Lead (Stage Dive, #3)

by Kylie Scott

“Mostly? I was mostly useful.” Slowly, I shook my head, biting back an incredulous grin. Lucky my sense of self-worth wasn’t dependent on him or it’d be a sad, shriveled wreck hiding out in the corner by now.

“How’s your face and what the fuck are you wearing?” “Ask, Lena,” Jimmy bit out. “I can’t. Your shirt’s so ugly it made her cry.” I laughed even harder.

“For goodness sake, what do you think, Jimmy? That I stole it to sleep in or something?” I laughed bitterly. Sure as hell, the truth deserved a good mocking. I’d sunk so despicably low.

“And I pay you to make excuses for me.” “I think I’m going to start charging you extra for lies. Someone needs to pay for the stain on my soul.”

It basically looked like a post-modernist had thrown up in here and the decorator decided to call it a day.

He glared at the floor like it’d eaten the last Reese’s minicup in the pack.

we very much needed to discuss his back scrubbing needs and how I, as employee of the month, could meet them.

It wasn’t like I could see anything through the keyhole. Let’s pretend I didn’t try.

Fancy falling for someone you didn’t even particularly like half the damn time. Who did something so stupid? I mean apart from me, obviously.

“You know where you can shove the list. And if you need help, let me just fetch a rubber glove and some lube and I’ll be right with you.”

“I’m healthy. I eat fruit.” “In pie doesn’t count.”

Love is a convoluted thing really, there is little simplicity to it deep down. It consists of layers of emotions, thoughts, and memories, coalescing into one overwhelming point. The knowledge that one person in this world means more to you than most anything. Sense and reason don’t stand a chance. Sometime-bastard and messed-up man that he was, I adored him, all of him.

“You’re such an asshole.” “Language, Lena,” he tutted. “Watch the fucking language.”

I’m going to tell you what I told Killer at puppy training today when he tried to mount a teacup poodle he’d only just met. If she means something to you, you gotta do the woo, son. You can’t just be trying to stick it in.”

I’m pretty damn sure Dante meant to make weddings one of the levels of hell and just forgot.