Page 33 of Dirty Like Me
Zane was next, greeting Jesse and giving me a thorough once-over. He noted my hand in Jesse’s and his blond eyebrows rose.
“Where the fuck do I know you from?” he said, and his tone was so dripping with innuendo, I swore for all he thought he might’ve fucked me on some distant, drunken night he couldn’t remember.
Dylan leaned in and said something in his ear I couldn’t hear. The music had gone up a notch and The Black Keys were thumping out the opening lines ofYour Touch. Zane’s ice-blue eyes crinkled as he burst out laughing.
“You’re fucking kidding me. The girl from the video?” He pulled Jesse in for a one-armed, chest-to-chest bro hug, then tossed his head back, flashing his white teeth, and roared again. “Shiiiiit, brother.”
I was blushing by this point, but lucky for me the dim lighting in the room probably hid the fact. Which was good, because I’d be doing it a lot.
Jesse slapped Zane on the cheek. Zane never stopped grinning. At me. Then he tossed his arm around Maggie, who’d materialized, to my delight. Maggie rolled her eyes, shrugged him off, sort of, and hugged me. “Katie!” She looked at my hand in Jesse’s, then at Jesse, her expression curious, then accusing. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Nothing,” Jesse said, and winked at me.
Right. Nothing. Except sent me an alleged dick pic.
Shit. Were we really going with that story?
I watched, helpless, as Jesse started getting sucked away into the growing crowd of people wanting his attention. Twenty-four hours ago, if someone told me I’d feellessnervous with Jesse Mayes at my side, I’d say they were high as fuck. But right now I didn’t want to let him go. He did a really sweet thing, though, and looked me in the eye, told me he’d be back, and kissed my hand before he let go.
Luckily, Maggie was there to scoop me up.
I fucking loved this woman.
She looked hot tonight too, her little black dress showing off her flawless light-brown skin, her sleek, dark hair loose around her pretty face. Which was probably why Zane kept putting his arm around her. She kept dodging it, though this seemed like a long-established game between them. I wondered how she kept her sanity around all these hot men. Did she sleep with any of them?
Were she and Zane lovers?
I really couldn’t tell. But she pretty much ignored him as she introduced me around in a whirlwind to what she called “the VVIPs.”
Besides Dylan and Zane there was Dylan’s buddy, Ashley, who told me to call him Ash. He had this punk-meets-surfer-dude thing going on with his inky black hair, serious blue eyes and many piercings. And he was crazy hot.
What was it with these guys and their friends?
Did one need to be a perfect ten—minimum—to even hang with this crowd?
I was introduced to the members of Jesse’s solo band next, and my nerves settled a little. These, at last, were dudes from my planet. While none of them could be called unattractive by any stretch, they probably weren’t responsible for causing whiplash in the streets, and that was probably a good thing.
I was told that Rafael played rhythm guitar and various other instruments; he also co-wrote a couple of songs with Jesse on the album. Letty was the bass player and Pepper was on drums. Pepper and Ash were in some alt-rock band I’d never heard of called Penny Pushers, who often toured with Dirty as their opening band. And as it turned out, after chatting with the members of Jesse’s solo project band, and laughing with them, and enjoying the first pint of beer that Pepper handed me, I decided they were pretty fucking awesome on their own. What was it about rock ’n’ roll musicians that was so… yummy?
The carefree, bad boy vibe?
The tight jeans and leather?
Yeah. That.
And as I soaked in the vibe, I realized it wasn’t just the way they looked, or dressed, or the in-your-face sex appeal, but the sheer, potent electricity of raw male energy. It was this unapologetic way they had of taking up space, sitting with their thighs spread wide, throwing their heads back to laugh out loud, showing their teeth. They wore big, chunky rings and had tattoos, and Zane even wore a smudge of eyeliner, which made his arctic eyes look even bluer.
Not to mention they were all talking at once. Once in a while Maggie rolled her eyes and told one or all of them to shut up, but it barely made a dent.
After a while, Jesse collected me and took me around to pose for some photos with him. He introduced me to pretty much everyone he talked to, either as Katie or in some cases as “my girlfriend, Katie,” which I couldn’t say I minded, though everyone was starting to become one big, beautiful rock ’n’ roll blur. Maybe it was the beer. More likely it was my nerves. I just hoped I wasn’t getting quizzed on all these names later.
I just had tolooklike I knew what I was doing, right? Because if anyone asked me for a sound bite, I was pretty sure I’d choke. I was already dizzy with the sheer overwhelmingness of the growing crowd.
And then, in the middle of it all, I found a little respite—a tiny old lady I hadn’t even noticed at first.
She was calmly drinking a beer out of a pint glass when Maggie deposited me next to her on one of the plush chairs, introducing her to me simply as “Grandma Dolly.”
“This is my friend, Katie,” Maggie said, which was super nice of her. “She’s here with Jesse tonight.”
