Authors: Sandrine Gasq-Dion
“Excuse me?”
“Loosen up a bit, will ya? I’m not going to bite you.”
“Jesus,” I sighed, palming my forehead.
“Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“You look hungry. Let’s get some food and go over this schedule.”
“But I—”
“Nope. No arguments.”
How did I get here? Jensen opened the door for me and I walked ahead of him. I swear I felt his eyes on my ass and when I glanced over my shoulder, his head sprang up. I shot him a look and unlocked my car.
“You want to follow me?” he asked.
“I guess. I kind of know the town.”
“When did you get here?”
“About a week ago or so.”
“Oh. Did you buy a house?”
“Nope. Rented down in Kachina.”
“Awesome place. I’ll drive, you follow.”
We ended up at some Mexican restaurant and Jensen ordered two Dos Equis. I wasn’t sure I wanted to drink in his presence. My stomach was already in knots. Jensen reclined in the booth, smiling at me.
“What?” I scowled.
“Serena Devane. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“You have.” I sipped my beer.
“Oh?” Jensen sat forward with a grin.
“You put on some muscle.”
“So tell me. What have you been up to?”
“I’m an author.”
“What do you write? The stories of loss and love? That’s what you always wanted to do.”
I arched a brow at him and he put his hands up. “Okay, so I know what you write. I’ve been following your career.”
“Pity, I can’t say the same,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You never got married,” Jensen said, softly.
“No. I didn’t. Did you?”
“Once, but it was a total nightmare.”
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely.
“Live and learn.” Jensen shrugged. “What do you want to eat? The tacos here are pretty good.”
“Tacos sound good.”
“So why are you taking drum lessons?”
“I’m here to write a love story that revolves around rock bands. I don’t write about anything I don’t know about, so here I am, researching and learning to play instruments.”
Jensen placed our order and turned back to face me. Damn those dimples when he smiled. I wanted to slap them off that gorgeous face. How could he still look fifteen? God hated me. Now I felt like a pedophile.
“Serena?”
“Yep.”
“Where did you go just now?”
“Just thinking how weird this is. I didn’t know you lived here, much less gave drum lessons.”
“Well, I always loved Arizona, but I couldn’t live in Tucson anymore. I love it up here, so this is where I stayed.”
“I always wanted to live here. For years I’ve been saying I wanted to move to Flagstaff when I was ready to slow down.”
“So you’re slowing down?”
“I don’t know. I’m just here to write this book. After that? Who knows where I’ll be.”
Our food arrived and Jensen talked about the lessons while we ate. We’d be together a lot, according to his schedule. I didn’t know if I could handle this. I was already looking at him the way I used to and I had to stop. Jensen glanced up at me and those eyes fixed on mine. I coughed and looked away.
“So how about I take you to a bar after this?” Jensen folded his hands and smiled. “We can talk about what we’ve been up to. Or I’ll talk about me and catch you up.”
“Um. Okay.” My eyes strayed to his hands and a shiver passed through me. God I remembered those hands.
Jensen paid the bill and then I was driving behind him on our way to some bar. I sighed in frustration as we hit downtown and the one way streets began. I was so bad at navigating one ways. Jensen pulled into a bank parking lot and I parked next to him. We walked down the sidewalk and I had to smile as Jensen walked on the outside. He opened the door for me at the bar and I turned to him.
“Still the gentleman.”
“My mother raised me right.”
“Yes, she did. How is she?”
“She passed away.”
“I’m so sorry. She was such an awesome lady.”
“Thank you.”
I followed Jensen into the bar, my heart aching. I loved his mother and now she was gone.
“Serena?”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m just…I’m so sorry about your mother. She was always good to me.”
Jensen smiled and motioned to the booth. “Have a seat. I’ll grab a waitress.”
I took a look around the bar. Pool tables lined down the center of it and a shuffleboard game was against the back wall. Pictures of local bands lined the walls. Jensen came back with two beers and sat down across from me.
“So.” Jensen peeled at his beer label.
“Tell me how you got here. When did you finally make it big?”
“Right after I got out of college. I was playing in a few bands along the way, but then I hooked up with Wyatt and the guys. They needed a drummer, and I auditioned and it went from there.”
“I’m really happy for you.”
“Thanks. When I’m not touring, I’m here giving drum lessons. I like being settled, I guess. Touring kind of wipes me out, so it’s always nice to come back here and be normal.”
