The Has-Been and the Hot Mess - Isabel Jordan Page 0,34

on stage. Lighters and flashlight apps on phones were raised, and more undergarments were thrown on stage.

But it all died down to muted background noise when Jackson glanced over, caught her eye, and gave her the biggest, widest, most open smile she’d ever seen. All she could hear then was the roar of her pulse in her own ears.

Because this man? The man who performed like that, but still got nervous to go on? The man who rescued dogs and went to Pride Week and gave out hugs in support of his brother? The man who put his complete faith in her, and trusted her to deliver his dream?

She was falling for that man.

And if sleeping with her boss had been a career-ruining move, what would falling for a client do to her life?

Chapter 21

The high of performing to a screaming crowd was better than any drug Jackson had ever tried.

Which was the biggest reason why getting out here in the first place had been so tough. Would he be able to give it up if he got out here again? If fans wanted him to perform live, would he be able to resist going on tour and starting up the entire, sick-cycle carousel of fame and fortune again?

The answer, Jackson was very proud to say, was yes. He could give it all up. Happily, even. Because now, after all the living he’d done since the last time he’d been on stage, he was able to see performing for what it really was—the one bright spot in an otherwise miserable existence.

The touring, the fame, the constant worry about the next album and overall sales…all that was a much bigger part of the gig than the performances. And all of it pretty much sucked ass.

So, he’d take this temporary high, enjoy the hell out of it, win his dream job (with any luck), then happily go back to his real life, which was way more satisfying than his music career had ever been.

But even better than the screaming crowd was knowing that Kendall was right there, rooting for him, enjoying the performance.

He’d caught her eye a few times, and the smile on her face, the joy and tears in her eyes, and the way she danced to the more upbeat tunes he’d played (he’d done a version of Dylan Conroy’s latest song that’d prove to anyone who cared that Jackson Hale could do anything that little, no-talent shit could do, just a million times better) told him she was proud of him.

And damned if that didn’t make him feel twenty feet tall and ready to take on the world.

He decided right then and there which of her favorite songs he was going to play next. And it wasn’t the one she told everyone was her favorite. It was definitely the other one.

It was the least he could do for the woman who’d given him the best kiss of his life, then sent him out onstage in front of thousands of people with a hard-on.

“Folks,” Jackson said into the mic, “this next one is for the beautiful lady who put this whole event together. I think you can all get onboard with that, right? She did great, didn’t she?”

Lots of screams, whistles, and applause. He laughed and went on, “All right, all right. Here it goes, then. Kendall Quinn, the sexiest, sweetest hot mess I’ve ever met, this one’s for you.”

Jackson was lucky he knew the song so well, because he wouldn’t have to look at the guitar once while he was playing. He could watch her the whole time instead.

It took all of three chords before she recognized the song. He saw it on her face. It took two more for the rest of the audience to recognize it and lose their shit.

After all, who doesn’t love Sweet Child O’ Mine? And the stripped down, dirty acoustic version he was doing really gave the lyrics room to breathe, highlighting the emotion and longing Axel must have been feeling when he wrote them.

Kendall’s eyes went comically wide. He was pretty sure she didn’t even blink as he made his way through the song.

And he held her gaze the entire time. Through every note, every chord, every word, he watched her. The crowd swayed and cheered and sang along, but this song wasn’t for them.

It was all hers.

He was all hers. If she’d have him.

He’d been an idiot to think he could work with her, get to know her, spend so much time