Page 54 of Worth Every Game
“You can dance for me like you did last night, all dressed up and playing a role, and that causes you no issues. You can come on my lap, for fuck’s sake. But putting your music out there? Letting people see something that actually means something to you? Where you’re not pretending? You can’t fucking do it.”
She wrenches her hands out of my grip and thrusts her chin forward. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t understand—” She lets out an angry groan. “I don’t know whyI’m even bothering to explain myself to you. Get the fuck out of my room. Get out. Get out,” she repeats through gritted teeth, eyes burning with rage. But I’m not listening to her, because—for reasons I don’t even understand—I’m pretty fucking pissed off about this.
“Not until you hear me. You’re good. You’re really fucking good, and if you don’t put yourself out there, no one will find you. The world doesn’t owe you anything. No one is coming to get you, to drag you out of obscurity. Fame and fortune aren’t going to appear on a silver fucking platter, no matter how much time you spend practising.”
Her eyes well up as she stares at me.Shit. I didn’t mean to make her cry, and all I want to do now is put my arms around her and comfort her, tell her I’m sorry and I don’t mean any of it, but I can’t lie to her. I do mean it. I mean every fucking word, even if I didn’t mean to say any of it.
“Save your pep talk for your employees. I don’t need your help. I can do this on my own.” Her voice breaks, and I feel the pain of it right in my chest.
This time, when she goes to slam the door, I step out of the way and let it happen. I cup my hands around the back of my head and let out a frustrated groan.
What the fuck just happened here?
19
ELLY
I’m pretty sure I hate Jack Lansen. Ninety-nine per cent sure. Barging into my room like he was coming to a boardroom meeting to lecture me about what I’m doing wrong…Arrogant fucking bastard.
Just because he’s marching around the West End in shoes that cost more than a month's rent, he thinks he knows what I need? What’s best for my career? What the fuck does Jack Lansen know about music?
He knows about success, a small voice whispers in my head.
Well, fuck him. I don’t need his advice. Interfering git. He didn’t even ask what I wanted, he just assumed that what I have isn’t good enough. That Imustbe dissatisfied. I don’t know what I did to drive him to say those things either. Before he started yelling at me to take my career seriously, I hadn’t seen him since I orgasmed on his lap, and he asked if I want to keep playing our stupid game. If I’d known what he was going to say before he knocked on my door, I never would have opened it. But I did, and now the atmosphere in the house is…toxic.
I’ve managed to avoid him for almost a week. I haven’t officially quit the game, but I might as well have, given how I’ve taken to creeping in and out of the house when I know he’s busy or away. It’s not a great action plan, but for now it’s working. I’m so furious that not even the thought of the money can keep me on track.
“I told you the game was stupid,” Marie says, and I bring my attention back to her, realising she’s been talking to me and I haven’t been listening. She’s in the Marchmont Arms to hear me perform, and I’m sitting in a dark corner of the pub with her. I finished my bartending shift twenty minutes ago, so I had a bit of time to catch up with her and I’ve filled her in on everything that’s happened recently with Jack.
“It’s not the game. It’s him,” I say, although I know it doesn’t make sense. Without Jack, there is no game.
Marie presses her lips together. “What are you going to do now?”
“Hide.”
She gives me a pitying look and takes a sip of her wine. “Can’t believe you orgasmed on his lap.”
Marie’s statement hits like a punch to the gut. If Jack hadn’t balled me out about my career, then maybe I could have made my peace with what happened the night I danced for him. But now, in hindsight, it feels awful. I don’t know how I got so carried away. It must be the way he smells. His face. Those deep blue eyes and his long, dark eyelashes. Or maybe it’s an invisible army of pheromones marching across the house from his room to mine, infecting me whilst I sleep.
Even recalling it now—the way he closed his eyes, the movement of his throat, the rigidity in his jaw that told me he was struggling to hold himself together—I’m turned on. And as much as I hate the effect he has on me… I also don’t. It wasgreat. I loved it. I loved every second of it until it was over, and I realised exactly what I’d done.
I can hardly think of it without wanting to die. I got myself off by grinding my crotch on his erection. And then, because I was too fucking turned on not to, I went up to my room and gave myself two more orgasms whilst thinking of the expression on his face when he’d watched me come.Horrendous. And as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the next time he saw me, he got aggressive about my music. Maybe I invited it by telling him to go away, but the gear switch was so abrupt, it sent me into a tailspin. It was as though he couldn’t understand how someone could be souselesswhen it comes to their career, and felt compelled to let me know.
He might not have used that exact word, but he was so furious, that’s how it felt. And damn it, after my disastrous panic attack at the Granville Agency, I think he might be right. That’s what made it so much harder to hear what he had to say.
Jack Lansen, businessman extraordinaire. Everything he touches turns to gold, whereas everything I touch turns to shit.
We’re completely incompatible.
It’s confusing to feel all these conflicting things for one man. My head feels like it’s exploding.
“You realise that for as long as you’re friends with Kate, he’s going to be a feature in your life. Parties, weddings, christenings…” Marie’s voice brings me back and I find her shaking her head at me, forcing me to contemplate all those future events, where a mere glimpse of Jack will bring the humiliation booming back in surround sound. My cheeks start to burn. “And now he knows you’re into him because you rubbed one out on him.”
“I’m not into him. I got carried away. And he was hard too.”
“But he’s a guy. They’re more physiological than we are. You could have been anyone, and he’d have been hard.”
My body feels like it’s being wrung out like a wet towel, and when the sensation reaches my head, I slam my eyes shut.Is that true?He said I was the sexiest woman he’d ever met… but then, he’s Jack. All smooth words and easy charm.I let out a pitiful whimper-groan.