Thomas & January (13 page)

I was going to kill Jason.

I unpacked everything in the duffel in the set of drawers nearest the bed at the window. I knew we were only going to be there a day, but if you’ve ever had to live out of a duffel, you know it’s harder than living out of a suitcase. If you don’t keep everything organized and folded, it can take you hours to make it right again.

              I threw on a pair of jeans and thermal under yet another black t-shirt before shrugging on my hoodie. I stood in front of a mirror and ran my hands through my hair. Done. I walked to the closet near the bathroom and removed the provided laundry bag, throwing all my stuff from that day and the day before inside.
              I knocked on the bathroom door. A tiny shriek came from inside, making me laugh. “I’m not decent!” she said.
              “Oh well, then it’s okay for me to come in then.”
              “No! Not decent!
Not
decent!” I was quiet for a minute. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”
              I didn’t answer, just laughed. “January, here’s the laundry bag for all your stuff. I’ll set it right outside the door. We’ll want to have our things laundered tomorrow since we’ll be out of here tomorrow evening.”

Chapter Seven

At Least I'm Not as Sad

Thomas
              January emerged fifteen minutes later, looking for all the world like sex on heels and I tried desperately to pretend she didn’t. We both moved in front of the sink and brushed our teeth together, trying not to laugh in the mirror and get toothpaste down our fronts, but that didn’t really work out too well for me.
              A fresh t-shirt later, and we were out the door. January, a walking, ticking time bomb and I, the detonator. It was only a matter of time before one of two things happened. Either some idiot was going to push me over the line, or she was. I imagined both wouldn’t exactly be ideal. Though, I did have a preference.
              “You know what you’re doing,” I told her as we settled into the scene of the only crime we’d actually committed that night. Yeah, I did that.
              “Whatever do you mean?” She feigned surprise, her hand flew to her chest.
              “You know what you look like. You’d have to be an idiot not to and you, January MacLochlainn, are not an idiot.”
              “What?” She teased, one brow raised. “Do you plan those little ditties out before hand, or was that off the cuff?”
              “I apologize, was that not clever enough for you?”
              “It was beneath you, Eriksson, beneath you.”
              “I know something else I’d like beneath me,” I joked.
              She laughed loudly, her laugh the equivalent of a ringing bell, before checking herself. “See? You just killed it. It’s literally dead, floating upside down and bloated. It’s that dead.”
              “What a visual. You’re the queen of defusing sexual tension.”
              She made a tiny bow, raising the hem of her skirt a little and sending me very near that edge I warned you about. “Thank you. Thank you,” she said, righting herself. “Don’t try this at home, folks. I’m a professional.”
              “You’re an idiot.”
              “Thomas Eriksson! You’ve cut me to the core! I don’t believe I can go on,” she said with an exaggerated Southern accent. She leaned her body against mine and went limp. I gladly held her up and against me. “Tell Mama I love her. Tell July I bequeath to her my collection of shells from around the world, and the snow globes can go to August.” She died in my arms and then peeked up at me with one eye open as the doors slid wide to a packed lobby.
              A woman gasped at our position but caught herself before making too much of a scene. Can’t express too loudly her distaste in us or she would be too closely associated. The remainder of her party looked equally repulsed and that was just comical to me. They were disgusted for just one reason and it had nothing to do with who we were but
what we weren’t.
              “Don’t look now, MacLochlainn, but I believe we may be shocking these folks with our radical clothing and complete lack of personal space.”
And obvious lack of money.

She peered their direction and stood up, smoothing down her skirt and raising her chin to the level of "I don’t care what you think of me," but it did nothing to convince me because her neck was painted a bright red. I hated that she felt embarrassed by being silly, funny, herself. Hated that. Who did they think they were? She was probably infinitely more intelligent than these lemmings as well as talented as hell. She had absolutely nothing to be humiliated about. She was amazing.

I grabbed her hand and we strode confidently through the lobby and out the doors.

“January, can I be candid with you?
“Hmm? Of course,” she said, distracted.

“I find you to be...extraordinary.”

