Page 20 of Crimson Desires
“Is that so?”
“Yep. I want you, flower girl. And I always get what I want.”
I jabbed him with my elbow. “You’re such a dickhead. And I thought I told you not to call me that.”
“Did you? I don’t remember that.” Jack laughed.
I rolled my eyes. Secretly, I was glad for Jack’s entitlement. It was a good reminder that, no matter how nice Jack could seem at times, at his core, he was a rich, egotistical celebrity. Reminding myself of his faults made it easier for me to not fall for his infuriating charm.
It made it easier not to fall for him.
“Well, you’re not getting what you want this time,” I said. “Don’t think you can change how I feel about you by helping me with an equipment box. That’s not how this works.”
Jack and I dropped off our boxes by the equipment truck to be collected by a production crew member. I pushed past Jack and headed off toward the crew bus.
Jack, apparently not getting the hint, followed me. “Jesus, Aster. I don’t get you.”
“What don’t you get?” I asked. “Because I think I’m pretty damn good at making myself clear to you.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re like a fucking Katy Perry song. Hot and cold. One second, we’re joking around and having a good time. The next, you go fucking ice-queen on me. What’s the deal with that?” Jack asked. “Is it so hard for you to admit that you might be attracted to me?”
I grabbed the door to the crew bus and swung it open. “Is it so hard for you to admit that I’m clearly not?”
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but I silenced him with a wave of my hand.
“I’m exhausted, Jack. Goodnight.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not going to stop trying, you know.”
“Goodnight.”
Without giving him another chance to respond, I marched into the crew bus. I let the door slam shut behind me.
Walking back to my seat, I grabbed my duffel and pulled out some fresh clothes to sleep in. I headed to the back of the bus, where a curtained-off area offered me just enough privacy to change. After switching into a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie, I flopped down on my seat and reclined it.
The seat didn’t recline completely horizontally, but after the long day I’d had, I didn’t really care. I didn’t have a blanket yet, so I put up my hood, crossed my arms tightly over my chest, and curled up into a ball to stay warm.
Slowly but surely, I managed to drift off.
Chapter Six
Aster
The next several days of the tour went by in a whirlwind of crowds, music, alcohol, and avoiding the hell out of Jack Maverick.
From New York, we drove to Philadelphia. Then, to Washington D.C.
Jack tried to stop and talk to me whenever he had the chance, but I was determined to keep myself away from him. Thankfully, I’d always had a talent for avoidance.
If Jack tried to talk to me at the merch table, I’d pretend that the card reader lost connection, and would leave to talk to the tech crew so that it could be fixed. I spent most of my free time with the other crew members so that Jack and I didn’t end up alone together. I asked one of the production crew members to help me lug the merch equipment at the end of shows so that Jack wouldn’t have a reason to come and help me.
Maybe this was a bit extreme, but to me, it was necessary.
The tragic fact of the matter was that as much as I didn’t like Jack, I did find him attractive. And I’d realized that the more I spent time with him, the less I was able to cling to my preconceptions of him being a terrible human being.
And since his being a terrible human being was the only thing standing in the way of me acting upon my attraction to him, it was important for me to keep my two-dimensional view of him intact.
I didn’t want to think about the Jack who had lost his mother. Who paid visits to the bagel shop owner that he had known since he was a kid. Who was hypervigilant about keeping me safe from rabid fans.