Dirty had returnedhome from that first bus tour more or less in onepiece.
Jesse’s ego seemed a little bigger, maybe. Zane was louder, if that was possible. Dylan was hotter, Elle had turquoise streaks in her platinum-blonde hair and Seth was… sketchier. He looked thinner and pretty baked when I sawhim.
And as soon as they were back in town, Jessa vanished. Suddenly she was back hanging out with Seth ’til all hours of the night, going to parties and getting high and probably screwing his brainsout.
The band was back in town for six days before I sawJude.
I tried to run into him, dropping by the rehearsal space pretending I was looking for Jessa. That kind ofthing.
Noluck.
But then I found out there was going to be a party for Dirty, a family barbecue, at Dylan’s place. He still lived with his parents and two of his sisters and I’d never been to his house, but Jessa promised I could come to the party with her. She was so distracted all the time, she probably had no idea why I was so eager togo.
It wasn’t like I told her that I’d spent the last seven months basically pining over Jude Grayson and stalking him on Facebook. He had an account but he never posted anything, so that was kind of a dead end. But Dirty had a band page, which Brody mostly managed, and often there were photos posted from gigs, sometimes backstage, and sometimes Jude was inthem.
And when I looked at those photos, which I did a lot… Iknew.
I knew I’d fallenhardforJude.
I messaged him, sometimes, sending him stupid little random thoughts and photos of me and Jessa and asking how the tour was going. He always answered,eventually.
But he never messaged mefirst.
I had no idea how front-of-mind I was with him, and yet he’d totally taken over my thoughts. I didn’t even see anyone else while he was away. I didn’t go on a single date. I barely flirted with anyone. I just didn’t care about anyoneelse.
I wantedhim.
It was kinda like I was a virgin all over again, and I was saving myself for him. I just wanted him to be theone.
The onlyone.
I’d never felt that way before. Not about any guy I’d ever been with, or wanted to be with. Not about Piper, even when I’d weaved all kinds of fantasies about the two of us getting together and chased him for ayear.
OnlyJude.
When Jessa and I arrived at Dylan’s party, I hoped like hell for only three things. One, that Jude was there. Two, that he wasn’t there with some other girl. And three, that he wanted to seeme.
I figured I could take the rest fromthere.
But when I got there, I didn’t see him. Maybe because the house and the yard were overrun with people—Dylan’s extended family, which turned out to be huge, the band and all kinds of people who knew the band. I saw some familiar faces and talked to a few people, keeping an eye out for Jude while I sipped my drink—a stupid fruit punch, of all things, which had been put out for the “kids” and Jesse had poured for both Jessa and me. She was seventeen, I was eighteen, and the legal drinking age was nineteen, butreally.
“You know,” I told her, “your big brother the rock star really needs to loosen the hellup.”
“Don’tlet him hear you say that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s not a rock staryet.”
Then a pair of hands came down on my shoulders. Gently. A man’s hands, big and warm, fingers curling intome.
“Bratface,” Jude said, right behind me, in that low, rugged voice of his, and shivers prickled down my spine… and right between mylegs.
Jessa rolled her eyes again; she’d been really crabby lately. “Jude.”
“Dolly’s here,” he said. “She’s lookin’ for you.” I sucked in a breath; his hands were still on myshoulders.
Jessa’s “bratface” softened. “I’ll go findher.”
She took off, leaving me alone with Jude and my cup of fruit punch. Which, as I turned to face him, spilled all overhim.
It wasn’t totally my fault. His hands dropped from my shoulders as I turned, he probably didn’t know I had the cup in my hand, and there was an awkward mid-air collision of his knuckles and my cup… which resulted in punch all down the front of hisshirt.
