Page 23 of The Fire Walker
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because a sick, sad part of me doesn’t want cancer?” Her questioning my life choices like that kinda annoyed the hell out of me. Like I couldn’t live unless I’d been off my face on E that’d been cut with laundry powder?Fuckinghell.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said quietly. “It’s just you don’t meet many people who haven’t at least tried something once ortwice.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m old-fashioned, Iguess.”
“You take care of yourself,” she declared. “I likeit.”
We ate in silence for a while, neither of us seeming to know how to continue. All the things I’d thought about asking her just pissed off somewhere else, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. Her gaze was on her plate, so I stared at her, willing something to come tomind.
I ended up coming out with, “Why’d you move to NewYork?”
She glanced up, her eyes widening for a moment, and I wondered if I’d asked the wrongquestion.
“The same reason everyone moves there,” she replied. “To chase adream.”
“What’s yourdream?”
Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip, and she let out a long sigh. “I’m not a musician like you. I wanted to have that kind of life, though. I think about music much the same as you do. I can’t live without it. The only other thing I could’ve done was be a music journalist or work for a label. So I managed to get an internship at Galaxy, and here weare.”
“Just likethat?”
“Well, that was the condensed version, butyeah.”
“Do you want to be a marketingmanager?”
She laughed wryly at my question. “Sounds boring when you say it like that, but it’s not really a nine-to-fivejob.”
“Not really.” I grinned, thinking of the stuff we got up to while touring andrecording.
“What about you? Was the band always yourdream?”
“Yes.” There wasn’t anything else tosay.
“Just likethat?”
“Just like that.” It seemed like we both knew exactly what we wanted in life, and that turned me on more than I knew it would. Jessie seemed very driven and focused on her career, so much so it was a little intimidating. “What’s your tattoo?” I asked, letting my gaze run over herarm.
“Flowers,” she said. “Honeysuckle andbutterflies.”
“And the otherone?”
She fingered the collar of her shirt, pulling it aside so I could see, sending my body into overdrive. “It’s a skull and crossbones.” She laughed as I took in the ink over her heart. “Very original. What areyours?”
“Sugar skulls, pinups, stars, spider webs. You know, bloke tattoos.” She laughed at my abrupt description. “What?”
“I like how you saybloke. You sound very Australian when you say it.Bloke.” She tried to mimic my accent without much success. She just sounded more French, which drew me in evenmore.
I felt a grin spread across my face. I liked her. I really fucking liked her. It was way more than a physical thing, and I found myself hoping that she felt it too. Who cared if she lived in New York, and I lived in Melbourne? Who fucking cared? I’d make it work for a woman likeJessie.
“Oh, shit,” she cursed, looking at her watch. “It’s getting late, and I have a meetingtomorrow.”
“Oh.” I tried not to sound disappointed. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet. It felt like I’d hardly scratched thesurface.
I paid for dinner and walked her to her door like the gentleman I was, and I was about to say goodnight and sneak a kiss on her cheek when she came out with acracker.
