoon and I knew — just knew — that he was the one who told her to bake them for me after our stupid, embarrassing conversation.
So this guilt — for the past week and tonight — is ridiculous.
When Jimmy’s set is over, I take a deep breath of determination. I’m going to enjoy my time with him and not think about him. Besides, Jimmy is leaving for New York in a couple of days so this may be my last chance to see him before I go on tour with him.
Oh, did I mention that I said yes to him? Already?
Yeah, I did.
The very next day after my girls and I came up with the blackmail plan.
I snuck up to the third floor bathroom that’s always out of order and so where I hide my cell phone — that I specifically bought to keep in touch with Jimmy — and I texted him yes. I told him I’d love to go with him and that yes, I’ve always felt what he has felt and I can’t wait.
He was so excited about it too.
Since then we’ve been texting and emailing here and there, whenever I could, and I’ve decided that tonight, I’m going to kiss him.
Yeah, I’m going to get my first kiss.
The kiss I’ve been waiting for since the moment I saw him three years ago.
Although he’s in rare form tonight: all exuberant and charming. He’s high and maybe drunk too, and so I’m not as enthusiastic about my first kiss with Jimmy — or anyone else for that matter — as I thought I’d be.
But it’s okay.
It’s also important.
Now that we’ve both sort of acknowledged our feelings for each other, I want to seal the deal. I want to give him something to remember me by until we actually go on the road together. Especially with Erica hanging around.
With that thought, I take a step toward him.
But only a step because I see a wall.
A massive wall of a chest.
Of impossibly broad shoulders.
A wall that’s sporting a dark tweed jacket and a dark tie.
And that dark wall is moving toward me.
It’s coming, barreling closer, and my eyes jerk up.
Only to clash with another dark thing: his eyes.
Not only dark in color but also of dark intentions.
Angry and dangerous intentions.
So much so that my skin starts to heat up. It starts to sweat and burn.
And then I move back.
As if that will stop him from charging over.
It won’t.
I don’t think anything can stop it or him.
But even so, I retreat. I go back because holy God, how is he here?
How the fuck is he here?
In this bar.
But more than that, how is he here for me?
How is he single-mindedly hurtling toward me like he knew I’d be here?
Just as my spine crashes with the same wall I’ve been standing against, he reaches me.
He stands a few feet away, like a tower, tall and broad, blocking the entire bar behind him, darkening this corner even more.
Both with his body and the look on his face.
He even mutes all the sounds around him.
“I’m… What…”
A ripple goes through his features, tightening them up, making them even more severe than they were. “Where are your glasses?”
His voice, even though quiet, is like a gunshot, making me flinch.
And also blink.
Because of his odd question. But in the face of his absolute wrath, I answer immediately, “I-I’m wearing lenses.”
My answer angers him further and I swear he mashes his teeth together before he asks, “Why?”
“Because I’m… I…”
He takes a step toward me, or at least it feels like it.
Because the corner grows darker, smaller, claustrophobic. The only reason my lungs aren’t starving is because the air around us is filled with his scent of leather and cigar, and my body can’t breathe it in fast enough.
I can’t eat up his scent fast enough.
“Because what?” he asks, his voice low and threatening.
“Because of him,” I blurt out. “Because I wanted to impress him.”
It’s the truth.
I wanted to impress Jimmy.
At my answer, he, my guardian, grows darker. His very skin grows more dusky and flushed.
“Because of him.”
I fist my skirt. “Yes.”