Lead (Stage Dive, #3)(8)



“Hold still,” I said, and embarked upon my first ever sponge bath. Basically, I scrubbed at him like a mad woman. I even washed behind his ears in my fervor.

“Christ,” he mumbled, ducking to try and escape me.

“Keep still.”

Next came his neck, then his shoulders. I wet the cloth again and moved onto his chest and back, rushing through the process. It was best not to think, just to see him as Jimmy, my boss. Better yet, the body beneath my hands was stone, not real in the least, despite the goose flesh erupting all over him. Base desires didn’t matter when a job was at stake, surging hormones and emotions both could take a back seat. I could do this.

“Okay. Shirt.” I picked up the thick rich cotton and held it open for him. He threaded his arms through, smooth skin brushing against the back of my fingers making tingles run up my arm. I fumbled my way through doing up the buttons. “We need cufflinks. And I don’t know how to do the tie.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Okay.” I passed him the neat strip of black silk. All good, I just needed some air, the colder the better.

Jimmy stepped around me, walking back into the bedroom. From the top of his dresser he collected a pair of silver cufflinks and secured them to the sleeves of his shirt. Actually, they were probably platinum, knowing him. I could see tattoos peeking out from beneath the cuffs of his shirt and above the collar of his neck. There could be no disguising him as anything other than the rock star he was. He hadn’t been made to hide or blend, the man was much too beautiful for that.

“Do you need anything else?” I asked, following him like a little lost puppy. My toes stretched and strained while my hands hung limp at my sides. No way did he need to know he’d made me jittery.

“I’m good.” Socks and shoes waited at the end of the bed. He sat down, getting busy. His suit jacket hung over the back of a chair, a long black woolen coat folded atop it. We were fine, everything set.

“You’ve got your speech?” I asked.

The frown increased. “Yeah. It’s in my pocket.”

“Great. I just need to get my bag and jacket.”

His chin jerked and his gaze skittered over me. “You look nice, by the way.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“Just stating a fact. You look good.” He turned away.

I, however, didn’t move. At first I was stunned at the compliment, but then for some reason, leaving Jimmy alone didn’t feel right. It niggled. What if he got upset again and I wasn’t here to talk him down? His sobriety was too important to risk.

Lips fine, he studied the slowly drying patch on the front of my blouse. “You definitely won’t tell anyone?”

“No. Never.”

The air hissed out between his teeth and his expression calmed. “Okay …”

I nodded, giving him a small smile.

“Listen, Lena?”

“Hmm?”

He turned away. “There’s nothing in here, no pills or booze. I haven’t scored. I’ll do a spit test if you need it, and you can search the room…”

“No, I know,” I said, perplexed. “If there was, you wouldn’t have wanted me to get you something and we’d currently be having an entirely different conversation. Either that or you’d be back in rehab and I’d be out of a job.”

“True.”

Neither of us said anything for a moment. I crossed my arms over my chest, my face stiff, tight with tension.

“You can leave me on my own,” he said. “It’s fine, go get your stuff. Do whatever so we can leave.”

“Right!” One of those false embarrassed little laughs startled out of me. Crap. I’d completely forgotten. “Yes, okay. I’ll get my stuff.”

“Great.” He pushed a hand through his hair the same as he’d done maybe a dozen times a day since I’d come to work for him. It was nothing new. Immediately, however, my heart did the drop-and-squeeze thing again.

No. NO.

It couldn’t be connected to him, I refused to believe it.

“Are you going?” His face skewed with annoyance and thank God for that. His open irritation relieved me no end, we were back to normal.

“Yes, Jimmy. I’m going.”

“Now?”

“Right now.” I strode out, slamming the bedroom door shut behind me.

I did not have feelings for Jimmy Ferris. What a ridiculous thought. He was a former addict. And while I admired and respected him for taking charge of his life and fighting that battle, I did not need to get involved with someone who’d barely been dry half a year. Also, Jimmy was not a particularly nice guy the bulk of the time. A general lack of interest in, and consideration for, everyone else inhabiting the planet was his go-to setting.

But worst of all, the man was my boss.

I didn’t have feelings for him. I couldn’t, no way. I’d fallen for unsuitable, unstable, and outright criminal *s in the past, but I was done with that. Especially the * and unstable portion. There’s no way I had feelings for him. I’d really grown as a person and shit, right?

I slumped against the nearest wall. “Fuck.”

I took a deep breath, focused on the funeral.

Things would get better.




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