“You were always so talented, Jensen. I’m glad someone realized that.”
“What about you? Are you happy?”
“I guess so. I love what I do and the people I meet are awesome. It’s still kind of surreal for me. I’m not used to people knowing who I am.”
“I don’t think you ever get used to it,” Jensen admitted. “It just kind of is.”
“Well, I feel so special sitting with a famous drummer,” I joked.
“You want me to sign something?” Jensen smiled.
My mind went straight to the gutter at that statement. I suddenly had a visual of me on top of Jensen, riding him like a rodeo bull while he signed my tits.
“Serena? You left again.”
“I’m here. I swear.” I tried to smile.
“This is weird for you, isn’t it?”
“Just a little.”
“Well, I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
Yeah, because spending time with Jensen wouldn’t be painful at all. He walked me to my car and I unlocked it. Jensen held the door open for me as I got in.
“So, I’ll see you soon.”
“I think you might need my number.” I handed him a business card. I pulled my phone out of my purse and Jensen’s hand settled over mine.
“Let me put my number in. Then you can call me and I’ll have your number.”
Jensen entered his phone number, then handed the phone back to me. I called him and he put his phone to his ear.
“Hello?”
I laughed and hung up.
“You hung up on me.”
“You’re standing right here.”
“I’m keeping the business card. Drive safely, Serena.”
I watched him walk to his car, his ass perfectly defined in his denim jeans.
Damn that was hot.
I drove home with all kinds of thoughts in my head. Was my godmother right? Was I destined to be with Jensen after all this time? I pulled into my garage and cut the engine. My phone pinged and I smiled down at the message.
It was good to see you. I expect to see you Monday at 4 for our first lesson. Don’t be late
!
Well, I survived drinks and dinner with Jensen Pratt. I hope I could survive the rest of it.
My phone was ringing as I got out of the shower and once again, I flew across my bed to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Jensen said, cheerfully. “Are you practicing your dismount?”
“What?”
“Gymnastics joke. Guess it was a bad one.”
“I just got out of the shower. Um, what’s up?”
“Can you be ready in about twenty minutes?”
“Are you serious?”
“See you soon!”
I hung up and ran to my closet. My hair was still wet and I didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. Was Jensen high? He had to know women needed time to get ready! I hurried and threw some clothes on and applied some mascara while I blow dried my hair—not an easy feat. I had just thrown a shoe on when there was a knock on my door. I flew down the stairs and almost tripped on the last one. Righting myself, I opened the door to see Jensen with two cups of coffee.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said, as he handed me a cup. “Cream and sugar, right?”
“You remember how I take my coffee?” I stared at him. “How did you know where I lived?”
“Your application for the drum lessons. So, let’s get a move on.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to show you Flagstaff.”
“Okay, hang on, and let me get my other shoe.”
Jensen chuckled.
~*~
I watched the city fly by as I sipped on the coffee Jensen had gotten me. It was perfect and tasted better than anything I’d ever had before.
“What kind of coffee is this?” I asked.
“
Wicked Arizona Coffee
.”
“Did you just make that up?”
“Nope. Read the cup. See, over there is the train station.”
“I have seen this part of town.” I grinned at him.
Jensen went on to point out several restaurants that he frequented along with a quite a few bars. As we drove past downtown, more and more hotels sprang up and then a mall came into view.
“There’s a mall?”
“I’m sure it’s not like New York malls, but yeah, we have one.”
“God, you sounded so snotty just then.” I eyed him sideways.
“Well, big time author comes here, I have to point out all the good stuff about Flagstaff.”
“I’m looking at something right now.”
Jensen glanced at me quickly and I gave him a smile.
“Oh, I have to take you to the park. They always have these great revivals and shit.”
The park was huge and Jensen found a parking spot way in the back. We walked towards a large grassy area with what seemed like hundreds of people sitting around on blankets. Music floated on the wind and I caught sight of a stage with guys rocking out. Jensen took my hand and I swear to God my heart almost blew out of my chest. I looked at our hands, and Jensen threaded his fingers in mine. I stared straight ahead, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. We’d held hands a thousand times when we were dating, but this? I knew a lot of women would be analyzing the shit out of this right now, but my only thought was what the fuck? Jensen pulled me down and we sat cross-legged with a few other people. Jensen placed his hands on his knees, closing his eyes.
“Sit in the lotus position,” he whispered to me.
