Haze by Andrea Wolfe (best motivational books for students txt) 📕

I complained, my words as hollow as could be. I actually loved when he looked at me like that.

"I think we should just skip the concert and I'll fuck you in every room of the house. On every piece of furniture too."

I shook my head. "You always talk like that, and then after the second or third time, you're tired out. What about my needs?" I couldn't stop grinning, my sarcasm like a storm.

"I get it," he said. "How many times do I have to make you come before you're happy?"

"I'm an eight to ten kind of girl." I gave him a firm wink.

"I guess I really need to practice, huh?"

I walked toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "You're so terrible, Jack." I kissed his cheek and squeezed his butt playfully. He returned the favor, and was hard seconds after I pressed against him. We both wanted it bad, but we just didn't have the time.

Jack pulled away abruptly, as if he had realized he'd be totally stuck to me if he didn't act soon. "I've got to get dressed."

A few minutes later, he emerged from his room wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of very tight, low-slung jeans. "Is this okay?" he said.

My jaw dropped. He looked like a fucking movie star, like the hottest man who had ever walked the earth. The simplicity of the outfit lent itself to him incredibly well. I instantly imagined a guitar stretched across his body, the women in the audience screaming, begging for a scrap of his attention as he strummed and howled into a microphone. Jack was a paragon of talent and beauty.

I almost passed out.

"You've never looked better." I took a deep breath and retained my composure.

"Hey," he said, "why are you blushing?"

My cheeks had become hot and red, the reason why not entirely clear to me. Maybe it was that I was finally witnessing this other part of his personality, as if I was meeting this Jack for the very first time. As usual, I was smitten nearly to death.

"I don't really know. Are you, uh, n-nervous?" I asked, attempting to change the subject away from my own weakness.

"Never. I used to get nervous, but then I realized my goals don't get accomplished if I don't go on stage. I actually do make mistakes sometimes—and I hide them well." He smiled as he toyed with his hair in the hall mirror. "But this might be my last tour, anyhow. Gotta give it my best."

The thought made me feel melancholy for some reason. I hadn't even seen him perform, and here he was, talking about retirement. It wasn't up to me, though. It never was, and it probably never would be. "You will." I said it ostensibly, but despite my lack of experience and understanding of what he really did, I knew it would turn out to be true.

We both wore boots, joking that we should trade for the evening—and knowing that it would be a genuine disaster if we did. There was no way he could have fit those big feet of his into my tiny boots. His just served to make him even sexier, providing just a hint of cowboy to his already-perfect appearance.

After everything was done, we headed into the limo and got comfortable. Jack's equipment was already at the venue, so he didn't need to bring anything along.

Something already told me that tonight would change my life—but at that point, I wasn't quite sure how.

Chapter 22

There was already a line in front of the venue when we arrived, three hours prior to doors opening. Jack had to do a sound check and an abbreviated final run through. Lexy's name was on the marquee above the venue and Jack grinned when he noticed it.

We pulled up behind the venue, entering from a side door that was off-limits to concert-goers. There was a long alley behind the building, one that was fairly desolate and industrial given the part of town we were in.

Jack left me in the lounge as he readied himself for the night, privy to all sorts of tasty snacks and DIY cocktails. I poured myself a rum and Coke and got comfortable.

The primary A&R person at the label, Karla, showed up shortly after I did. She was a couple years older than me, pretty and fiercely enthusiastic, her auburn hair usually styled differently every day. Tonight, it was straightened and flowing along her bare shoulders. I was glad to see someone else in a dress.

We joked around about work stuff, the muffled roar of the sound check in the background as we talked. "This is gonna be awesome," Karla said, as excited as she always was. I didn't know how she did it. Caffeine abuse, maybe?

"I'm really excited too." It was no lie. I had been to shitty shows before, and this was no shitty show.

"A bunch of stuck-up press people are gonna be here too. I can't stand those assholes."

I nodded, not really sure what to say.

"You just wait. Someone will drag Jack through the mud just to be cool, to be controversial and edgy. He'll be furious when he reads the scathing review, and then ten seconds later, he'll be over it."

I nodded. "Oh, yeah. He told me about those people."

"They'll all stand back here sipping cocktails, acting like they really give a damn. But it's just because pretending to give a damn is their job. Anyway, I should shut up. Let's just have a good time. More drinks?"

I was okay with that.

We continued to drink until Jack came back and joined us with Lexy and the rest of the band. She sat down beside Karla and me, pouring herself a bourbon on the rocks.

Everyone was goofing around and having a good time backstage. I didn't get every inside joke, but I was okay with that. And thankfully, no one was doing any drugs.

Jack sat next to me, but only for a short while.