Read Online MADversary by Jade C. Jamison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jade C. Jamison
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t-shirt on the coffee table. “And what do they expect from musicians anyway?”
She smiled. “Do you mind if I get a glass of water?”
“Sure that’s all you want? There plenty to drink here …fully stocked bar. ”
She must have seemed even more nervous than she felt. “Water would be fine, really.”
“Want some ice?”
“Maybe…”
So once he had the fire going, he took the ice bucket and left the room momentarily. She used that time to observe his unclothed torso. Tyler’s skin had been uninked when they ’d been together as teenagers , but he’d spent the last decade with tattoo artists having their way with his skin. Megan grinned, wondering what some of the other guests would think, seeing his decorated body traipse down the hall in search of ice. Of course, it was late, and there wasn’t much of a chance at this point that he’d be spotted.
But while he was out of the room, she tried to imagine his tattoos again. There were a lot. He didn’t have any sleeves, but he was well on his way. He only had a couple on his back, but they were noticeable and large. She didn’t have much chance to decipher the pictures, but maybe later she could check them out as though she were in an art gallery. That was the hope.
Tyler had been a cute teen, but he had grown up to be fucking hot. And Megan had been a fun-loving young girl. Now she was a nervous spaz. What the hell was wrong with her that she couldn’t just relax and enjoy herself?
Maybe she should have just one drink.
Tyler returned with the ice and bolted the door behind him. Megan looked up from the couch and smiled as he turned around. He set the ice bucket on the bar that wrapped around half the kitchen. She stood up, walking toward him. “I was thinking maybe a little drink wouldn’t hurt.”
“Would you rather have some wine?”
“What do you have here already?”
He opened the refrigerator. The entire top shelf was stocked not just with alcohol but cans of soda and some snacks. “Lots of stuff, actually.” He turned around to look at her. “I could make you a rum and Coke. Or…” He looked in the fridge again. “…almost anything and Coke. Jack, Southern Comfort…”
“I guess a rum and Coke would be fine.”
He nodded. “Go sit by the fire and I’ll bring it over.”
“Are you gonna have one too?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
She walked back to the sofa and wound up sitting on one side, resting in a corner without thinking about it. She slid her sandals off and tucked her feet up underneath herself. The fire did feel comforting in the unnaturally cool room. She found herself staring at the flames as they moved about behind the glass screen. Sure, it wasn’t a real fire—there were no cracks or snaps of genuine wood—but it looked and felt right just the same.
Tyler joined her on the couch, and he sat next to her, leaving the remainder of the couch’s expanse behind his back. He handed Megan her drink and set his on the coffee table. “It’s nice, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d love one of those.”
He smiled and took a sip of his drink. “Whew,” he said, placing the glass on the coffee table. “I have a tendency to make those too strong. I think these ones are just right. How’s yours?”
She took a sip. “It’s fine.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “So what did you want to talk about, Megan?”
She felt a shy grin spread across her cheeks and she looked down into the brown liquid in the glass she was holding. “I don’t know. I just…” No… oh, no . There was no way she was going to tell him what she’d really been thinking, that she couldn’t help but think long term. And she also couldn’t tell him she had some weird sort of performance anxiety. But she couldn’t tell him nothing . “I just feel like we don’t really know each other anymore, and it seems kind of strange to
She smiled. “Do you mind if I get a glass of water?”
“Sure that’s all you want? There plenty to drink here …fully stocked bar. ”
She must have seemed even more nervous than she felt. “Water would be fine, really.”
“Want some ice?”
“Maybe…”
So once he had the fire going, he took the ice bucket and left the room momentarily. She used that time to observe his unclothed torso. Tyler’s skin had been uninked when they ’d been together as teenagers , but he’d spent the last decade with tattoo artists having their way with his skin. Megan grinned, wondering what some of the other guests would think, seeing his decorated body traipse down the hall in search of ice. Of course, it was late, and there wasn’t much of a chance at this point that he’d be spotted.
But while he was out of the room, she tried to imagine his tattoos again. There were a lot. He didn’t have any sleeves, but he was well on his way. He only had a couple on his back, but they were noticeable and large. She didn’t have much chance to decipher the pictures, but maybe later she could check them out as though she were in an art gallery. That was the hope.
Tyler had been a cute teen, but he had grown up to be fucking hot. And Megan had been a fun-loving young girl. Now she was a nervous spaz. What the hell was wrong with her that she couldn’t just relax and enjoy herself?
Maybe she should have just one drink.
Tyler returned with the ice and bolted the door behind him. Megan looked up from the couch and smiled as he turned around. He set the ice bucket on the bar that wrapped around half the kitchen. She stood up, walking toward him. “I was thinking maybe a little drink wouldn’t hurt.”
“Would you rather have some wine?”
“What do you have here already?”
He opened the refrigerator. The entire top shelf was stocked not just with alcohol but cans of soda and some snacks. “Lots of stuff, actually.” He turned around to look at her. “I could make you a rum and Coke. Or…” He looked in the fridge again. “…almost anything and Coke. Jack, Southern Comfort…”
“I guess a rum and Coke would be fine.”
He nodded. “Go sit by the fire and I’ll bring it over.”
“Are you gonna have one too?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
She walked back to the sofa and wound up sitting on one side, resting in a corner without thinking about it. She slid her sandals off and tucked her feet up underneath herself. The fire did feel comforting in the unnaturally cool room. She found herself staring at the flames as they moved about behind the glass screen. Sure, it wasn’t a real fire—there were no cracks or snaps of genuine wood—but it looked and felt right just the same.
Tyler joined her on the couch, and he sat next to her, leaving the remainder of the couch’s expanse behind his back. He handed Megan her drink and set his on the coffee table. “It’s nice, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’d love one of those.”
He smiled and took a sip of his drink. “Whew,” he said, placing the glass on the coffee table. “I have a tendency to make those too strong. I think these ones are just right. How’s yours?”
She took a sip. “It’s fine.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “So what did you want to talk about, Megan?”
She felt a shy grin spread across her cheeks and she looked down into the brown liquid in the glass she was holding. “I don’t know. I just…” No… oh, no . There was no way she was going to tell him what she’d really been thinking, that she couldn’t help but think long term. And she also couldn’t tell him she had some weird sort of performance anxiety. But she couldn’t tell him nothing . “I just feel like we don’t really know each other anymore, and it seems kind of strange to
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