I did as he asked and placed my hands on my knees as if I were meditating.
“What are we doing?” I whispered back.
“Praying.”
Seriously? I mean, I was Catholic, but I didn’t go to church. I didn’t ask God for much, either. I was sure he was a busy man. I closed my eyes and tried to think of what I would pray for. Maybe the health of my family. I was in good shape, so anything I would ask for would be for someone else. Jensen chuckled softly beside me and I cracked open one eye. He was smiling at me.
“What?” I narrow my gaze at him.
“Really? Did I ever strike you as the praying type?”
“Jensen Pratt!” I hissed.
Jensen got up and ran across the grass, I was close on his heels though, and I tackled him. He fell with me on top of him and both of us were in hysterics.
“You should have played football instead of doing gymnastics.” Jensen teased, lifting a piece of hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. His fingers grazed my jawline.
“You really haven’t changed a bit, Serena,” he said, softly.
“I did. You just don’t see it.”
“I see that you’re still out of my league.”
“What does that mean?” I lifted off of him and searched his eyes.
“Nothing. Come on.”
We walked around the park and headed towards the stage area. A band was setting up and Jensen stopped to watch. They all had long hair with tie-died shirts on. I watched in awe as they tuned their instruments, knocking out a few riffs here and there. I picked up on the beginnings of a Pink Floyd song and turned to Jensen. The mic reverberated around the park as the lead singer spoke.
“We’re going to warm up with some Pink Floyd,” he said.
“You must like this band.”
“I do. Come on, let’s dance.”
I was about to protest that no one else was dancing, when I noticed that a few couples had walked out to the front of the stage and actually were. Jensen pulled me into his arms as “Is There Anybody Out There” began to stream out of the instruments and across the park.
Jensen’s hand slid down to my lower back and he pulled me close. I wrapped my arms around him and settled in the nape of his neck. The music changed to “Hey You” and Jensen pulled me closer. I knew he’d always loved Pink Floyd, I never knew I’d be dancing to it. Well, moving around in slow circles. Jensen nuzzled my cheek and I pulled back a bit. Our eyes met and I searched his.
“We should go,” he said.
We went out for ice cream and then Jensen took me to the secondhand store. I perused the aisles as Jensen looked through old vinyl records. I stopped as a Guinness print caught my eye. The matting was a lime green and the frame was black, the picture inside was all in Gaelic. I had to have it.
“See something you like?” Jensen asked.
“God, this is perfect! The frame alone costs more than the whole print!”
“I found a couple Pink Floyd albums I can’t live without along with some Grateful Dead.”
“Wish you were here” I mused.
Jensen glanced over at me and I turned to lift the print off the wall. We walked to the counter and I went to grab my wallet from my purse.
“No. Let me get this for you, okay?” Jensen stated.
I nodded and walked ahead of Jensen while he paid. I stood outside and waited for him to come out. The sun was out and a cool breeze moved around me. I lifted my face to the sun and sighed. I loved it out here. The smell, the feel of it. Everything.
“Hey, you.”
I turned to see Jensen smiling at me. It hit and I laughed.
“More Pink Floyd.”
“Always.”
“I think we could have a whole conversation just using their lyrics.”
“Probably. Are you hungry? I could use a burger.”
“What is with you and food?”
“I’m a growing boy.” Jensen waggled his brows.
I rolled my eyes and then motioned to my new Guinness print. “Hey, thank you for buying that for me.”
“No problem.” Jensen smiled again and damn if those dimples didn’t make an appearance.
The more time I spent with him, the more I realized how much trouble I was in. I couldn’t let him get too close to me because he was still the only guy that could rip me apart.
“Serena?”
“Yes?” I snapped out of my thoughts.
“Burger or Tacos?”
“You pick.”
“Burgers it is.”
By the time Jensen dropped me off at home, it was almost nine at night. We sat around the park for a few hours just laughing about the old days. Jensen walked me to the door and I pulled my keys out. I turned to face him, only to find him inches away.
“Good night, Serena Devane.” Jensen palmed my cheek.
“Good night, Jensen Pratt.”
I held my breath and Jensen seemed to contemplate kissing me. I didn’t know if I wanted him to or not.
“Well, bye.” Jensen walked back down the stairs towards his car.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside, locking the door behind me. I leaned up against the wood and exhaled deeply. Maybe it was a good thing Jensen didn’t kiss me. I knew what that did to me.
And that would be bad.