by Tara Brown
My mouth was hanging open, stuck on his comment. I found my voice finally. “This isn’t a date, and I don’t drink shots. Look at that girl two booths over. She’s watching you like she hopes you might show up as the main course on her plate. She literally spotted you and quickly put lipstick on. You buy her shots and I guarantee, they’ll go a LOT farther than they will with me.”
He gave me a funny look. “I bet I can get farther with you than you think.”
Arrogant bastard.
I tried to stand but he grabbed me. “Don’t leave.” The way he said it made me sit, like I didn’t want to. It was real. He was being genuine and maybe vulnerable, and I didn’t want to leave. The charm and arrogance were shut off. He had the strangest effect on women, me included. He was like our very own brand of kryptonite. We couldn’t resist him. I was actually a little excited to watch him eat. It was a weird thought, but I couldn’t even fight it. Whatever it was that he oozed, I liked it.
I nestled back into my seat and watched as he looked over his shoulder at the girls in the booth. He gave them a wave and turned back to me, as if none of it had happened. “You’ll drink these shots. You’ll like it, trust me.” He ordered for me, made me stay, and now was going to force-feed me shots.
I almost stayed just to see what weird thing he was going to do next. His eyes were so blue suddenly, they took my breath away.
“Kryptonite,” I muttered.
He gave me a weird look. The server delivered the amber liquid shots. Instantly, my skin crawled.
He lifted his.
I frowned. “I’m lost. You want me to drink with you, and hang with you, and we’re vying for the same apartment? I don’t mean to be rude, but I really think you should go drink with those girls over there. I don’t want to drink. I’m being polite drinking this beer because you ordered it, and it’s not the server’s fault you’re an overly-confident piece of work. I don’t like to drink, but if I do, I drink red wine.”
He held the glass up, completely ignoring me. “Have a shot, Erin. It ain’t gonna kill you.” He said it ‘keeeel’ with a laugh and a smile that melted a tiny bit of my hard exterior. He wasn’t going to relent. His eyes made me feel something I didn’t want to. He was force-feeding me my feelings too. Except dislike. I couldn’t dislike him. He could have sold me a shit popsicle, and I would have sworn it was my favorite flavor.
I relented after he didn’t stop holding his in the air. I lifted the other shot, skipped clanking it against his, and drank it back.
I shuddered, making him laugh. “See? That was easy. Now drink the beer. Jack makes it taste better. Maybe it’s not red wine, princess, but it’s better than just straight draft beer.”
His mocking tone was driving me insane. I slammed the glass down. “My name is Erin Benson. I’m starting school in a couple weeks. I’m studying law—obviously I want to be lawyer. I’m from North Dakota. I am a Gemini and I do like long walks and romantic movies, but I prefer books. I like men who treat women with respect and have more than two brain cells making desperate attempts at a fire in their thick heads. I don’t like being called princess, and I hate people who presume to do things for me, like they know me better than I know myself.”
He winked and smiled. “Now, how hard was that?”
He was insufferable. I swallowed some beer and nodded. “You want to steal my house. It was hard. I don’t want to talk to you. I want to scream at you but that’s the wrong response. That’s not civil.”
He pointed at me. “It’s mine, and I’ll tell you what—if they find one just as nice, similar area and same rent, I will be the one to move out. Until then, we make the best of this and not be shitty to each other or mace anyone. Unless it’s a girl who won’t leave in the morning. You can mace them.” He offered me one of his big hands. “Deal? And I’m not kidding. If I end up with some clingy broad, I hope you’ll go as hard as you did today. Maybe even a little extra.”
I blocked out the annoying dribble coming from his lips and noticed how long and strong, but still slender, his fingers were. The ends were completely calloused. They didn’t look like they belonged on a movie star. But the waitress had asked him for his autograph? Maybe Thin Ice was a band or something like that.