“You do?” she said, a genuine smile touching the corner of her eyes.

“Hell yes, I do. One of the most.”

“Thank you, Tom. That’s very kind of you to say.”

“It’s not kind, it’s the truth. Come on,” I said, wrapping her underneath my arm as we headed for the Tube toward London’s Soho district.

We were headed for Ronnie Scott’s. That’s where The Mark were scheduled to play first at ten. Seven didn’t dictate who we watched or even when or where, but if they made a suggestion, I was going to accommodate, especially if Jonah could be there. Which reminded me.

“If Jonah’s there, we have to play it cool with this,” I said, lifting her hand in mine.

“Okay,” she said, a bit hurt.

“It’s not because I don’t want to shout about it and shit. It’s because if Jonah found out, word would get out and you could jeopardize solidifying a position as a scout, January. I would feel awful if that happened.”

“Oh, okay.” She said, still sounding disappointed.

“Hey,” I said, pulling her short. I placed my hands on either side of her neck to drive the point home. “I swear, January, I’m so into you it’s not even funny. I just can’t compromise you like that. You’re obviously going to earn scout by your own merit, but if anyone at Seven thinks it’s because we’ve gotten together, no one will take you seriously. I just can’t have that. You’re too good for that.”

Her eyes crinkled in a smile. “And what is ‘this’?”

“Huh?”

“You said we had to play it cool with ‘this.’ What is ‘this,’ Tom?”

“It’s the beginning, January.”

“Of what?” she asked me seriously.

“We’ll have all the time in the world to talk about that. It’s too deep to get into it right now but know this, I’m tired of pretending. So weary of it. I forgot myself when I lost who I thought Kelly was to me, but you’ve shown me what I think, no, I
know
no one else could have shown me.”

“And what’s that?”

“That I don’t want to be lost anymore. I - I want
you
.”

She kissed me then and my tongue found hers. She smacked of innocence and saccharinelike want. Two of the most appetizing flavors I’d ever tasted and knew I’d never get enough of. January was who I wanted and I’d realized in that moment that she eclipsed Kelly with the power of a thousand suns. Thank God for unanswered prayers.

I dragged her with me through Ronnie Scott’s door and squeezed her hand before letting go. We both searched the crowd for Jonah but didn’t see him.

“He’s not here,” she said.

“Who’s not?” A deep timbre asked her. I fought with myself not to tuck January into my side.

“Jonah,” I said, turning around and offering my hand.

“Tom,” he said, shaking the hand I’d offered. “January!” He exclaimed dropping my hand like it was diseased and picking January up, swinging her around. “It’s been so long, sweet.”

“Jonah,” January acknowledged with a wry smile, pushing herself off his chest. “Stop showing off. I just saw you in New York last week.”

Jonah set her down and I resisted the urge to punch him in the face.
He can’t cross a boundary he doesn’t know exists.
“I’m sorry. Eight days is too long when it comes to your face,” he laid on thickly, grabbing her jaw with one hand and rubbing his thumb across her cheek. January rolled her eyes but laughed.

“Shall we lay it all out?” Jonah asked us both.

“Go on,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“I’m gonna win,” he said, smiling.

I laughed quietly and shook my head. “No, you won’t.”
              “We’ll see,” he said, slapping me on the back as if it was all in good fun.

He kissed January’s cheek and lifted two fingers above his head as he walked away.
              “I’m really starting to hate that guy,” I admitted.

“I like Jonah. I really do, but he can do some douchey things. I’m just warning you.”

“What?” I asked, turning to face her.

“Seriously. I heard he was doing some sketchy things when it came to bands.”

“Well, like what?”

She raised her hands in the air as if in surrender. “Listen, I don’t want to start shit, but I heard he was paying an insider at Seven under the table to find out where you would be scouting. Again!” She said, grabbing my shoulder. “I really don’t want to start anything. I just think we should be careful.”

“Damn it!” I exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger, dude! Plus, I thought it would’ve been obvious to you since he’s at almost every show you’re at.”

“Dude, I
knew
that was too much a coincidence. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.”

