She popped the door open and climbed out of the car. As she closed the door behind her, he climbed out of the opposite side and straight onto the busy city sidewalk. He was careful to remain behind her at all times because the view was breathtaking, so damn perfect that he had to remind himself to breathe.
But, when she went to push through the spinning glass doors, he couldn’t help himself—he darted in front of her, his pulse hammering.
“I’m going to swallow my pride here and ask you something,” he began, hoping she’d come to a stop, but she obviously intended to do no such thing.
“You?” she snorted. “Swallow your pride? Why don’t I believe that?”
“Fine,” he said with an apathetic shrug and shifted to walk at her side. “I’ll keep it to myself.”
“What is it?” she questioned, not breaking her stride.
“Before you throw me to the wolves, are you going to coach me first?”
They came to a stop in front of the metallic elevator and she pushed the up button. “What? If you’re asking me to sleep with you, you must be out of your—”
“I mean, coach me on dating.” He leaned back against the elevator doors with his arms crossed. In no way shape or form did Rory Galveston need help on the dating scene, but Gina didn’t need to know that.
“Are you serious?” she said.
“I can be incredibly awkward,” he lied.
For all Rory knew, everyone was fucked if the band’s success depended on him becoming the star, so he figured he might as well have as much fun as possible before going down in a shower of flames.
“You can also be charming when you want to be.” She adjusted the strap of her purse over one shoulder. “Not that I see that side of you often, but you sure impressed Marsha.”
He stood up straight and then leaned in close to her, making sure nobody was around to overhear—and misconstrue—the situation. “Why do you think I’m still single?”
The elevator door dinged and then drew open. The last place she wanted to be was in a tight elevator with him, and he knew it, but he also knew that this was his best chance to get what he wanted.
He glanced up, taking note of the god-awful elevator music drilling holes into his ears, and began to tap his fingers along the metal railing behind him.
Gina passed him a disapproving glance over her shoulder.
Yep, he had her right where he wanted her. Right where he needed her.
“Why aren’t we talking?” he asked.
“Because I’m off the clock.”
“I don’t think that’s how your job position works.”
She groaned and shook her head.
“You know…” He tilted his head to the side. “This kind of is your job.”
He didn’t know how she managed it, but somehow she made the slits of her emerald eyes even narrower.
“Fine,” she snapped, breaking her composure for the first time. She cleared her throat and straightened herself. “Meet me in the hotel lobby tomorrow evening.”
“Huh,” he nodded, “that was easy.”
“Was it? We’ll see about that.” She passed him one final glare as the elevator doors slid open. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
And just like that, she raced from the elevator and made a beeline for her room. Rory, more than satisfied at the most recent development, decided it was probably best to leave her alone for the night.
He turned the opposite direction to go to his room, but twisted back before he heard her room door slam behind her, remembering her strange reaction to the news report about Peter Ebon’s nuptials.
“Hey, what about that wedding?” he asked.
She froze in her tracks and turned to face him. “What about it?”
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Are you going to get me an invite?”
“We’ll talk about that later, okay?” she said, and then raced toward her room, careful to place the “do not disturb” sign on her door before closing it behind her.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rory called out after her.
And he would also do whatever it took to find out why the news had clearly bothered her so much.
He vaguely recalled that she and Ebon had dated before she started working for Sub-Zero, but to his knowledge, that was all in the past. That didn’t explain why she’d looked so upset when she’d seen the story.
But, worse, it didn’t explain why her reaction had made him want to climb through the TV and throttle the smug looking bastard.
Tread lightly, Rory. She isn’t yours.
Despite the internal warnings, he couldn’t help wonder…
But what if she was.
Chapter 6
Gina’s phone vibrated against the varnished bar top and she reached out to stay it with one hand, closing her eyes to avoid seeing who was calling her now.
No doubt all the people she’d known back then…back before Peter had cheated on her, were all comforting each other by commenting on how they’d tried to reach out.
As if it would help.
As if it made the news of his engagement feel less shitty when she had to discuss it with a smug stranger.
“How many phone calls can one girl ignore in one day?” the bartender questioned Gina, his shadow hanging above her like a cloud of judgment as she swiped left on an incoming call.
“Excuse me?” She looked up to meet his gaze.
He was tall, blonde, and handsome. Totally her type. That was, he usually would have been, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than annoyance.
He pointed at her phone laying face-up on the wooden surface of the bar. “That’s the fourth call you’ve ignored since you sat down.”
“Right.” She reached coyly for the phone—as coy as one could be in such a situation—and flipped it upside down. “I’m not ignoring anybody. I’m biding my time.”
