Love Struck (Miss Match #2) (32 page)

But against his own better judgment, Eli turned back. “So things are good with you and Lacy?” Dammit, he’d asked. What the hell was wrong with him? It was as if he wanted to feel as bad as possible.

“Yeah, sure.” Jax crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “If you aren’t interested in the girl, then why do you ask?”

Good question, Eli. Why the eff did you ask?
“Just because you’d said you were going for her.”
Yes, that was believable.
“In fact, you made a big deal about it to me, and now you’re spending lots of time together. It seems like it’s working out for you. You don’t get that way about chicks.”

Jax shrugged. “It’s fine. She’s fine.”

What the hell did that mean? Were they happy with each other or not? If they were, then fabulous. Well, not fabulous, but Eli could pretend.

The question nagged at him, so against his better judgment—again—Eli decided not to let the conversation lie. “That doesn’t sound very fine.”

“It’s exactly fine. She’s cool, I’m cool. Am I missing something?”

Eli’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe they weren’t together then. Which changed everything. But of course they were together. He’d seen them kissing. And Lacy was with him nonstop. “I think
I’m
missing something. Are you or are you not with Lacy?”

He practically held his breath while he waited for Jax’s answer.

Jax shifted his hips up so he could pull his phone out of his back pocket. “We’re friends. You know, we hang.”

“And that’s it?”

Jax held his phone up and looked toward the screen.

“Our relationship is evolving organically.” Jax ran a hand through his hair before clicking the phone off and pocketing it again. “I can’t predict where it’s going to end up.”

Eli wanted to be comforted by Jax’s answer, but there was something stopping him. Namely, Lacy. She wanted a relationship with the guy, narcissistic prick that he was. She’d put herself out there for him, and he didn’t seem to give a flying rat’s ass. Despite all signs pointing to Jax evolving for Lacy, confiding in her, letting her be the new Eli. What if that had never been what was happening?

Suddenly Eli feared for Lacy’s emotional well-being. “Shit, Jax. Are you kidding me? I mean,
evolving organically
is great and all, but does she know you’re not actually together?”

Again, that carefree shrug. “I don’t know. I guess so.”

“You
guess
so? You do realize that most girls think there’s a relationship when you have sex with them repeatedly.” Because he was more than certain Jax and Lacy were having sex. “It’s really not cool to string her along.”

“Dude, calm down.” Ironically, Jax’s volume was louder than Eli’s had been, which somehow made his words even more patronizing. He sat up and lowered his tone. “I’m not stringing her along. I haven’t even fucked her.”

“She’s not someone you can just”—Eli halted as Jax’s words hit him—“You haven’t slept with her?” That was … weird.

And a relief.

A huge relief.

But again, weird. Jax wasn’t the type to hang out with girls that he wasn’t sticking it to.

Jax let out a breath, the hair across his forehead bouncing up with the force. “Nah. Like I said, we’re evolving. Taking it slow.”

Just like that, the relief that Eli felt evaporated.

If Jax was taking it slow, it meant Lacy was special to him. Jax never committed to women like that. This was different. Which was good. For Lacy. Still hurt like a bitch. “Then you really do like her.”

Jax threw his hands up as he stood. “I barely even know her.” He took a step toward Eli and put a hand on his shoulder as if confiding in him. “Look, here’s the truth. She’s a sweet girl with an even sweeter rack. She doesn’t bug to hang out with. In fact, she’s a really good listener. She’s a good kisser too. To be honest, though, I was mostly interested in her in the first place simply because you liked her. When she showed interest in me I saw the opportunity to show you that you can’t get everything you want. Like you usually do.”

“What the—” There were way too many things for Eli to react to, that he didn’t know where to start. No, he knew where to start. He wanted Jax’s hand off him. Eli brushed out of his grip. Then he picked one of the myriad crazy comments to address. “I don’t get everything I want. That’s you. You’re the one who gets the girls and the attention. The one everyone concedes to.”

