Hey, Mister Marshall (St. Mary's Rebels 4)

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

There’s something here, he said. We could be something.

He has waited enough for me.

Oh my fucking God.

This is all very surreal. This is all very dream-like.

This is exactly what I wanted.

Exactly.

How is this even possible? How is this even happening?

“Hey, Jimmy.”

At the voice, feminine and soft, I wince.

And look to the left. Where the voice came from.

A girl — a few years older than us — with blonde hair and pretty features is standing a few feet away, looking at Jimmy. Who steps back from me, taking his arms away and turning toward her.

“Hey,” he greets her, and she approaches him with a pleased smile.

Immediately, I know that she’s like me. That she loves him.

Or at the very least, is strongly infatuated with him.

She has that look, the kind that I get when I glance at Jimmy. A look of wonder and awe. And all the happiness, the lightness that I’ve been feeling for the past however many minutes, starts to evaporate.

It evaporates completely when she puts her hand on his arm and says, “Great set tonight. You absolutely killed it.”

Grinning, Jimmy bends down to hug her. “Thanks, E.”

‘E’ turns to me then. “Who’s your little friend?” Then with a little condescension, “Nice glasses by the way.”

Nice glasses?

Seriously? She doesn’t even know me and she’s being catty.

I try to school my features though. I try not to show how her proximity to the boy I love is making me feel. Especially when Jimmy is smiling at me with such happiness.

“This is Poe,” he tells her, pointing toward me. “Remember I told you about her? I said I want her on the tour with me. The girl who got away.” Despite my jealousy, I blush at his words and he continues, “And this is Erica. Our tour manager. She’s the one who discovered us, back in New York. She helped us get signed and she’ll be going on tour with us.”

Tour manager.

Her?

In my experience, tour managers are supposed to be obnoxious middle-aged men. They keep a tight leash on everything. And they don’t touch the talent because it’s against the company rules.

So why is this Erica touching him?

And how can I make her not do that?

My nails are on the verge of breaking skin with how tight my fists are clenched at my sides as I smile and say, “Uh, tour manager. That’s wonderful.”

My words get Erica’s attention and she comes back to focus on me, but her eyes depict a shrewdness that wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “Yup. I’ll be there every step of the way. Jimmy is amazing.” She turns to Jimmy for a second, who’s looking at her like she holds the secret to all the questions he’s ever asked. “He’s going to be a star. And this tour is only the beginning.”

“It is,” I say, sort of urgently and loudly, so Jimmy focuses on me, which he does. So I smile at him and continue, “I always knew that. He’s amazing.”

His blue eyes — now clear after our intense talk — soften and a private look passes between us, putting a balm to my jealousy.

“So I hear you’ve known Jimmy for quite a while,” Erica says.

I shift my gaze to her. “I have. Three years now.”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know.” I lift my chin and before I think better, I continue, “And I plan to make that a very long time in the future.”

Yes. Take that, Erica.

I’m here to stay.

Her eyes narrow slightly but her smile stays in place. “Well in that case, I hope you can join us on tour. It should be fun.”

I open my mouth to respond but she looks away and focuses on the guy I love. “Can I borrow you for a second? There are people I’d like you to meet.”

“Yeah, just a sec,” he says and Erica leaves with a nod.

Then it’s just me and him.

“Jimmy, I —”

“No, don’t answer yet,” he says, reaching up and putting his hand on my cheek. He caresses my skin, my jaw, going super close to my lips. Which is where his brilliant blue eyes drop as he whispers, “Just think about it, okay? You and me.”

Somehow I manage to nod.

With one last swipe of his thumb that comes very, very close to my lips, he lets me go and walks away.

As soon as he does, my own hand comes up and I touch the spot he was touching. I trace my jaw, the side of my lips as I watch him up ahead, meeting up with Erica in the crowd. Erica rubs her cheek on his muscular shoulder, and winds her arm around his waist.

And I know I don’t have to think about it.

I know what my answer is.

Yes.

It’s yes. A thousand times yes.

I’m going on that tour with him.