“For someone being so cynical in love, you sure are naive about life.”

“Shut it, MacLochlainn.”

January laughed. “Zipping it.”

While the first band set up, January and I took a seat at the bar together. People milled in and around us but we ignored them.

“What’ll you have?” the bartender asked us.

“Strawberry mojito,” January said without any prompt from me.

“Whatever you have on tap,” I said.

The bartender nodded and left to make our drinks.

“Strawberry mojito?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Shut up, Eriksson. All the girls at work rant and rave about strawberry mojitos and I found myself in a situation where I can try one. I’m a newbie. Cut me some slack.”

“All right, all right. I hope you like it.”

“Thank you,” she said, bowing her head.

We both turned around in our stools to face the crowd and the stage. I placed my hand on her knee absently to lean into her ear.

“Careful,” January teased before I could speak. “If Jonah sees this he could read into it.”

“Sorry,” I said, lifting my hand but kept my mouth at her ear. “Can you see him?” I asked her, changing direction.

She turned her head to the left slightly then the right. “No, he’s chatting up some broad with huge boobs. Totally immersed. In conversation, not her boobs,” she said, clarifying.

I laughed in her ear, sending goose bumps up her neck. “I forgot what I was going to say now. You can’t be funny when I’m trying to be sexy with you.”

“Don’t you know?” she asked me, her throat vibrating as she laughed. “Funny
is
sexy.”

“Of course, everyone knows
that,
but
I’m
the one who’s trying to be sexy. You can’t over-sexy me. You’re outdoing my attempt at sexy. It’s not fair.”

“I apologize,” she teased, leaning into me, but keeping an eye on Jonah. “Try, try again.”

“January.” I repeated her name because nothing had ever felt better to say, especially in that moment.

I trailed my lips down the back of her neck, inciting a shiver. I placed one slow, soft kiss on the spot where my lips lingered and sat back up. January’s eyes closed briefly and she pitched forward slightly sending a strange sensation of approval up my spine at the way I affected her. I fixed my posture and looked toward the stage area as the band was readying to play.

“They’re on,” I told her, glancing Jonah’s direction. His eyes searched the crowd before stopping at us. He lazily saluted me in acknowledgment before focusing back on the band.

“That’s right, ya’ bastard. You smile now,” I told him under my breath.

Ronnie Scott’s was a fairly intimate venue, suited best for acoustic sets. What I hoped was that the band we were about to see was better plugged in than out and that Jonah wouldn’t be able to see this.

“Watch for it,” I told January.

“For what?”

“When The Mark starts to play, listen to their acoustic set and let me know if you can imagine their set in full instruments. It will always be different. Our job is to decipher whether this band can handle full-fledged or if they’re strictly acoustic. Occasionally, I’ll have to ask to see them again. It’s why I avoid acoustic sets like the plague.”

“Oh, I see. Okay, I’ll try that. Why do you avoid acoustic sets?”

“Because live gigs with ten thousand people don’t sound that great when your instrument can’t reach them.”

“’Kay.”

“We have an advantage because we’re already familiar with them. Ten to one, so is Jonah.”

From the first strum, I’d had The Mark, well, marked and by the look on January’s face, so did she.

“Caged,” she said, repeating her first diagnosis.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “Shall we? There are a few bands playing at The Garage.”

“Cool.”

We waved at Jonah on our way out. He politely waved back but the look of bewilderment was enough to send us both over the edge when we reached the path outside.

“He looked so confused,” January said into her hand.

“Like a lost puppy, that Jonah.”

“He should really do his own research,” she offered by way of explanation.

“No, when he did that, he picked wrong. That’s why he cheats.”

“Where’s The Garage?” she hedged.

“A good twenty minutes that direction by way of the Tube.” I pointed northeast. “But it’s worth it. Lots of good bands playing tonight.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“I arranged it.”

“What?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I phoned the manager of the place, told him who I was, well, I may have fabricated my exact position with Seven, but it was all for prosperity mind you, and I got him to book four bands I’ve been dying to hear from the area.”