After some mild protests on her part, Jessa finally agreed to stay, and over the course of dinner I discovered that Jessa Mayes was not only gorgeous, but sweet, smart, and charming. She might’ve been born with Jesse’s dark hair, but she now had honey-blond highlights, which set off her slight California tan. She had Jesse’s dark eyes and his full lips, and sometimes, his hearty laugh.
There wasn’t a thing about her not to like.
Somehow, by the end of dinner I’d convinced her to come to the club with us afterward, to see Zane’s band. I could tell Jesse was happy she was coming, though it felt like the entire evening the two of them were in some kind of unspoken argument right in front of me; about what, I had no idea. Every time I caught Jesse’s eye, the corner of his mouth curled in a slight smile or he’d wink or squeeze my hand, reassuring me that everything was fine. But it didn’t feel fine.
It felt far from fine.
I didn’t know Jessa to be able to read her, but there was tension in the air. She smiled at me a lot and even seemed to be getting pumped for the show in the ride over to the club, but I didn’t fully buy it.
It seemed to me that for such a beautiful woman, Jessa Mayes was missing a spark.
I doubted many people would notice it. She wassopretty that I’m sure a lot of people, especially men, only got that far. But if you looked beyond that, it was there. A kind of flatness in her dark eyes. Something closed off or broken down, meant to keep you the hell out.
I was sure Jesse knew it was there. I was pretty sure, by the time we got to the club and Jude led us in through the back door, that it was the reason for Jesse’s unease.
But I didn’t want to pry and I didn’t want to ruin this night. If they wanted to pretend everything was cool when it so obviously wasn’t, I’d play along. The truth was, I didn’t even care to be at the show; I would’ve much rather gone back to the hotel with Jesse so maybe he’d tell me what the fuck was going on over a beer.
Then we walked into the venue and I actually heard the band.
Judging by the frenzy of the crowd, Wet Blanket was deep into their set. I had no idea how the walls were still standing, because the whole club felt like it was about to blow apart at the seams. The band was rocking out, hard, just reaching the climax of The Kinks’Lola, Zane’s powerful voice belting out the twisted, sexy lyrics.
Okay. Maybe this was just what I needed.
I let out a deep breathe, releasing a lot of the built-up tension from the day.
As Jessa followed Jude through the crowded hallway into the VIP area, she reached back and took my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. She flashed me a dazzling smile, so like her brother’s it made me grin. I glanced back at Jesse and took his hand, the three of us forming a chain as a fleet of bouncers filtered us through the crowd.
The VIP area was a raised area at the back of the room like a stage of its own, closed off with velvet rope and a wall of well-built men. Inside were Raf, Letty, Pepper and their wives, Dylan and his friend Ash, and a bunch of other people I knew or at least recognized from Jesse’s crew and various other events we’d been to along the tour. I knew almost everyone here.
It was a far cry from where I began at the beginning of the tour in my first VIP room with Jesse, where I knew hardly a soul.
I liked it. It kind of felt like coming home.
Dylan and Ash gave me a welcoming hug, but they really flipped their shit over Jessa. I got the feeling she didn’t show her face often; everyone was pumped to see her and drinks were shoved our way. Jessa kept hold of my hand half the time and we ended up sharing a love seat vacated for us. Jesse squeezed in next to me. He looked happy, glad to be there with me, I think, but also really proud to be there with his sister. I felt like I had the seat of honor, sitting right there between them.
Happy birthday to me.
As I watched the band, I got goose bumps. Zane’s stage presence was off the charts. His blond hair was shaved almost completely off at the sides, the top grown out like a really long mohawk that refused to stay up and fell over his eye. He wore loose, super low-slung jeans that showed off the V of his groin, and an incredibly small leather vest that was dead sexy. His lean, tight abs were on full display, his chest slick with sweat, his nipple piercing sparking as it caught in the light. He’d also grown a blond beard and he looked pretty much like what I imagined the devil himself would look like, if the devil climbed on up out of hell to rock out, bent on corrupting the souls of a fuckload of women in the process.
He had every woman in the crowd, not to mention most of the men, dangling, hearts in throats and fists in the air, devouring his every move, every word. I’d never seen him rock out live. I’d only seen him on stage when he and Jesse played together at the VIP show in Vancouver, which was totally different. Unplugged. Chill. And Zane was clearly trying not to upstage Jesse since it was his show.
This was full-on Zane, and I could see why he was Dirty’s frontman. Jesse could own a stage. Zane owned the whole fucking place.
I’d pretty much died and gone to rock ’n’ roll heaven.
All Wet Blanket played, all night long, were covers. Sizzling hot, kick-ass covers, mostly of classic rock songs, which spoke to my heart and gave me a total lady boner. Though I wasn’t the only woman in the crowd getting off on the show. When Zane announced they were down to their last few songs of the night, there was a backlash of screams. You’d think they’d just announced they were going to mass-murder the audience.
Then the band kicked into the hardest, hottest version of AC/DC’sGirls Got RhythmI’d ever heard, and all was forgiven. The entire club throbbed with it. The floor shook. I was pretty sure sweat was rolling down the walls. When they rocked out the final chords, I leaned over to Jesse and said, “If it weren’t for our deal and the two hundred grand on the line, I’d say you’ve got competition, sweetie.”
His eyes narrowed at that, but crinkled with amusement at the corners.
“Fucking Zane,” he said.
At that moment, fucking Zane started talking into the mic.
“Recently one of my best friends fell in love.” He looked straight to the back of the room, to the love seat where Jesse sat next to me, and pointed straight at him. “Welcome to the motherfucking show, brother.”
Jesse lifted his drink in salute. At this, there were a bunch of hoots and whistles, and a couple of women on the dance floor screamed, “I love you, Jesse!”
