“There’s more where that came from . . . later,” he growled into my ear. “I woke up this morning rock fucking hard thinking of you riding me again. It was so fucking real that I was seriously pissed off that you weren’t in my bed.”
I’d love to be in his bed. What? You’d love to be in his bed? For sex, just for sex. Right.
Now I was arguing with myself. In my head. I needed an intervention.
“You live with your sister and her husband, right? And you said they have a baby?” This should be safe territory. I thought of Natalie’s words this morning. Yes, we could be friends. I could learn how to have one other than her and Beau (well and Tanner and Ryver too, but that wasn’t the same).
The waitress came, and Johnny ordered a beer. I stuck with water, needing to hydrate.
“Yeah. My baby sister, Julia. She’s ten years younger than me.”
I realized I had no idea how old he was. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to show you a real good time.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Nah, I’m thirty-six.”
I wasn’t much older than his sister. “I’m twenty-seven.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Your website?”
I nodded, sticking my straw into the glass the waitress just brought. “Right.”
“Anyway, I wanted to move in with Cal—the guy at The Outrigger—but Julia wouldn’t have it. I was always her protector, and we’ve always been very close, so she wouldn’t hear anything about me not staying with her.”
“Where are you from?”
“Denver. You?”
The familiar flutters came into my stomach, but I pushed them away. I could do this. I didn’t have to tell him my life story. “A small town in Georgia. But I haven’t lived there since I was a kid.” I left out that I’d lived in so many homes I couldn’t even tell him all of them.
He nodded, placated. “I was hanging with my niece, Calia, this morning. They think she’s cutting her first tooth, and she had a fever. Julia hadn’t slept all night so I watched her so she could take a nap for a few hours. So really I wasn’t late because I was sleeping. I was late because I let Julia sleep.”
My eyes widened. Who the hell was this guy? He took care of his baby niece so his sister could sleep? That didn’t seem like him. Or maybe it did. Maybe I knew nothing at all. “You take care of babies?”
“She’s the first one I’ve ever held,” he said. “But I just love staring into her face. It’s like everything is right with the world when you look at her. So innocent and untainted. I’d give my life for that baby. And her mom.”
Deflect. Dodge. The talk about babies couldn’t continue. I cleared my throat. “I bet you say that to all the girls to make their panties wet, huh?” When all else failed, use sarcasm.
“Do I need to use that to make your panties wet?” Johnny’s eyes zeroed in on my lap. “I bet if I touched you right now you’d be soaked.”
“Pompous ass,” I said, but he knew I didn’t mean it.
He shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
I wanted to ask him again about music: what did he play, how long had he played, why didn’t he play anymore? The desire to stand next to him and play together consumed me, and I didn’t understand it. I wouldn’t push him too hard though because he’d been so great with telling me I never had to tell him anything I didn’t want to. But I had to at least try.
“If we went to the studio after this, would you play with me?”
“I’ll play with you any time, any place,” Johnny said, putting his menu down and kissing me again.
When he let me up to breathe again, I laughed. “No, not like that. Well, yes, that too. But would you play music with me?”
He stiffened, turning back away from me and picking up the menu. “I fucking said no, Bex. I told you I can’t.”
Shit. I was a bitch. I watched him for a second, his jaw clenched as he pretended to read the menu. “I’m sorry.” The words felt foreign. I didn’t apologize. Ever. But I just did.
Johnny turned his face to mine. He took a deep breath, working through whatever demons I’d knocked out of their corners. I surprised myself again and reached my hand out and entwined our fingers. He watched me, his jaw still ticking but less rigid than before. His eyes zeroed in on our fingers. My small fingers were mixed with his large, manly ones.
Friends. I could be his friend. Friends held hands and comforted each other, right? I thought so.
“I’m a dick. I have no idea how to be your friend.” He didn’t pull back, but I sensed that he wanted to. I removed my hand and placed it back in my lap.
I shrugged. “I’m a bitch, and I have no idea how to be your friend, either. So I guess if we want to be friends we just realize this about each other?”
The waitress reappeared and we ordered, comfortable silence settling between us.
“I have to work tonight,” Johnny said. “But I want to hang out with you after lunch.”
“That’s cool,” I said.
“I get off late, but if you want to . . .” Johnny left the sentence hanging, waiting for me to take the bait. Did I want him? Hell yeah, I did.
“Can we go somewhere private after lunch? Beau may be home, but he plays video games in his room.”
“You live with Beau?”
“And Natalie.”
“Have you fucked him?”
I laughed. “Ew, that’s disgusting. Beau is like my brother. We’ve known each other a long time.” Don’t ask. Please don’t ask.
“What about Tanner or Ryver?” I breathed out slowly, thanking the stars he didn’t go there.
I shook my head. “I don’t sleep with my band.” Except for that one time, but there’s no reason for him to know about that.
“I bet they’ve tried, though.” Yeah, we did. But it was a mistake.
I shrugged. “Maybe at first. But I’m a bitch, you know. One withering look from me and they shrivel up.”
Johnny covered his crotch. “Don’t make me shrivel up.”
“I would never,” I teased. “That would punish me. And I kinda like it.”
“You kinda like it? Oh, here we go again. Do I need to punish you?”
“Depends on what kind of punishment you mean.”
“I think we need to get a doggie bag.”
Johnny
I flopped down at the breakfast bar in Julia and Carter’s kitchen, careful not to be too loud. It was late, or early, again. Between going to Bex’s apartment after lunch and making her scream so loud Beau knocked on the wall, then to work, and then having Bex again at her studio, I was wrecked. In the best way possible. I was off today and planned on sleeping for the entire day.
She was leaving very soon on tour. Whatever would my dick do for a month?
I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else. The thought shocked me, but it was true. I definitely didn’t want her sleeping with anyone else. The problem was I had no idea how to broach that subject with her. Both of us being with each other was like trying to navigate carefully through each other’s minefields. Since we didn’t know what each other’s triggers were (well, we each knew at least one), we were walking blindly, never knowing when we’d get blown up.
It was exhausting. I found myself wanting to talk to her because I thought she might just get it. All of it. But I couldn’t. The words, the thoughts, the memories were right there, but I couldn’t make myself say them. No one knew. Not even Julia.
So why did I want to tell Bex?
Sighing, I flipped through the mail on the counter. I was hoping for a letter from my attorney about a court date for my record to be expunged. I saw an envelope with my name on it and looked at the return address. Nothing.
Strange. I slid my finger under the flap and lifted out the piece of paper. I opened it up and saw just four words in the middle of the page.
SHE LOOKS LIKE HER