Page 96 of Wicked Angel
Who wouldn’t want a relationship like that? It was a big part of what made Shayla who she was, which was a girl who loved herself.
“What song is that?”
Johnny startled, the rhythm of the song ending on a broken chord when he looked up.
“Hi,” I said softly, suddenly self-conscious about barging in on him. He seemed to startle easily. How many times had I snuck up on him lately, on his own property?
Several.
“You’d make a terrible bodyguard.” I tried to make a joke. “You’re very jumpy.”
He frowned. Not in the mood for jokes, then.
I hesitated awkwardly on the threshold. Was this bad etiquette? The door was open, but he didn’t seem like he was in the mood for company. It was evident in the tension in his body, even before he knew I was here.
He uncurled from his position around the guitar and set it aside.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I’ve heard you play that song before. What is it?”
“It’s nothing. How did you get in here?”
“Oh. Shayla let me in. She needed flour for pancakes. Do you want to have brunch with us?”
The invitation seemed to take him by surprise. He looked distracted, like I’d pulled him out of deep focus. I knew what that was about. I’d been around enough musicians over the past decade and a half, throughout my sister’s career.
“I don’t mean to interrupt. If you were working.”
“I wasn’t working.” He got slowly to his feet. “But I can’t do brunch. I’m heading over to Noah’s in a bit. He’s back in town, and we’re gonna talk over some things. Probably have lunch.”
“Oh. That’s good.” I was glad he and Noah, his drummer, seemed close. Everything I’d heard about Noah from people in passing, including my sister, was positive. Also, he was super hot. He and Johnny made a good team.
“Yeah.” Johnny looked tense. He didn’t offer anything else. Maybe he was still pulling himself out of deep focus.
Or maybe last night was more uncomfortable for him than I’d realized, and his tension was about that?
When we’d said good night, I’d been irritated about the way he’d given me so much static about Dean. Not to mention his attitude about Dylan. I’d thought he’d done really well at the party, overall. But seeing him react to all the other rock stars in the room the way he did, so guarded, even when he was playing nice, with that chip firmly in place on his shoulder… and getting his back up about Dylan and Dean like that… maybe it really sank in for me how much work needed to be done here.
And how much more patient, maybe, I needed to be. Rome wasn’t built in a day and you didn’t transform someone’s relationship with his peers overnight.
Not that I expected that kind of outcome from one party. But maybe I just had no clue, going in, how it really was between him and his peers. His relationship with them was just so different than my sister’s was. People in the music industry generally respected Elle, welcomed her wherever she went. Thanks to last night, I was just beginning to really understand what it would be like to not have that kind of warm reception. For most of your colleagues to be so guarded around you, and vice versa.
What it would be like to be Johnny O.
“You did well last night,” I told him, trying to be gentle about it. “I realize it was maybe awkward. Your band is… struggling… while my sister’s is on top of the world. Not to mention the Players… It must be incredibly hard not to compare yourself to where they’re at. But you handled it well.” He did. Mostly. “You were gracious and professional.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t seem to take that too well. “Is that what you decided? Or is that what other people told you?”
“Uh, it matters what other people think, in this case. Since we’re trying to fix your broken relationship to the world outside these doors.”
“I’m not living to please everyone else. I already told you that.”
“I’m not saying you should.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze sweeping over me. “That’s what this is really about, right? What people think ofyou, showing up with me. You’re a people pleaser.”
That caught me off guard.
Why was he turning this around on me?
