Don’t Fall For A Dreamer (Wayward Lane Backstage #3)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

JESSE

E vert’s idea about the album cover was great, no question. I loved it. But why did I have to be included? Me, in a photo with Wayward Lane? I didn’t belong there.

And yet, here I was, a couple of hours later, in the studio once again. I was fucking seething, standing around in nothing but my trousers, no shirt, my suspenders on, while Bailey slathered my torso and arms with oil.

Fucking Evert Jackson…

“I’m going to send Evert the bill for cleaning these pants. And for ruining my suspenders,” I grumbled.

“I’m sure the label will cover it,” Bailey chuckled.

“What about my glasses?”

“Unless he instructs you otherwise, leave them on,” she replied and gave me one last look. “We’re all done here. Off you go.”

I felt completely ridiculous. Exposed. And so out of place I wanted to scream. Shaking my head at artists and their strange ideas, I wandered out to the set to find the band already in place, shooting the shit.

“The supermodel has finally arrived,” Brodie quipped. “Thanks for making us wait, diva.”

“Shut up,” I replied.

The guys laughed while I moved to stand at the very edge of the set. I was about to put my hands in my pockets, when I remembered they were also covered in oil. Fuck it. The label would replace the pants. And then some.

“Cool chest tatts, Jess,” Holloway remarked. “You should go shirtless more often.”

Besides the lion head that sat over my sternum, I had a series of music-inspired designs on my abs. I’d gotten them when I was a wild and eager rock ’n’ roll fuckboy. When I looked down at my body now, it was like looking at another person.

“Get all the jokes out of your system, because this is never happening again,” I bit out.

“Never say never, cari?o.”

Evert’s sudden voice jolted me, and I turned to give him my best glare. It had no effect on the man. He simply gave me a long once over and smiled. “Holloway’s right. You should go shirtless more often.”

There were whistles and more jeers from the guys. Jesus.

“Okay, let’s get to work,” Evert announced. “Brodie, Holls, I need you standing on the left, in profile. Faise and Ronin, on the right, same pose, facing each other. Bai, we need brighter lights.”

I shifted my balance from one foot to the other, waiting for my turn. Ugh.

Bailey adjusted the lighting, and when Evert was satisfied, he started taking his shots.

“Look at me,” Evert instructed. More clicks. “Great. Stay still. I need a few more shots in that pose.”

More clicks, more waiting.

“Turn your head towards me, but don’t smile,” Evert added. “Bailey, grab the guitars. And Faise’s sticks.”

Once the guys had their props in hand, there was more posing, more shots.

“Jesse, come join them.”

My stomach dropped out. Here we go.

I stepped up beside the guys, fidgety as fuck.

“Where do you want me?” I asked, and damn, I was blushing again.

Evert smirked. “For now, stand in the middle with your arms crossed.”

I could certainly do that.

Evert lowered his camera and drew closer, and my pulse began to pound hard, my mouth turning dry. Fuck, it was so damn hot in here under these lights. Who needed oil to make their skin glisten? I was sweating enough as is.

“Take them off,” he demanded as he stared at me.

“Excuse me?”

His smile was downright wicked, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

“The suspenders. Take them off. I want them hanging off your pants.”

Slowly, like I was moving through molasses, I moved my hands up and did as he asked. Evert’s eyes met mine, and maybe I was hallucinating under the heat of these lights, but I swore I saw a flash of something. Lust? No. I was imagining things.

“Stand like that, and look straight ahead,” Evert instructed and then he moved back again, holding up his camera. “That’s it. Give me a hint of a smirk.”

A hint of what now?

Evert drew closer. “A smirk, not a glare. Try again.”

My patience was at zero at this point. I tried to relax but it was no use.

“Come on, work with me, cari?o.”

“Why do you call him ‘darling’ all the time?” Ronin asked. “And how come you don’t flirt with me?”

“Cause he’s got taste,” Brodie snarked, and the rest of the guys chuckled.

“Ronin’s got a point,” Holloway replied. “Evert doesn’t flirt with me either. Or Faise. Or Brodie. But now Jesse? Are we losing our rockstar appeal?”

“Boys,” I warned, smiling in spite of the situation.

“There!” Evert called out. “Don’t move.”

I stared into his camera lens, but I felt like I was staring straight into his eyes.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing,” he whispered.

More clicks, more flashes.

“Perfect, I got what I needed.”

Thank fuck for that. I started to walk away, but of course, it wasn’t that easy.

“Jesse, a word?” Evert asked.

