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My eyes itched though I wouldn’t be crying. Stunned seemed the top response. I just … I couldn’t believe he’d walked straight out on me after such magnificent sex. I hadn’t clung to him, demanding a ring. There’d been no discussion of babies. All casual sex etiquette had been adhered to.
Like I could help how I looked at him.
I kicked my feet, the clunky med boot swinging back and forth below. There was no sign of him on the back patio. Fuck knew where he’d gone.
“You could have at least helped me get down, you ass**le,” I yelled, despite him being well out of hearing. “Mal was right, you do no aftercare.”
Worst post-coital ever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next day the guys were back in the studio. It was a long day of all action stations, or as much action as I was capable of with the boot on. Ev took over the better part of the running around. Jimmy had made himself conspicuously absent the day after our fevered mating on the kitchen table. Whatever part of the house I was in, he was in the farthest point possible away, f**k him very much.
Like sex had been my bright idea.
Today, however, he’d apparently gotten over the episode and had been ready to resume life as per usual. Yeah, right, as if it would so simple after the way he’d behaved.
I ignored him in the morning. I ignored him in the afternoon.
I ignored him upstairs and downstairs too.
Apparently, he did not like this because much scowling ensued. I sure as hell didn’t ask him for help with the stairs. With my boot, I could totter around well enough, slow and cumbersome as it was. Stupid Jimmy Ferris and his amazing mouth and penis. Who needed him? Not me, I could look after myself.
That’s why god invented vibrators, thank you very much. Masturbation was so much safer. My fingers never gave me this sort of trouble.
Yes, sometime in the past twenty-four hours, cold war had descended. A woman scorned and all that, or a woman denied further access to his dick. Either worked. If I’d been paying him any attention, I’d have seen him giving me odd looks all morning. But since he wasn’t even on my radar, it went unnoticed. Mostly. Yep, I was so done with him I didn’t even see him approaching once again out of the corner of my eye.
“Lena.”
I did not reply.
“Here.”
A parcel was shoved beneath my nose.
Ev and I had been sitting doing some work in the lovely comfortable chairs I’d had delivered for outside the recording studio. A brilliant turquoise blue, f**k him very much. Sitting on the stairs got old after a while and I had access to his credit cards so why not? I’d made another purchase yesterday afternoon he didn’t know about yet.
But let’s not go into that.
The interview with his mother had stirred things right up. With the paparazzi now out in force, camped out front, and the phone ringing off the hook, it hadn’t been the greatest day in many ways. Jimmy had all the reasons to be stomping around all uptight and unhappy. I’d switched the phone to silent and concentrated on working my way through the latest buildup of emails. Earlier, I’d made the mistake of answering the door and been bombarded with cameras. They yelled questions at me, pushing and shoving so hard my heart raced, claustrophobia closing in. A couple of security guys had rushed in, driving them back, and helping me get the door closed. Last time I’d make that error. Within half an hour the shot of me looking startled with shitty hair was all over the Internet. An hour after that my mom phoned wanting to know if I was all right. And I was fine, just in need of some Photoshopping. It seemed a good enough time to distract her of the story of my sprained ankle. Only in this version, I’d accidentally tripped on a step. Yes, lying is a bad, bad thing. But no matter my age, I couldn’t admit to my mom I’d tried to kick a guy’s door down. It did momentarily delay her grilling me about my attendance at my sister’s wedding, however. A blessing.
At any rate, I doubted they were getting a great amount of work done inside the recording studio. Everyone seemed distracted, acting either unnaturally chirpy or seriously subdued. Mal had just pounded on his drums for a while and everyone had left him to it. But it was nice they’d gathered around for Jimmy’s sake. I’d have been a bastion of strength and support too had he not insulted me and then abandoned me in the kitchen the day before. For the sake of the shit he was going through, I wanted to be all sweetness and light. Then I remembered him walking out on me not two minutes after having him inside me. He hadn’t yet said sorry. Therefore, I could not yet forgive.
I’d spent some of the day in the studio taking photographs of everyone (except for Jimmy) with Pam’s camera. Everyone loved the photos and Pam gave me lots of encouragement and helpful hints. She said some of them might even make it into the artwork for the next album.
Mine and Jimmy’s falling-out hadn’t been missed by a soul, certainly not Ev. She’d tried to broach the subject of her brother-in-law with me. I’d given her a grim smile and continued discussing logistics for the upcoming tour. Whatever was or wasn’t going on between Jimmy and I was our own business.
I still didn’t talk to him on account of cold war protocol.
“Lena, C’mon, take it,” he said.
My hands stayed attached to my iPad.
He sighed. “Ev, will you tell her to take the f**king thing?”
“Jimmy, I know you are not dragging me into this fight with Lena because that would be wrong.” With a steely smile, Ev crossed her legs. “Wouldn’t it?”
Much muttered swearing.
“Ooh, pick me! I’ll get dragged into it.” Like the loon that he was, Mal jumped over the back of the grey suede couch and sat beside me. “What would you like me to communicate to Lena for you, Jim?”
“Forget it,” he growled.
The parcel was retracted. Black ribbon and shredded glossy white wrapping paper started raining on my feet. I knew this due to still refusing to look up at him like the adult that I was. A camera was thrust in front of me, but not just any camera.
“Here,” he said again.
“Jimmy said ‘here’,” Mal reported beside me.
My eyes, they bulged. “That’s the same as Pam’s.”
“Lena said ‘that’s the same as Pam’s’,” Mal said.
Jimmy ignored him. “Yeah, a Nikon D4. She said that’s what you’d need if you were thinking of getting serious.”
Mal gave a low whistle. “Smooth move, Jim. I’m impressed. Nice work on the wooing.”