The Ex Factor - Erin McCarthy Page 0,62
course there are,” Elle scoffed. “You throw a bunch of nineteen-year-olds together and what else would happen?”
“I don’t know, studying?” Her sister was really excellent at distracting her. “I’m not going to debate the sex lives of college students with you. Nor am I going to debate my sex life with you. But my appearance is precisely why I called and asked you to bring me clothes and makeup. Please tell me you have a bag full of magic, because I need it.”
Elle gave her an amused look as she stepped inside. “So unexpected company, huh?”
“Yes.” Jolene glanced behind her to make sure no one had snuck up on her in the living room. Chance and Tennyson were still safely in the back yard. She could hear the faint chords of two guitars. “It’s Tennyson Mitchell and do you know how thin she is? She’s tall, she’s a brunette, she’s wearing skinny jeans, and she can play the guitar. Oh, and did I mention she’s from Chicago and has zero hint of an accent, except for when she uses y’all to be cutsie? I hate being caught off guard.”
“Whatever.” Elle waved her hand around in dismissal. “She’s probably keeping her weight down with cocaine.”
That immediately made Jolene feel guilty. She had no reason to trash talk Tennyson. “Well, that’s not nice. I think she just has good genetics and a will power I am sadly lacking. Besides, addiction is no joke, Elle.”
“You’re too nice. Just once I want to hear you call someone a bitch. Then I could die a happy and cynical woman.”
“You call enough people bitches to meet your quota and mine.” She led Elle down the hall into the bedroom. “Now make me look presentable, please.”
Elle pulled a pair of jeans and a sparkly tank top out of the bag and handed them to her. “Don’t you think it looks a little weird that you called your hairdresser over for a songwriting session?”
“You’re my sister. And I’m not going to have you do my hair. I’m just going to discretely put on a little mascara and maybe a tinted gloss. She’ll never even notice.”
“The hell she won’t. The one who won’t notice is Chance, because he’s a man. Tennyson will absolutely notice.” Elle sat on Chance’s bed while Jolene ripped off her dirty tank and pulled on the fresh one. “By the way, thanks for telling me literally nothing. I have to hear about my sister’s love life online, like everyone else in America. That’s not shitty at all, Jo.”
Jolene flushed. “We were um, trying to hunker down in our bubble. It wasn’t like I was hiding anything. I just wanted to be alone with Chance and do our thing.”
“So ‘doing your thing’ is having him attack trolls on the Internet? Showing up unannounced at the Blue Bird? Making it clear to all of Nashville that y’all are back on? Yeah, that’s totally discreet.”
Shimmying into the jeans Jolene decided she could not care less what her sister thought at the moment. She couldn’t leave Chance and Tennyson alone for longer than absolutely necessary or little Miss Threesome would be doing God only knew what. “For the record, I appreciate Chance sticking up for me against the haters. That’s what a man should do for his partner.”
Elle snorted. “So much for you insisting you weren’t going to bang Chance on this little songwriting adventure. And by the way, why did you come back here, of all places, when you had a snug cabin in the woods?” She glanced around. “This house is the definition of under-decorated.”
Jolene liked to think the sparseness of his house was because he wasn’t moving on. Wasn’t settling in. “Maybe he wasn’t planning to stay long.”
Elle sighed and stood up again. “I foresee another guitar in the pool in less than a month’s time.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said breezily. She ran a brush through her hair and slapped on the mascara and nude lipstick Elle had brought her. “Now stop being such a Debbie Downer and come outside and meet the woman with enough talent to make me well and truly jealous.” Tennyson was a naturally gifted songwriter and Jolene wasn’t and damn, that was a hard pill to swallow. Sure, it was annoying that Tennyson was thin, but the crux of it was, she made Jolene’s songwriting skills and voice feel mediocre. She didn’t have the range for Tennyson’s best work and they both knew it. Her gift was that