Pure Wicked (Wicked Lovers #9.5)(44)
Author: Shayla Black

She shook her head, looking contrite. Given Candia’s polished-within-an-inch-of-her-life appearance, Bristol was pretty sure she didn’t show anyone her vulnerable underbelly very often.

“I’m here because Jesse is not merely a client; he’s a friend. He was also right. What I suggested was over the line. I didn’t understand how you could have possibly made such an impact on him in such a short period of time, but since he circled back with me last night, he’s set up a scholarship for recovering addicts in Maddy Harris’s name. At about one this morning, he filmed a PSA about the dangers of recreational drug use and experimenting. I can’t tell you how many favors he called in for that. Then he sat me down and told me everything wonderful about you. In the four years I’ve known him, he’s never connected with any woman on anything beyond the physical level. But you, he can’t stop talking about. To hear him, you’re practically a saint. Since you agreed to be your sister’s maid of honor after she stole your ex, I’d say that qualifies.” The woman sent her a wry grin.

“They just broke up. I’m off the hook.” Bristol blinked at the other woman, confused. “I’m sorry. So…you came here to tell me what a great guy he is and how much I screwed up?”

“No. He wanted me to be sure you understood that what I said in that text wasn’t his idea, but mine. All mine. And he wants to talk to you.”

Bristol bit her lip as her heart skidded to a stop. Jesse didn’t hate her for lacking trust and assuming he was screwing her over? For once, she didn’t hesitate. She knew exactly what she wanted. “Yes. I want to talk to him, too. I wanted to talk to him after inhaling my milkshake.”

When Candia looked at her blankly, Bristol tried not to curse at herself. The conversation had rattled her. She needed to be clear before the woman decided she was crazy and tried to change Jesse’s mind for good.

“Sorry.” She grimaced. “That didn’t make sense.”

Candia suddenly grinned. “No, I get it now. After a breakup, men cry in their beers. Women consume empty calories and have a good cry.”

The woman’s words gave Bristol pause. “He didn’t break his sobriety, did he?”

“No. In the past, I think an emotional loss like that would have sent him to a bottle and some blow with a couple of bimbos. Last night, he was completely determined to get you back.”

Her words made Bristol’s heart swell and beat faster. The misery that had dragged her down since she’d returned from Sonic to find him gone had magically disappeared. In its place? Hope.

“So will he call me or something?”

“Something,” she replied vaguely, then held out her hand. “It was really nice to meet you.”

Bristol shook it, then Jesse’s publicist exited the parlor and whisked her way out the front door. She stood, gaping after the woman. That was it?

Suddenly, Jayla appeared at her side. “Who was that?”

With a frown, Bristol started to explain. Granted, in slow, halting sentences because she was still trying to grasp it all herself. But the hope was shimmering brighter, like a shiny bangle dancing a jig in her brain.

Then the doorbell rang again, and she let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Candia had returned.

But when she wrenched the door open, Bristol found Jesse McCall standing there, looking far more like his rock star self than he had during his days with her. He wore combat boots and black leather pants—and he wore them well. A tight charcoal tee stretched across his muscled chest and hugged his bulging biceps. A fresh scruff now darkened his jawline, lending him a gorgeously disreputable look. A guitar strap crossed his torso diagonally, and the instrument rested on his back. The neck stood out, angled above one shoulder. He didn’t look merely gorgeous, but as if the professional and personal side were finally happy together in his skin.

Bristol swallowed her tongue.

“Hi, honey. Sorry I’m late.” He echoed the words he’d first spoken to her and sent her a searching smile, complete with those dimples that made her heart melt.

A thousand things she could say to him crossed her brain at once. A simple “hi” didn’t begin to convey everything in her heart. But she didn’t want to get into all the gory details of their relationship in the foyer of her mother’s house while anyone could simply walk in. As it was, Bristol figured that only a miracle—or a major ongoing drama in the kitchen—was keeping everyone from running to the front door to see who’d arrived.

Jayla elbowed her, reminding Bristol that she hadn’t said anything at all.

But her mouth didn’t seem to be working. Instead, she launched herself at him, linking her hands behind his neck and plastering her body against his. “I’m sorry.”