I placed my hand in his and let him shake for us both. “Deal, but your clingy women are your own problem. I might warn them before you get them down the hall.”
He laughed. “Fair enough.”
I felt the roughness of the fingertips and frowned. “So, you’re on a show or in a band called Thin Ice, or is that something else?”
He beamed. “I am the new lead singer of Thin Ice.”
I pulled my hand from his. “Singer?” I said it with a boatload of distaste.
He lifted the glass and nodded. “Yup. I play guitar, piano, and bass too. I’m learning the fiddle right now.”
I bit my lip, watching him. “For a living? This is your job that’s paying your half of the rent?” I asked and sat back more.
He scowled. “If you want, my job can pay all the rent, and you can pay me back with massages and fetching me beers.”
I shuddered. Of course he was in a band. The carefree attitude, calloused hands, girl in his bed, charming smile, and ridiculously good looks. Of course he was a singer. Only something that perfect, could be so flawed as to be creative, chaotic, and an artist. Had he been a businessman, I would have told him to try out for the Fifty Shades movie casting call. He looked just enough like David Beckham with his strong, athletic body, tattoos, and cocky attitude. I could see him as someone as smug as CG in a movie.
I ignored his taunting and mocked him back. “So a singer in a band. What made you do that?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never been in a band before, and I thought, why not?”
The waitress came with our burgers. They were massive. I ignored her, not intentionally. “You’ve never been in a band before?”
He shrugged and pointed at my plate. “No. Don’t worry. I’ll eat what you can’t.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I can eat it all.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
I was still unable to comprehend him or his ‘career’ choices. “How do you know it’s going to work with this band, and you’ll be able to pay rent and live?”
He gave me the sparkly smile from before. “Princess, don’t worry about me. Worry about that plate, because if I’m done before you, my hand may creep across the table for whatever is left.”
I laughed and lifted the burger. “I’m not paying your rent and you’re not eating my burger.” I watched him take the first bite and inspected mine. It was bacon, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, double patties, and slathered in a sauce that seemed like it might be mayonnaise-based.
I took the first bite and moaned unintentionally. “Oh my God.”
He laughed and took another huge bite. We chewed in silence.
My grandpa always said that the sign of a good meal was the conversation left unsaid. And we were not talking. The fries were crispy, the burger was juicy, and I was dying. The beer made the meal so much better. He was friggin’ right. Damn, it was the best meal I’d had in years.
I drank a big swig of beer and smiled. “So you’re going to have to keep it quiet at the apartment when I’m studying and stuff. You realize that, right, Mr. Rock Star? I maintain a very strict study schedule.”
He laughed. “I’m indie, not rock, and yeah—it’s cool. I won’t be there much. We’re on a circuit. We’ll be bar hopping and playing five nights a week. Plus, I need to get to know the new band and the fans.” He gave me a look. “What’s up with you wanting to be a lawyer? You don’t seem like the type.”
I frowned. “What type?”
“Strong and mean like the ones on CSI and SVU. Those are some spicy ladies. You seem like you’re scared of your own shadow. Like a small dog with a big bark.”
“Screw you.”
He grabbed my hand. “Wait, that came out wrong. I meant like you’re sof
t, like a lady. Not like you’re a dog or weak. You’re obviously prim and proper and raised with garden parties and the country club. I just mean that maybe you shouldn’t be around hardened criminals and bad things all the time.”
I scowled and dragged my hand away. “You don’t know me.”
His eyebrows knit together, making his eyes do the dark burning thing again. “Fair enough.” He was flexing his hand.
I drank a gulp of beer. “When did you decide to take up the music scene?” We needed a new subject.
He shook his head, taking a monster bite. “I’ve always been in music. The band came looking for me this summer. I agreed and here I am.”
I was mystified. “You came here because some dudes were putting together a band and looking for a singer . . . in a random band? Boston must be more expensive than Tennessee. Weren’t you worried about paying rent and stuff?”
