My fingers find the zipper, yanking it down enough that I can breathe while Serena laughs. “When does it leave?”
“This afternoon. I’m supposed to report to this address and see the tour manager.” I take a breath.
“You have to admit it’s kind of poetic,” she observes. “Plus, you’re out of options. The point of the co-operative education program is to put your training into practice. If you don’t have a job in the summer where you can practice, you’ll get kicked out.”
Which is the only reason I’m still here instead of halfway down the street.
“I’ve never had a real job before. I live behind a computer.” I slap my forehead. “And I was planning on a job where I’d have time to work on my program with Professor Carter.”
“Forget Carter. This is a sign. You’re going to fuck Jax Jamieson.”
This is the risk of being friends with Serena. She regularly makes statements that, although they may be entirely false, have the immediate effect of taking years off your life.
“Serena, it’s not a sign. It’s a mistake chased by a coincidence wrapped in a bad idea. Jax Jamieson isn’t someone you fuck. He’s someone you study and watch and learn from. He’s someone you worship.”
“Yeah, with your tongue.” Shivers run through me. “You go to college to learn and study. A guy like Jax Jamieson isexactlywho you fuck. He probably has to lift an eyebrow and panties drop. He could blow on a girl, and she’d come. Hell, if he so much as brushes past you in the hallway? I bet you could live off the contact high for the rest of your life.”
“I interrupted his recording session.”
A loud bang has me holding the phone away from my ear. “Sorry, I dropped you. What the hell, Haley? You met a rock star and got invited on his tour. This is amazing. So… is he?”
“Is he what?” I whisper.
“So hot you’ll picture him every time you buzz yourself to oblivion.”
I picture his amber stare, and this time I do feel a shiver. It’s surprising but pleasant. It starts in my brain, trips down my spine, tingles lower.
“No?”
“You totally said that like it was a question.”