Jax stepped back to lean/sit on the arm of the chair he’d previously occupied. “I have to work for that shit, man. You get it naturally. Without even trying, the songs just
come
to you. And the ideas. All the talent. And I promise you, if I sat quiet in a room, all the girls would flock to you. Even Lacy. Because you’re the real art around here. You’re the real showpiece. You don’t have to worry about what you wear or practice a bunch of witty stories or need to slash your skin to feel like the real deal.”

Eli drew in a sharp breath. Was that why Jax had cut himself? Because he didn’t feel like he was really an artist? The idea spliced through him, a figurative knife cutting at his insides.

He started to say something, though he didn’t know what. Anything to make it better.

Except he hesitated too long and Jax went on. “But guess what. Despite all that? Lacy liked
me
. Liked me when I didn’t even try very hard, and that means enough for me to give her a shot. A shot at a night, anyway. Am I in love with her? No. Am I looking for a thing with her other than friendship? Yeah, I’m hoping for a chance to get in between her thighs, but that’s all. Apparently, Lacy Dawson isn’t the type to jump into bed with the first musician she meets, so it’s going to be the slow seduction with her.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” The sympathy Eli had felt only a moment before was smothered under the irritation surging through his veins, but before he acted on it, he’d be cool and get some clarification. “So you haven’t slept with her because
she
doesn’t want to?”

“She doesn’t want to
yet
.” Jax pointed his finger at the same time as he delivered his last word.

“Meanwhile you’re biding your time.” It wasn’t a question. It was a stalling statement—one that might give Eli enough time to cool down or perhaps redirect Jax into saying something that wasn’t quite so maddening.

Better yet, Eli knew he should use the time to figure out how to focus back on the remarks Jax had made earlier, the ones about not being talented. The ones about cutting himself for attention.

But then Jax said something else. “Yeah, since we’re on the road together, I figure hanging with her is something to kill the boredom.”
Or, maybe even more maddening.
“Don’t worry, I still have other girls. I’m not picking them up from the crowd anymore—that would particularly be poor taste in front of Lacypants—but I’m getting taken care of. In fact”—he looked at the time on his cell phone—“Chelle is meeting with me any minute now. You remember Chelle. From the last time we did Hartford?”

“Jax, you’re an asshole, you know that?” Also, he didn’t remember Chelle, but who could keep up with all the girls Jax had entertained on tours past? The war inside Eli had reached its Gettysburg. Friendship and past with Jax was battling empathy and future with Lacy, and the outcome would be essential.

“Dude, what is your deal? This isn’t anything new on my part. You got a thing for Lacy, don’t you? You said you didn’t, but you totally do.” Jax jabbed a finger into Eli’s arm. “Admit it.”

Eli took a step forward. “The thing I got for Lacy is called respect. Something you’ve got zero of for anyone including your bandmates. You walk all over everyone like our sole purpose is for your own convenience. Your own gain. Your own entertainment. Well, that’s bullshit. I’m better than that. Lacy’s better than that. This whole band is better than that. And I, for one, am done.”

Jax scratched at his chin as he studied Eli. “Ah, I get it. You’re pissed because I changed up ‘Bruises
.
’ You’re so damn precious about your songs. What’s with that? Don’t you know I’m the one who makes them? They’re nothing until I turn them into my own.”

Eli let out an exasperated chortle. “You’re delusional. You ruin those songs. Massacre them from what they’re meant to be. But right now, I couldn’t care less about what you do to my songs. What I care about is what you do to Lacy Dawson. She’s an amazing, wonderful woman who you’re charming simply so you can get in her pants? You deserve her less than you deserve my songs.”

He paused only long enough to make sure his next statement was a declaration—firm and nondebatable. “From now on, my songs are mine. You’ll never have another one to bastardize again. And as for Lacy, you keep your slimy hands off of her.”

“
Your
songs?” The shock evident in the woman’s tone behind him was only surpassed by Eli’s shock at her arrival.

He turned to face her, aware from the tension that radiated from her body and from the order of the things he’d said that she’d heard enough. Heard too much to go back to the lies and the pretending and the distancing. He looked into her horrified face, at her beautiful heartbroken eyes.

He knew his next words would be the door that opened everything.

