Pure Wicked (Page 5)

Pure Wicked (Wicked Lovers #9.5)(5)
Author: Shayla Black

“You remember her name?”

“No.” Jesse grimaced.

“So she didn’t mean anything to you?” Deke quizzed.

“Nothing.”

“Then why did you do her?”

She’d been eager and pretty and willing and… “I don’t know. I didn’t have a reason not to.”

“If you want your life to have meaning, you have to treat all the parts of your life as if they’re meaningful.”

Deke’s advice surprised Jesse. His words had almost sounded philosophical. Kimber’s husband had always struck him as being long on intimidation and short on principles. Clearly, Jesse hadn’t looked past the brawn.

His former fiancée wore a scowl. “Deke’s right. When was the last time you wrote music? And recorded it? That used to mean everything to you.”

He sucked in a breath and winced. “Longer than I’d like to admit.”

“Your new album doesn’t sound like you. It’s great. Catchy and fun. Edgy. Clever.” Kimber flushed. “That came out wrong. I know you can be fun and clever and all that. It’s just…some of your best hits were soulful ballads about finding yourself and following your heart. You wrote those before you hit it big, and I haven’t heard a song like that from you in forever.”

She was right. Between the two of them, Jesse heard the message loud and clear that he’d lost his way, personally and professionally. This sabbatical away from the limelight had to be about becoming a whole new him. He couldn’t wait. Getting the opportunity to change his partying, sex-god image—and himself—couldn’t come soon enough.

“You’re right. And I needed the honesty.” Jesse stood. “Let me know when you have that baby. Thanks.”

Chapter Two

Texarkana, Texas

“How have you not committed double murder?”

Bristol Reese stared into her beer, then glanced at her best friend. “They’re not worth twenty-five to life. But don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

Jayla scowled, her dark, expressive eyes both disapproving and dismissive. “Girl, that’s restraint. He’s a player and she’s batty as hell.”

“Which is why they deserve one another. I’m sure they’ll have a short, miserable life together,” she shot back, then chugged some of her brew, ignoring the clapping and laughter from the group gathered at the large table in the center of the restaurant.

Her friend’s expression softened, her mocha skin glowing under the muted amber lights above the bar. “What about you? You gave that man sixteen months of your life. I really thought he intended to propose to you.”

“I did, too. But I guess Hayden decided that Presleigh is better wife material.”

Jayla snorted. “No, he thought having Miss Lafayette County on his arm would make him look like the shit with his buddies. That beauty pageant skank might look good in Victoria’s Secret, but she’s not you.”

Bristol nodded. “Actually, I think that’s something Hayden appreciates about her. And she’s not a skank. It pains me to admit it, but she’s sometimes sweet.”

“She stole your man!”

“I don’t think she had to try very hard,” Bristol pointed out. “Hayden was dazzled by her short skirts and her adoration…and that was that.”

Jayla pulled what she would have called her stank face. “His bitch ass needs to be taught a lesson.”

Her friend was probably right, but Bristol had to take part of the blame. Her pride stung when she realized she’d buried her head in the sand and ignored her instincts about Hayden because she’d wanted him to be everything he wasn’t—sweet, helpful, caring, capable of compromise. God, why was she so idealistic? A sweeping, romantic gesture bowled her heart over every time. She wanted Mr. Darcy to move heaven and earth to marry her, sought an Edward Lewis who was willing to conquer his fear of heights to rescue her so she could rescue him right back, hoped for her own Johnny Castle to tell her parents that nobody puts Bristol in a corner, ached for an Edward Cullen who knew his soul well enough to take one look at her and realize she was “The One.”

She was a hopeless romantic, and it hadn’t brought her a damn thing but misery.

“I’m not sure he’s worth the effort.” Bristol sighed.

“And Presleigh has no spine.” Jayla was getting indignant on her behalf, slamming a fist on the bar.

“Another fact Hayden appreciates, I’m sure. I wouldn’t conform enough for him. He always tried to change the way I dress, and all but bullied me to shut down my ‘silly’ business. He would have much preferred that I teach Sunday school at the church, maybe sell some Mary Kay on the side, and be blissfully happy to be Mrs. Hayden Vincent the third.”