“It’s clear you need a drink,” he said as he slid something pink with a wedge of orange on the rim toward her. “This one’s on the house.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at the glass, then at the man who’d given it to her.
They were the only two in the bar at this hour, and based on the look in his eye, this wasn’t a fact that had escaped him.
As if on cue, he said, “Are you waiting for somebody?”
“I’m married,” she said without really thinking that particular lie through, but marriage was at the forefront of her mind. Unfortunately. Nevertheless, she committed to the lie, dropped one hand over the other to cover the lack of a diamond.
“Oh, I didn’t see a ring.” He shrugged. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though.”
She looked the other way as the bartender disappeared into the kitchen behind him, waiting for Rory to show. She wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with him, either, but she also figured it would at least be a nice distraction away from the pity calls.
Noticing the phone lighting up out of the corner of her eye, and hearing the unmistakable vibration against the wooden bar, she reached over to ignore the incoming call without even needing to see whom it was she was ignoring.
It didn’t matter. They’d all say the same damn thing.
Peter Ebon was handsome, but more than that he was rich and successful. He was uber famous and had been ushered in as the next Brad Pitt. Of course, Gina’s family thought he was the one.
She did too. For a while.
It was a future she’d looked forward to, but not nearly as much as her parents had. For them, this was the dream come true—she’d finally found a rich man who could take care of her. Someone who would praise her for her looks.
After all, as far as they were concerned, those looks of hers were the only thing she had going for her—they’d always been the only thing she had of any worth.
She took one long gulp of the drink in front of her, finishing it off before she could even bring herself to bathe in the luxury of it. When the glass slamme
d back down against the bar, her eyes shot to the phone.
Fiona was calling.
The older sister. The better sister. The smarter sister. The “if only you were more like her” sister. She was the one destined to create her own future while Gina was expected to ride the coattails of somebody else.
Though she loved her sister dearly, that phone call was definitely not getting answered. One swipe later and a green notification popped up on her screen indicating another missed call.
Seventy-two missed calls all lined up in a row; family, friends, former co-workers. If she answered one call, she’d end up answering all the rest.
She rolled her finger around the rim of the glass in slow circles, contemplating the future that was stolen from her. The fact that she had to hear the news in a very public place didn’t make things any easier, though the fact that Rory seemed oblivious helped a little. Thank God he wasn’t into pop culture, because she couldn’t imagine the hell he would have put her through if he knew the truth.
“Why do you look like you’re about to kill someone?” Rory said as he slid onto an empty barstool beside her. She jumped in place, somewhat alarmed at the sudden intrusion of her private space and more importantly, private thoughts. “Are you drunk?”
“Did you come here to ask a thousand questions?” She pushed the glass out of the way and swung around to face him. “Or did you come here for a lesson in love?”
“A lesson?” he asked. “That depends.”
“On what?”
He leaned in close and whispered against her ear, “If it’s a hard lesson.”
It could be. She swallowed nervously and jumped from her seat. “First things first.” She zipped her finger up and down, pointing to his outfit—jeans and an AC/DC graphic tee. “What are you wearing?”
He leaned back and swiveled on the stool. “Did you expect me to come dressed in a black tuxedo?”
“I expected you to try to look decent.”
“Babe,” he grinned and gestured with one hand at his chest, “I have it on good authority from a recent fan tweet that I’m ‘fine as fuck.’”
She wished she didn’t totally agree, but she managed to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth and shake her head.
“Babe?” She cleared her throat and placed a hand solidly against the bar to steady herself.
“You said I’m an actor yesterday, so I’m acting.” He leaped from his stool and locked his elbow with hers. “To Coney Island we go.”
“Coney Island?”
Forty minutes later, she watched him bite into his monstrous burger, biting off far more than he should have been able to chew.
Neon lights swirled against the night sky behind them, the sound of raucous teenagers peppered the background.
“This is why I could never date a vegan,” he groaned around the mouthful of beef. “Or rather, a vegan could never date me. Just one look at this monstrosity of a burger and she’d be halfway around the world before she stopped screaming.”
Gina reached for her dinner—a strawberry-chocolate shake combo—and stirred her straw through the thick drink. “I don’t think vegans are as bad as you seem to think. Sure, there are crazies out there who’ll drown you in pig’s blood if you so much as look at a burger, but it’s just the same with everything else in the world. Nothing is extreme unless you make it extreme.”
“Interesting,” he purred as he picked up the burger with both hands and raised it back toward his mouth. “That was very insightful.”
“I can never tell when you’re being genuine or sarcastic.”
