Read Online Gone for You (Sixth Street Band #1) by Jayne Frost - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jayne Frost
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with. We’ve only spoken a few times in the last two years.”
She looked lost. And the urge to comfort her was strong. Too strong to resist. Pulling her to my chest, I let my hand run down the length of her hair.
“How could you ever be a disappointment?” As I sifted through the golden strands, I felt her shudder.
“M-my stutter, for one. My dad kinda felt bad about that. But my mom—she thought it was my fault,” she said while peering up at me, “that I didn’t try hard enough to be n-normal.”
Normal .
“You’re not normal. Why would you want to be?” Gripping her tighter when she stiffened, I kissed the top of her head. “You’re special.”
“Special, huh?” She chuckled. “I hate that word. My m-mom used to tell everyone about my ‘s-special’ classes. Getting accepted to SMU and maintaining a stellar GPA still wasn’t enough to convince her I’m not stupid.”
I barked out a laugh.
“You’re far from stupid. Just because you do that cute little thing when you get nervous?” Looking up at me in disbelief, she studied my face, stripping away layer after layer of my defenses. I shifted uncomfortably before continuing. “I barely graduated. My dad hauled me around to every bar in Austin until he left my junior year. Even got me my own fake ID.”
“Why would he do that?” The disbelief in her eyes softened to concern, prompting me to continue. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I blew out a breath.
“Because my old man didn’t give a shit if we grunted like animals as long as we did it with a guitar in our hands.”
I shrugged, trying for casual to avoid the next emotion that crept over her face. Pity. I didn’t do pity. But then I didn’t do sharing, and here I was naked on the floor telling this woman the Cliff Notes version of my life story. But somehow, I couldn’t help myself, so I continued.
“He shit a brick when Chase got accepted to Stanford. Thought it was a waste of time. He left after that. Just didn’t come home one day. I didn’t see him again until my first single hit the charts.”
Burying her head under my chin, she pressed her cheek to my chest. Truthfully, I expected more questions. But I was jaded. People were always pumping me for information. Looking for a story.
“Do you miss him?” she whispered.
“My dad?”
She nodded against my chest.
“Fuck, NO.” I snorted. “He was an asshole. My brother did more to raise me than that man ever did.”
“I miss my parents. Not all the time, but Christmas…and my birthday.” Pulling away, she looked down, her hair falling over her face, so all I could see was the tip of her nose. “Last Christmas I ordered a turkey from the grocery store. I had to eat turkey sandwiches for two weeks. I blew my budget on that damn bird.”
Sliding my hand to the nape of her neck, I titled her face up to me.
“When’s the last time you saw them?”
“A couple months ago. The Tennison Foundation dedicated the new library at SMU. I didn’t talk to them.”
The Tennison Foundation?
“You’re a Tennison?” My hand froze, my fingers still twisted in her hair.
Lily slapped my chest. “I know you have a lot of women, but you could at least act like you remember my last name.”
“I know your last name.” My back went stiff in defense. “I just didn’t know you were—”
“Marcus Tennison’s daughter?” she finished, looking up to gauge my reaction. “Why? Because I drive a beat up Honda and work at The Mansion?” She arched a brow. “Yeah, I could see how that would throw you.”
The Tennisons were Texas elite. Hell, they were elite, period. To think Marcus Tennison, land baron and philanthropist, had anything in common with Tyler Noble, a washed-up drunk who abandoned his family. Marcus may not have left, but he abandoned Lily just the same. At least I had Chase.
Her hand went to my face, startling me out of my thoughts.
“What’s the matter?” Her eyes were full of
She looked lost. And the urge to comfort her was strong. Too strong to resist. Pulling her to my chest, I let my hand run down the length of her hair.
“How could you ever be a disappointment?” As I sifted through the golden strands, I felt her shudder.
“M-my stutter, for one. My dad kinda felt bad about that. But my mom—she thought it was my fault,” she said while peering up at me, “that I didn’t try hard enough to be n-normal.”
Normal .
“You’re not normal. Why would you want to be?” Gripping her tighter when she stiffened, I kissed the top of her head. “You’re special.”
“Special, huh?” She chuckled. “I hate that word. My m-mom used to tell everyone about my ‘s-special’ classes. Getting accepted to SMU and maintaining a stellar GPA still wasn’t enough to convince her I’m not stupid.”
I barked out a laugh.
“You’re far from stupid. Just because you do that cute little thing when you get nervous?” Looking up at me in disbelief, she studied my face, stripping away layer after layer of my defenses. I shifted uncomfortably before continuing. “I barely graduated. My dad hauled me around to every bar in Austin until he left my junior year. Even got me my own fake ID.”
“Why would he do that?” The disbelief in her eyes softened to concern, prompting me to continue. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I blew out a breath.
“Because my old man didn’t give a shit if we grunted like animals as long as we did it with a guitar in our hands.”
I shrugged, trying for casual to avoid the next emotion that crept over her face. Pity. I didn’t do pity. But then I didn’t do sharing, and here I was naked on the floor telling this woman the Cliff Notes version of my life story. But somehow, I couldn’t help myself, so I continued.
“He shit a brick when Chase got accepted to Stanford. Thought it was a waste of time. He left after that. Just didn’t come home one day. I didn’t see him again until my first single hit the charts.”
Burying her head under my chin, she pressed her cheek to my chest. Truthfully, I expected more questions. But I was jaded. People were always pumping me for information. Looking for a story.
“Do you miss him?” she whispered.
“My dad?”
She nodded against my chest.
“Fuck, NO.” I snorted. “He was an asshole. My brother did more to raise me than that man ever did.”
“I miss my parents. Not all the time, but Christmas…and my birthday.” Pulling away, she looked down, her hair falling over her face, so all I could see was the tip of her nose. “Last Christmas I ordered a turkey from the grocery store. I had to eat turkey sandwiches for two weeks. I blew my budget on that damn bird.”
Sliding my hand to the nape of her neck, I titled her face up to me.
“When’s the last time you saw them?”
“A couple months ago. The Tennison Foundation dedicated the new library at SMU. I didn’t talk to them.”
The Tennison Foundation?
“You’re a Tennison?” My hand froze, my fingers still twisted in her hair.
Lily slapped my chest. “I know you have a lot of women, but you could at least act like you remember my last name.”
“I know your last name.” My back went stiff in defense. “I just didn’t know you were—”
“Marcus Tennison’s daughter?” she finished, looking up to gauge my reaction. “Why? Because I drive a beat up Honda and work at The Mansion?” She arched a brow. “Yeah, I could see how that would throw you.”
The Tennisons were Texas elite. Hell, they were elite, period. To think Marcus Tennison, land baron and philanthropist, had anything in common with Tyler Noble, a washed-up drunk who abandoned his family. Marcus may not have left, but he abandoned Lily just the same. At least I had Chase.
Her hand went to my face, startling me out of my thoughts.
“What’s the matter?” Her eyes were full of
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