Lead (Stage Dive 3)

His opinion meant so much more to me than it should. The absolute conviction in his voice eased me. It was tempting to throw some of the things Brandon, my ex-boyfriend, had said out there. Let them be heard by someone other than me just for the joy of possibly listening to Jimmy shoot them down. How I was too hard and difficult, detached and unreachable. So he’d reached for my sister instead and bless her lack of sibling loyalties, she’d reached right back.

Screw them both.

But if Jimmy agreed with any of the vitriol my ex had spouted, it would hurt a part of me I wasn’t certain could heal. For all his put-downs, deep inside of him, he seemed to think well of me. I valued that more than words could say.

“Anyway,” I said. “Thank you for opening up to me about when you were using. About a lot of things lately. It’s been good, talking to you more.”

He shrugged. “Talking is supposed to help both of our situations.”

“Does it help you?” I asked.

“No, not really. I’ve accepted responsibility for all the things that I’ve done, and I’ve tried to make amends. Time to move on.” He flicked his hair back. “It helping you?”

I stared at him, transfixed. Love is a convoluted thing really, there is little simplicity to it deep down. It consists of layers of emotions, thoughts, and memories, coalescing into one overwhelming point. The knowledge that one person in this world means more to you than most anything. Sense and reason don’t stand a chance. Sometime-bastard and messed-up man that he was, I adored him, all of him.

“No, it’s not,” I said. “Because your dark parts don’t scare me, Jimmy. They never did.”

“They should.” He licked his lips, holding my gaze all the while.

Good god, his mouth, so beautiful. My stomach went into freefall. In his eyes, it almost seemed there was something real there. A tangible bond or emotion that went beyond our ordinary everyday interactions. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. But as always, it lay just beyond reach.

I turned away first this time, self-protection had to kick in eventually. The doorbell rang and the moment shattered. Probably for the best.

“Remember, you promised not to interfere.” I leapt to my feet.

Sadly, he was faster. “Not gonna interfere, just interested in meeting him.”

“Jimmy—”

“Hey, you must be Reece.” The door stood open and Jimmy’s broad shoulders filled the space. I couldn’t see past him.

“Jimmy Ferris, I take it,” a friendly enough male voice said. They shook hands, then Jimmy stepped back. Reece was average height, lean, and nice looking in a hipster boy way, short dark hair and thick-rimmed glasses.

“Hi, I’m Lena.” I waved.

We looked each other over. First dates and set-ups really were among the most torturous of social endeavors. Whoever had invented them deserved a nice slap upside the head. But Reece’s smile of approval filled his face, it seemed I’d passed the test. Perhaps tonight showed promise after all.

“I’ll just grab my coat,” I said, side stepping back into the living room with all due haste. God knows what Jimmy would say or do left alone with him for long. This date needed to last longer than fifteen minutes. My pride demanded it.

“So, where you taking her, Reece?” My boss’s voice carried through the house just fine.

I grabbed my coat and purse, and rushed back, heels clacking against the marble floor. The inquisition had to be halted at all costs before Jimmy ran him off. “Ready!”

“Thought we might head out to a movie, if that sounds okay with you, Lena?” Reece stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Sounds great! Let’s go.” Already, my cheeks ached from smiling. If I was any perkier I’d need shooting.

Jimmy exhaled gustily and did not smile. “Great. So I’ll expect her back, what … about three, four hours?”

“Ah, sure,” said Reece, brows high.

“Ignore him.” I did up the buttons on my coat with great haste. “Jimmy, I’ll check in with you later. Have a nice night.”

“Drive safe,” he commanded, stern gaze never moving from my date’s now troubled face. “Slow.”

“Always do,” said Reece, taking a few steps down the path, obviously eager to be gone.

I wrestled the door handle from Jimmy’s grasp and pushed at his hard flat stomach. “Go inside, it’s cold.”

He stayed put. There was much angry gazing going on.

“What’s your problem?” I whisper hissed.

“I don’t like the look of him.”

“He looks fine.”

Icy eyes cast me more doubting glances. “No, there’s something about him.”

“Jimmy.”

“It’s the glasses, I don’t trust them. I think he’s trying to hide something.”

“I wear glasses.”

He shrugged and gave me his well-there-you-have-it look. The idiot.

“He is not an axe murderer. He’s a longtime friend of Anne’s,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You promised to behave.”

“But what if—”

“You promised.”

His mouth snapped shut. After one final glare at Reece, he relented, thank god. Few things had ever sounded as sweet as the click of the lock when I closed the front door.

“Okay,” I breathed, giving my date a relieved grin. “We’re good to go.”

“He always like that?”

“No, well … he worries sometimes, I guess.” I didn’t know how to explain the recent emergence of Jimmy’s proprietorial instincts. He didn’t want me, therefore, he really needed to cut the crap.

“Anne told me a bit about you and the situation with Jimmy. How you work for him and all.” Reece shuffled his feet. “I’m really not an axe murderer.”

“Oh, you heard that. Good.”

“No worries.” He returned my inane smile with a laugh. “Let’s get going.”

Reece drove an older model hatchback, and he did indeed drive it slow and careful as directed to one of the movie theaters in town. The man immediately bought a large bucket of popcorn thus endearing himself to me immensely. To enjoy the importance of snacks was no small thing. We wandered through the lobby, checking out the movie posters and advertising paraphernalia. You couldn’t rush deciding which film to sit through. Choose unwisely and you didn’t get those two to three hours of your life back, let alone the money.