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He chuckles. “Eh, maybe you should stick to bass.”
“Jerk,” I reply, still laughing.
Reaching up, he pulls a piece of my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. It calms the laughter but keeps the smile in place. Leaning closer, his eyes stay on mine, before looking down at my lips.
I shouldn’t want to kiss him, but I do. He doesn’t want anything from me like Bret, except being close to me. I don’t remember the last time Bret made me feel like I was his girlfriend and not someone who could help his career.
Lifting my hand, I feel the slight stubble across his face. His nose grazes mine, and he almost kisses me but holds back. Or do I hold back from him? I want to feel his lips, but I know I shouldn’t. At least, not yet.
Before either of us can do anything, a timer starts beeping. His gaze breaks away from mine, looking over my shoulder. “Pizza’s ready.”
He gets up from the couch, and I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure.
What am I doing? How could I be feeling about Austin like this?But I do. In the short time I’ve known him he’s been more comforting and warmer than I can remember Bret being. And he hasn’t asked me for anything. Well, except what I want to eat. Twice. The thought makes me giggle to myself. I don’t remember the last time I was even offered to be taken out on a date. Lunch. A sandwich from a gas station while at a gig.
“Pizza time,” Austin says, interrupting my reverie as he sets the pizza down on the table, already sliced.
“Sounds great.”
After reclaiming his seat next to me, he reaches over and places a slice on a paper plate, handing it to me. Grabbing his own slice, he leans back. “Can I ask you something?”
I don’t know what he’s going to say, and I’m honestly a little nervous. “Okay.”
He pauses, staring at his plate. For a moment, I think it’s going to be some bombshell request, but it’s not. “Why straight edge?”
Another smile crosses my lips because he wants to know more about me. No one, not even EJ, ever asked me this. They all just took it as me picking something up for unknown reasons. I would’ve told them, but they never asked.
“What?” he asks, seeing my grin.
“No one’s asked me that before.”
“Really?”
“Well, no, they have. Magazines and websites have asked, but I always give a cliché reason of being in a band, and it’s better to stay focused or whatever. I didn’t want to give the real reason to them, and friends and stuff always kind of just went with it, never asking.”
“Oh.” He glances back at the pizza in front of us. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me. I probably shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay. I want to.” His smile turns to a more natural, warm one. Lifting my shoulders, I stare at my own slice of pizza. “It’s because of my brother.” Glancing up, his expression turns serious. “One night, just before Teen Icons came out, we were at a concert. I’d drunk a little here and there with the guys, but that night …”
I stare at the plate in my hands, remembering that night. Austin must sense my mood shift. He reaches over, taking my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, no.” I shake my head. “It’s silly, really. It’s not like someone died or anything.”
He lifts his shoulders. I find his eyes, and once again, I’m calmed. “No one has to die for it to be serious.”
“I love Maddox,” I begin again. “And he hasn’t stopped partying and everything. That’s Maddox. He likes having fun. And I’ve grown used to it, but that night … It was bad. We were all freaking out, Derrik and EJ, too. Maddox passed out, then got sick all over himself. We were going to call Peter, our manager, but Maddox came to for a little bit and begged us not to. He promised he’d never let it get that bad after that, and he hasn’t. Yeah, he still likes partying, but nothing like that night has ever happened again. It scared me. After I saw that, I swore I was never gonna drink again. I don’t know, I was probably overreacting, but—”
“No.” He shakes his head, keeping his hand over mine. “It’s part of you. It shaped you. And you’ve stuck by it, Jade. That’s incredible. Some people might’ve decided something like that but forgot about it the next weekend.”
My smile stays locked in place, and I have to bite my lip to keep it from overtaking my entire face. If I didn’t want to kiss him before—I did—I doubly want to now.
He clears his throat, finally taking his hand off of mine, grabbing the remote. “Anyway, um, what are we watching?”
I take a bite of my pizza, hoping to calm all the nerves in my stomach. “Do you like The Office?”
“Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica,” he replies, making us both laugh.
