Thomas & January (Sleepless 2)

“So awesome. Thank you, Jason. I’m stoked.”

I shook Jason’s hand excitedly and told him I’d see him in New York in two weeks. I didn’t even acknowledge Tom, turned and headed for the stage and let the crowd swallow me up, but somehow I felt Tom’s stare, heavy and hot on the back of my neck and I clenched my hands.

Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.

I turned around and there he stood, his eyes practically undressing me and I shivered from his hard stare. What do you want me from me? I begged him silently. I wanted him, this stranger, to want me as badly as I wanted him. I wanted him to part the crowd around me, scoop me up and drag me back to his car. I wanted his hands on my neck, my hair, my back, my body. I wanted his lips on mine. I wanted him with a fierceness I didn’t find ladylike. I also wanted to sock him in the throat. What is happening to me!

His labored breath was visible from the twenty feet away I stood from him and when he was done perusing my body, he turned away in obvious disgust. Gah! My body shivered in reaction to his scrutiny. Even his stare set me on fire. What is wrong with me?

I shook my head and turned to meet The Belle Jar backstage. It didn’t matter. In two weeks, I’d be living in Jersey with Grandma Betty and commuting back and forth to the city that never sleeps and as far away from this guy as I could get.

New York City, here I come.

Chapter Two

Something You Misplaced

Six months later....

Thomas

Jason signed The Belle Jar almost immediately which made me unusually happy, but that wasn’t because I felt guilty about screwing over their friend, January. No, it was because they were a genuinely talented band and they were going to make the label millions, therefore making me indispensable. It wasn’t because I thought about the kiss I’d shared with January more than I thought about Kelly lately or that I found January to be the hottest chick I’d ever seen. No, it was for the band. The band.

Even if I was into January, which I’m not saying I was, because she was a virtual stranger, she was over seventeen-hundred miles away in New York City, ironically trading places with the old me it seemed. Jason talked about her nonstop, which made me extraordinarily uncomfortable. He teased me incessantly about how she turned me down and about how she blew through the label like a perfumed tornado when she arrived, impressing everyone and solidifying her as a label necessity. Oh, and that apparently she was dating the guy who delivered everyone’s mail? Seriously, January? That guy doesn’t even shower!

A year into Austin, Jason rung me to tell me to pack my bags. The Belle Jar’s debut CD, Pick Your Poison, Miss Smith went platinum and the label was throwing a party. Also, he said I wouldn’t be coming back to Austin. Supposedly, I’d impressed Seven with my recent picks lately and they were sending me overseas. Dude, I was incredibly pumped and couldn’t believe my luck. It was a dream come true for me. Now, if I can just endure Kelly’s presence, just long enough to hop a plane over the Big Blue and leave her memory behind. Yeah, you’re running from Kelly, dude. Kelly.

nly, his eyes shot open in realization. He broke it abruptly, pushed me away lightly and set me right on my feet. I felt bereft of something but didn’t know what that something was. I didn’t know this guy, didn’t know his name, yet it didn’t scare me or make me feel ashamed in any way. It felt right, so very right.

We both stared at the other deeply, panting from the exertion of our unbelievable kiss. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it, breathing deeper through my nose to control my nerves. Nobody had ever made me feel the way this stranger did. He was like electric fire on my skin. I needed to know his name but the silence between us seemed impenetrable, neither of us wanting to break the charged calm that separated us.

Unexpectedly, his eyes became hard, his stare admitting…disgust? His jaw clenched harshly. He turned and walked away from me into the crowd, leaving me alone with myself, alone with my thoughts. My eyes began to water as the final comprehension of what I’d just done washed over me in shameful realization. I blinked and a single tear came cascading down my cheek. I wiped it away just as I looked back up toward the stage, Casey’s face held an expression of concern, but I smiled at him just as I signaled to the bassist to begin his new entrance. Perfect timing, I thought absently.

I was no longer interested in seeing the rest of the set nor willing to endure Circumvent’s. I didn’t want to wait for the guy Jason from the bar either. I wanted out of there. I was humiliated and shunned and an idiot. Self-inflicted bad decisions seemed to be at the top of my list that day. I shoved my way through the crowd and finally broke free at the back on the verge of a sob. I went left into the bar just as someone grabbed the back of my shirt. I tried to ignore it, but the person insisted I turn around, so I did, ready to give them a few choice words but discovered the guy from the bar standing in front of me.

“I told you to stick around,” he said in a friendly tone.

“I know but I’ve gotta jet. Something’s come up,” I said vaguely, tensing my expression to avoid shedding the tears that wanted so badly to come flooding at that moment.

“No, you’re staying,” he said, ignoring me and offering his arm. I opened my mouth to tell him to screw off, but he gave me a look that shut me up. “Trust me, January,” he whispered kindly. “You are not going to want to miss this.”

“Fine,” I said, a little peeved but more sad than anything. I took his arm and we worked our way to the edge of the crowd as The Belle Jar’s set came to an end. The crowd went berserk. “Told you,” I said to Jason.

“You’re right. They were different and talented.”

“I know.”

“But I want to see Circumvent now. I want to confirm what you’ve said.”

“Why?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in suspicion.

Jason’s eyes lit up when he noticed someone behind me. “Ah, there you are,” he said, physically turning me around to meet whomever he was talking to. My stomach dropped when I saw who he meant for me to meet. The scout from Seven. The asshole I kissed (who kissed me back!) and left me in the middle of a crowd. “January, this is Tom. Tom, this is the girl I was telling you about.”

Tom’s eyes grew sarcastic, his mouth tilted to one side. “You move fast, little girl.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “Excuse me?”

All earlier sensations of sadness left me in a whoosh and replaced with anger. I could work with anger.