“Um… good. Maybe wecantalk?”
He glared at me, but at least he was looking me in the eye. “What’s to talk about? You think I’m gonna sit around with my dick in my hand watching you hook up with someone else, you’re wrong. Been there, done that. Not interested. So if you’re trolling for cock, you can do it somewhere thefuckelse.”
“Trollingfor…?”
“Just do me a favor,” he said, his voice dead-cold, “and do it somewhere other than in my fucking face, with my fuckingfriends.”
“What the hell are you talkingabout?”
“Jimmy,” he said. “Or Snake. Or any of the other guys you’ve been flirting with all night, or whoever the fuck else you want. Take yourfuckingpick.”
“Snake?” I shook my head in disbelief. He actually thought I was trying to hook up, again—with anyone and everyone—to make him jealous? What kind of uberslut did he think I was? “You’re such an asshole, youknowthat?”
“Get fucked,Jessa.”
I took astepback.
With that sweet little sign-off, I expected him to walk out, but he just stood there staringmedown.
“Would you please stop tellingmeoff?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscular biceps and forearms bulge. He was wearing a thin, distressed T-shirt, and I could see everything through it. His hard nipples, his distracting pecs, his trimwaist.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d figured out how to use theirassets.
“Stop telling me you’re gonna leave,”hesaid.
“Ididn’t.”
“It wasimplied.”
Oh my God.Had there ever been a more frustrating ass of a man on the face of theplanet?
And I had to have the crazies overthisone?
“Don’t you have any faith in me? Likeatall?”
“Depends if you’re telling me you’re gonna leave or not,”hesaid.
“You made it pretty clear you want me toleave.”
His glare turned from icy to arctic. “Is that whatIsaid?”
“You said you’re done with me, and honestly?” I threw up my hands in surrender. “I can’t really blame you for that.” So much for sexing him into submission. Maybe on this one I’d just have to admitdefeat.
“The band made you an offer,” he said. “You gonnatakeit?”
I blinked at him, jolted by his switch into business mode. “No,” I said. “I’mnot.”
“That becauseofme?”
“It’s because it’s not the right fit for me, or for the band. And you, of all people, mustknowthat.”
He took a few steps toward me, closing the space between us. “If you and I work our shit out, you gonna change your mindaboutthat?”
“About being Dirty’s rhythmguitarist?”
“Yeah.”