“Ooh, someone’s in trouble and for once, it’s not us,” Faise teased.

“Nah, Ev wants a closer look at those sexy tatts,” Brodie quipped, looking at me, then at Evert. “Am I right?”

Evert shook his head. “Get out of my studio.”

The guys laughed and headed off, leaving me alone with Evert and Bailey. Evert stalked up to me, and I took a step back, bumping into the backdrop screen. Shit.

“Relax, I just want to take a few more photos—” he started.

“Nope. That’s it. We’re done.”

“Not for the label. For my next gallery showing, after the tour. You’d get a modeling fee for any related sales. What do you say?”

That was worse. Having art critics scrutinize me? No fucking way.

I sighed and stared at him. “Ev, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I told you before, I’m not pretty.”

“Don’t. Don’t even,” Evert snapped and handed me his camera. “Look. Open your eyes.”

“I can’t touch your camera. My hands are slick with oil.”

Evert moved to stand beside me, shoulder to shoulder, and showed me the photos. The man smelled damn good, like smoky wood and salt air. His scent was distracting and so was the rapid beat of my pulse that wouldn’t calm.

When I finally glanced down at the pictures, I had to admit, they were good. No, that wasn’t quite right. The photos were great. As to how I looked? I almost didn’t recognize myself.

“Not bad,” I admitted.

“Not bad?” He scoffed and lowered the camera.

“I mean, me. The photos are cool. The mood you captured.”

“You really have no clue, do you?” he muttered.

I shrugged. “And the answer to your next question is no. I don’t want to pose for any more photos.”

“Fine. Be a stubborn ass,” Evert sighed and nudged me with his elbow. “You let me know if you change your mind.”

No way was that happening. But I nodded anyway and started heading towards the dressing room.

“Wait!” He called out. “There was one more thing.”

What now? I reluctantly turned around.

“I’m hosting a party next week at my condo. A private showing of my latest work. I’ve invited local artists, musicians, and a few select journalists. And the bands, as well as Averell, Elias, and the crew.”

I didn’t enjoy parties, but networking was part of my job. And if Averell was going, I better be there.

“Tell me when and where.”

Evert

I spent the rest of the evening at home, looking through my work, and editing the photos that made the cut. But my photographer’s eye was craving more photos of Jesse. Well, if I was totally honest with myself, it wasn’t just for art’s sake. The man in me appreciated him more than anything. I couldn’t believe that he didn’t see how fucking sexy he was. He didn’t need to smile or even pose. He walked into a room, and I took notice. But it was more than that. I wanted to peel away that protective armor of his. I wanted to see him smile, laugh, let loose. I’m pretty sure he’d be unstoppable if that happened.

Jesus, what was going on with me? More than I was prepared for.

I recognized the stomach swooping madness and the way my heart hadn’t calmed all day. It reminded me of the way I felt when I first met Zachary. I was giddy and fraught at the same time with that unmistakable feeling that was more than attraction. When you wanted to know everything about someone, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

I thought when I met Jesse a year ago that my initial reaction to him was unexpected nerves, but now? I finally realized what was going on. Or maybe it was anxiety about my life? I’d been restless lately, for sure. And while the prospect of touring the world was exciting, it was also a long time to be away from home. That must be it. Pre-tour jitters. No way could I be falling for someone again. I’d given my heart over once and that was enough. Losing Zachary meant I had nothing left to give.

Liar.

I swear, sometimes I heard Zach’s voice like he was right there with me. I glanced up and stared at the picture that took pride of place on my office desk. Me and Zach on vacation in Miami, on the beach, at sunset, our arms wrapped around each other. Unrestrained smiles on both our faces. A selfie that was anything but our best work, but the most treasured photo I owned.

“What’s going on with me, baby?” I asked him out loud. “Jesse’s the last person I should be looking at. Or thinking about.”

Zachary had been adamant before he died that I’d find love after he was gone, but I couldn’t even fathom that. How could I when he was my everything?

And you’re mine. But you’ve got so much to give, Ev. And there’s someone out there who needs your love as much as I did.

“I don’t know if I’m brave enough to try again,” I admitted out loud as I stared at his beautiful face. “And not with someone who can’t stand to be in the same room as me.”

You love the chase. Use that charm of yours. No one can resist. God knows I couldn’t.

I looked back at my laptop and locked on the pictures of Jesse. That fluttery feeling took hold again. Then I thought about Zachary. There were no second chances for him. What if the situation were reversed? What would I say to him?

Go for it, baby. Take that fucking chance and go for it.