Rock Me Slower (Licks of Leather #3) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,32
communication.”
Wearing his I’m struggling for patience face, Ozzy drew in a deep breath. “Then quit assuming that every word out of my mouth is a derogatory remark aimed at you.”
“That’s kind of hard since every word that came out of your mouth last night was a slap to the face.”
“You weren’t exactly a Girl Scout, either. You were slinging poison-tipped arrows every chance you got, sweetheart. And you kicked me in the fucking nuts for simply trying to protect you.”
“I told you that I didn’t—”
“Didn’t need protection…yeah, yeah. If you’d let me handle Devon the first time, you wouldn’t be sporting that nasty bruise on your cheek, now would you?”
“How was I supposed to know he was too fucked up to feel pain?”
“You shouldn’t have had to.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve dealt with a lot worse shit that I shouldn’t have had to, but I’m still alive, aren’t I?”
Like air escaping a balloon, the tension and fury left Ozzy’s body. Shoulders relaxing, he darted me a curious glance. “Did Gerry ever try to—”
“Hell no. I’m not a little boy, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Ozzy scoffed dryly. “Oh, I noticed. It’s fucking impossible not to, sweetheart.”
His tone was rich with disdain but sent a ridiculous thrill sailing through me.
Silence settled in around us.
As Ozzy kept his eyes on the road, I mentally force-fed Benadryl to my hungry hormones that were screaming to party.
“Tell me what worse shit you had to deal with, Mia,” Ozzy softly demanded.
My muscles tensed. My stomach twisted. I’d given him safe glimpses of my past, but no way in hell was I going to slice myself open and spill that mess at his feet.
I waved my hand dismissively. “That past is best left buried.”
“What is it you’re afraid to dig up?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Neither of us can go back and change things to keep…” Letting my words die out, I bit my lip to keep from instigating another argument.
“I said a lot of hateful things I shouldn’t have last night, Mia. I didn’t mean them.”
Tears stung my eyes as emotion lodged in my throat like a boulder. I felt vulnerable and naked. But I couldn’t keep tossing Ozzy’s olive branch back in his face.
“I did, too, and I didn’t mean them, either.”
A slow, crooked grin kicked up one side of his mouth. “See? That didn’t hurt too much, did it?”
I tried to fight a smile but failed. “A little.”
“No pain, no gain, sweetheart.”
Though we were light-years from where we’d once been, a flicker of hope ignited. We’d never be together romantically again, but maybe we could survive the tour in one piece.
“Speaking of pain,” Ozzy said rubbing his stomach, “I’m getting hungry. You want to grab a drive-thru burger or something?”
“Now you’re talking my language. Yes.”
He started to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just thinking about the look on your face when we were at William Drake’s and you saw all that silverware.”
“That was crazy. Seriously, who needs more than one fork?”
“Okay, maybe you haven’t changed all that much.”
Hearing him say that made me smile.
After filling the truck with gas, we snagged a sack of juicy burgers, greasy fries, and sugar-laden sodas and chowed down as Indio and Coachella faded into the waning sunset. The headlights illuminated the craggy desert landscape as we talked about music. It was comforting to find a topic where we didn’t have to worry about resurrecting the ghosts of the past.
I found his story about Sofia joining their tour as interim road manager, and ultimately hooking up with Burk, funny, sad, and utterly fascinating. I shared a few of the harrowing venues Gerry set up for me through the years that had Ozzy howling with laughter. We swapped performance horror stories for a long time before he started pumping the brakes and pulling to the side of the road.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just need to kick the tires,” he said, killing the engine.
“Kick the tires?”
He grinned. “I gotta take a leak. Do you need to…?”
“No. I’m good.” Darting a glance at the darkness, a chill slid up my spine.
“You sure? It’s a long way before we find civilization again. I won’t watch.”
“I’ll wait.”
When Ozzy climbed from the truck, he cursed the chill as the frigid air swirled over me and closed the door. Squeezing my eyes shut, I silently started counting. A minute and forty-three seconds later, the door opened, sending another blustery wave of icy air over me, and I quickly lifted my lids.
“Shit, it’s cold out there,” he said as he settled in behind the wheel.