He laughed at me. “No. They were making killer money last spring when they had to fire the last lead singer. It’s a huge risk for them, not me, but the old singer’s a junky. What could they do? It was either break up or find a new singer. They saw me singing and asked me to join. I start this week with them. First show is tomorrow. You should come.”
I glanced at the server. “How did she know who you were, if the first show is tomorrow?”
He chuckled. “I was doing alright on my own. I had a good following.” The darkness left and he was sparkly again. “So, what kind of lawyer?”
I watched him for a second, like he had done to me. “Prosecutor.”
He shook his head. “Why on earth would you want to do that—be surrounded by that negativity?”
An evil smile crossed my lips. “Lawyers are the people who put the bad people away. They make a difference. You can see the darkest parts of it, but I see the good in it. Without lawyers, bad people wouldn’t go to jail. Laws wouldn’t be passed. Changes wouldn’t be made.”
The light left his eyes, leaving a darkness that seemed sincere. “You gonna come to the show?” It wasn’t necessarily a color change in his eyes. I didn’t think that was possible, but from the way his brow shadowed them and his stare intensified, they seemed darker.
I took a drink, washing down the fact that he wasn’t listening to me. “That’s okay. I’m not really into bars.”
He shrugged. “Gonna be fun.” He was brushing it off, but there was a glint of something in his look. He was impossible to dislike. He was clearly a womanizing, arrogant, overly-confident asshole. And yet, I had the weirdest feeling being with him. Like I had been asked to sit with the cool kids. Girls noticed him. Guys nodded at him, like they wanted to be him, or be his friend. He brushed it off . . . even laughed it off, when it was just he and I. But if other people were there, I’d bet he’d lay it on thicker than I could imagine possible.
“Are you on meds?”
He laughed. “No, why? What the hell kind of question is that?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t get you. I’m trying to figure you out, I guess.” The question bothered him, his smile was forced. Oh God, what if he was on meds and murdered me in my sleep? I looked into those blue eyes and sighed. He would never hurt me. I knew that. I didn’t know how, I just did.
He cocked a grin. “You like figuring shit out, huh?” He looked around the room. “Well, when you figure me out, you let me know.”
I cleared my throat, pushing aside the fact that he was an odd superstar in Boston and focused in on the important thing in our lives. “You promise you won’t make me move out?”
“I’m not an ogre, princess. I just don’t need the hassle of house hunting the same week I’m starting the band and the show. I’m beginning something new here. I can’t afford the risk of being stressed unnecessarily. I too like being organized in things like living conditions and being secure in that. I’ve never been a lay-my-head-wherever kind of guy. Besides, in the meantime, it’s nice to know one person who doesn’t give a lick about Lochlan Barlow. We can be friends.”
I scoffed. “I don’t think you’ll have problems meeting friends. What about the girl from earlier? The server?”
“Met her at the place I ate lunch.”
I couldn’t even fight the grimace on my face and his shit-eating grin didn’t make me feel better about it. “Gross.”
He laughed and finished off his beer. The server returned and tried to ooze slut all over him. I’d seen it a million times with my brother. He was also a chaotic artist. Women threw themselves at him all the time.
I finished my burger, to his amazement. “Man, you can eat. How are you not fat?”
I nearly choked. “That was so rude.”
He drank from the fresh beer, not apologizing.
“I run a lot, and I do kickboxing, and my whole family is pretty thin.”
He nodded. “Well, you look good from it all.”
“Stop that. I’m not one of those girls who fawn over guys or gives into the compliments. It’s only going to make me uncomfortable and then we can’t be friends.” I pointed a finger at him.
He pointed back. “You a natural blonde?”
An exasperated sound left my lips. “You are so annoying. Do you have a filter or do you just say any old thing you want?”
“That was so rude.”
I could have growled at him but the waitress was back. “You need the bill?”
“Yes, please. Separate.”
