Jude has a girlfriend.
“Why?” I whispered.
He caught his bottom lip between his teeth when he turned his head to answer me, and my heart came close to exploding. I had to cross my legs just to relieve the heaviness growing between them.
“Had to see if I imagined you, if you were like I remembered.”
“You didn’t imagine me.”
“I kinda think I did, ’cause in my head, you were only half as beautiful as you really are.”
“You’re a shitty boyfriend.”
His mouth curved into a mirthless smile. “Not always, just lately.”
This boy—thisman—wasn’t for me. Even if he didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d steer clear of him. I’d been to enough shows, hung out with enough musicians, to know they were a one-way ticket to heartbreak with a side of volatility thrown in—not something I’d ever willingly sign up for. So instead of indulging in any more flirtation, which wasn’t at all harmless, I pulled my shirt back on and closed my eyes, tuning out the rocker beside me completely.
Almost.