And still he said them. “Hello, Love.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lacy’s head was spinning, whirling with the conversation she’d just overheard. She’d heard a great deal of it, including the part where Jax was simply biding his time until she welcomed him into her bed. But the part that had really stopped her—the part that made her heart stop beating for a full second, causing the blood to rush through her ears when it finally picked up again—was the inference that Jax didn’t write the Blue Hills songs. Those songs belonged to Eli.

Well, that was the part that had caught her until she was struck on the head with Eli’s greeting. He’d called her Love.

She felt Jax’s arm wrap around her waist. “Hey, baby doll,” he said after kissing her cheek. “Eli and I are just having a little band disagreement.”

“No.” She’d heard the conversation. He’d said he had other girls. Like a woman named Chelle. She pushed out of his arms. “No!”

“Listen, Lacypants, whatever you heard … well, it was taken out of context. Most likely. I never want you to infer I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”

Jax was speaking to her but she had her eyes glued to Eli. “What did you mean by
your songs
?”

Eli sighed, which was definitely not a helpful answer. Lacy crossed her arms over her chest and turned to the other one. “What does he mean, Jax? Do you not write the band’s songs?”

“You know how it is in a band. Lots of collaboration. They’re
our
songs.”

“Who writes the songs, Jax? Who?” It was a really roundabout way of finding out the answer to the question she really wanted cleared up. W
ho the hell is Folx?
Somehow it was more comforting this way. Because if she just came out and asked that one … and then if she got the response that she was beginning to think she was going to get …

She just wasn’t sure she could take it. Yet.

Jax turned her toward him, one of his hands resting on each of her upper arms. “Come on, Lace. Does it really matter to you who writes the songs? Don’t tell me you’re one of those chicks who groupies over the behind-the-scenes guy instead of the front man.”

Lacy stepped back and out of his grasp, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, my God.” She felt like she wanted to throw up. But sort of in a good way. Was that possible?

Jax continued to defend himself. “Plus, I contribute. They aren’t all his words and notes. I’m the one who makes them hits.
Me
. Their soul—that’s me. I give them the—”

His hand moved in front of him, but Lacy put up her own to stop him. “Please, don’t. Not the gut/crotch clutch again. That’s not a Thing, Jax!” Suddenly all of Jax’s egotistical behavior was magnified in her mind. She’d put up with it simply because she knew who he was underneath, but now she was finding out she didn’t really know who he was underneath at all.

And it wasn’t really the revelations about who Jax was or wasn’t that had her stomach flip-flopping like a fish out of water, but what they meant about Eli. She needed one more confirmation. “Just tell me this, Jax—did you cut the chorus of ‘Godric’s Hollow’?”

His proud smile gave him away before he even spoke. “Yeah. I added the audience participation part. Brilliant, right?”

“Oh, my God.” Again, she covered her mouth. This time she didn’t want to throw up so much as squeal. Really a happy sort of squeal, though there would have been some other complex emotions jumbled in as well and she had a feeling she would have sounded more like a dying pig, and that wasn’t what she was going for.

She turned her attention to Eli—the man she should have been looking toward all along. “It’s you.”

Eli’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “It’s me.”

Wow, it was … she was … wow.

Weeks of frustration melted off her like the sunlight finally hitting a patch of winter ice. She’d been trying so hard to make things work with Jax. But the more time she spent with him, the more she missed her online dates.

And Eli …

Oh, how she’d missed Eli. His touch, his smile. His eyes, the way they raked her body as if he were already undressing her. Mostly, though, she missed the way he made her feel about herself. He made her seem important and interesting and the main show, where with Jax she was always only an opening act, a curtain jerker.

But Eli was Folx and everything made sense and none of the rest mattered because she didn’t have to deny the feelings she had about him anymore. Talk about a Plot Twist.

Except, wait … everything didn’t make sense.

Like, why did Eli look so guilty? And why wasn’t he as surprised by the revelation as she was?

She felt a punch to the chest as she realized why. “And you knew. All this time?”

Behind her, Lacy vaguely registered a female voice. “Hey, Jax. I’ve been waiting for you for almost ten minutes.”

And then Jax’s greeting. “Chelle. Glad you found me, babe.”