She left with a smile for Lochlan. When she returned, he snapped the bills up quickly. I tried to grab mine but he grinned. “I want you to owe me. I mean, besides nearly blinding me earlier with bear spray.” He chuckled as he got up.
I sighed, even fawned a little bit. Exasperating. He was exasperating and adorable. The worst combination ever.
I caught the slightest point of the dagger tattoo on the back of his left arm as he strolled up to pay. He leaned against the counter, taking a mint. When he sucked it into his lips, I had to shake my head and refocus. Player alert. There was no way I was ever going to let myself be attracted to someone like him. Okay, I couldn’t fight the attraction, but I could control the things I allowed to happen.
The server handed him a slip of paper with his change. He put a tip in her hand and winked at her. When he turned back to see if I was ready to go, my level of disgust was refilled. It might even have been overflowing.
I snorted as I walked past him. “You’re despicable.”
He put his hands out. “I bought you dinner. Come on. When I said I wanted you to owe me something, it wasn’t hate and bitterness. I was thinking more like you make me breakfast sometime or wash my back in the shower—you know, roommate stuff.”
I shook my head, muttering. “Never in this lifetime,” and walked to the apartment. He got distracted along the way, waving me off and leaving with a short skirt and a bad dye job. I rolled my eyes but made myself watch the way she latched onto his arm where the tattoo was. I made a mental picture of the girl of the week for future reference.
Whenever his sparkly-blue eyes, charming smile, cocky attitude, or ridiculously-attractive body got in my way, I could always look back to that moment. I almost laughed when he checked out a redhead as he escorted the trashy blonde down the road.
Chapter Three
Costco ho
I was reading in front of the TV when he got home. It was midnight. I didn’t want it to seem like I had waited up for him, regardless of what the truth was on that. So when the key turned, I closed my eyes. In my panic I decided to pretend to be sleeping. It was a terrible idea. I didn’t trust him enough to sleep in the open living room.
He closed the door and crossed the kitchen to me. I forced myself to lie very still as he pulled the throw I had tossed on the back of the couch onto me. He sat on the couch opposite me. Through my lashes I watched as he got comfortable, watching me sleep. I wanted to say it was endearing, but it was super creepy.
We had known each other for a week and he was watching me sleep.
I moaned and started my
fake stirring. I fluttered my eyes a little and looked at him through my squinty sleepy face. “Hey.”
He didn’t smile. He just stared for a minute.
“What?”
A slow smile crept across his lips. “You wanna come to a show?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not a bar kind of girl. Maybe like freshman or junior year. But I’m a law student, not a bar slut.”
“Hurtful.”
It made me laugh. “The truth hurts, Loch.”
“That it does. Want to go for a walk?”
“It’s midnight.”
He shrugged. “I’ll protect you.”
I knew that was a fact. I wasn’t scared of being out of the house at midnight—I was tired. It was muggy and hot, and I was not in the mood to exercise.
“It’s cool outside. There’s something I want to show you.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “At midnight?”
He offered me a hand. I groaned and placed my hand in his, letting him pull me up from the couch. I jerked my hand free from his. “When was the last time you washed your hands?”
He smelled them. “Hand sanitizer about fifteen minutes ago. Gerry is kind of a nut for it.”
“Who?”
“Band mate.”
I nodded and followed him out of the apartment. He locked it up and looked down on me. “I think you’re really going to like this.”
My gaze narrowed, almost automatically skeptical of his intentions. “If you want to try to seduce me, you can just try in the apartment. I don’t need a fancy location to shoot you down. The answer will be the same, either way.”
His grin grew. “I like that about you.” He took my hand and pulled me down the stairs. We walked, him still holding my hand. My other hand rested carefully on my mace.
“So what’s the deal with you choosing a college so far from home?”
I shrugged. “My dad runs marathons here. I always liked how it is, like the laws passed in our country mean more on this side, where they were formed. Boston is so old and so important to the foundation America rests upon.”