“It’s that air of mystery that’s going to drive all the girls wild,” he said with a definite hint of sarcasm.
Noted.
“Sometimes I think you believe I’m your enemy, like I’m forcing you to do something,” she confessed, though after the day she’d had, she was hardly in the mood to tangle with him or try to hammer out this strange tension that always seemed to crop up between them.
He shrugged, but did’t reply.
“I feel like you need to be reminded that you agreed to this idea.”
He finished chewing and swallowed. “I’m working on it, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She shrugged and sank into her seat, running one hand through her dark, wavy hair.
“So what’s the next tip?” Rory questioned, reminding Gina why they were there in the first place. It was a trial date of sorts for Rory, to learn what to do and what not to do when it came to the dates she was about to set up for him.
“Back to the vegan issue.” She lowered her head and wrapped her lips around the straw. The milkshake was too thick, however, so she really had to strain herself to get much of anything to come through the thin straw. She batted her eyes upward to find Rory enjoying the show. “If on a first date a girl says something that’s off putting to you, don’t be so combative.”
“Veganism is combative,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s an assault on my way of life.”
“Your way of life is music. It’s not the food you choose to stuff your face with.”
He swallowed harshly and set the half-eaten burger down on his plate. “You’re a vegan, aren’t you?”
“I love meat,” she said loud and proud.
“Interesting.” A grin hitched across his lips. “I’d hoped, but I wasn't sure. Want to prove it?”
She stared him down for a good few seconds. “You’re juvenile, you know that? This is exactly the stuff you can’t say on a date.” Despite her reprimand, though, she was biting back a rueful return grin.
Because, apparently, she was juvenile sometimes too.
She ripped his plate away from him before swinging her legs out from underneath the bench to toss the burger in the trash. “Now, come on, we’ve got more work to do.”
A few minutes later, Gina stood against the edge of the game booth, a dart held firmly between two fingers. She squinted as she aimed for the pink balloon, the one that would win her a teddy bear if she popped it.
It was do or die, without the same life or death stakes that would usually imply. She arched her elbow, prepared her shot, but she couldn’t shake Rory’s six-foot shadow hulking over her. He was too much of a distraction. Too much of a liability.
But she took the shot anyway.
“Too bad. Too sad.” Rory chuckled, mimicking her words from when she had thrown away his cheeseburger only minutes prior.
“How about you do better?” She gestured with her hand for him to take a shot at winning the teddy bear.
He wasted no time in showing her that he could, in fact, do better. He slapped a five-dollar bill onto the counter. Then, the darts were in his hand and…
Pop went the pink balloon.
He threw his hands into the air, celebrating his victory. She couldn’t help but to roll her eyes and purse her lips. “You failed again,” she murmured with her arms crossed.
“The hell if I did.” He pointed to the popped balloon. “I just won a bear.”
“No, what you did was prove how much better you are than me.” She took a measured step toward him, refusing to back down. “You didn’t win this game for me. You won it for yourself.”
“So I should let the girl win?” He shook his head. “That doesn’t seem very modern.”
“You can win the game, but don’t do it for yourself or your ego. Do it for her.”
“Noted.”
“Now, let’s go.” She latched her grip around his arm and pulled him away from the game.
“What about the bear?” he demanded.
“They can keep it.”
She could hardly hear herself think, the place was so loud. A few minutes later, she’d dragged him under a pale yellow light, far enough removed from the noise and the excitement of the more bustling and better-lit family zone. It was just the two of them looking over the railing, peering out toward the city on the other side of the river. She wouldn’t think about how close his hand was to hers, or how
good he smelled.
“Some other basic can’t dos when it comes to dating,” Gina said, swallowing hard, “never comment on a woman’s eating habits.”
“Obviously,” Rory said. “I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Yeah?” She turned and saw something different etched across his face under the light of the moon. “Are you giving yourself too much credit?”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
Gina turned to him, and then threw one arm over the railing. “Don’t ever compare a woman to your mother. Do hold the door open for women. Chivalry might be dead, but it’s still romantic. You need to find the perfect line between being an unrepentant ladies man and a man that parents wouldn’t be upset if they found out their daughters were dating you.”
“That sounds incredibly difficult.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, but just then she heard a familiar beat, the same beat she’d now heard a thousand times before. “For the love of God, if you don’t listen to anything else I say tonight, then please listen to this.”
“You have my ears.”
“Stop with the damn drumming.”
“You don’t like the beat?” he asked, incredulous. “I was going to use that for an upcoming song.”
“It’s not about the music, but you should understand that people who aren’t artists don’t hear it the same way you do.” She shook her head. “Not the point.”
Rory raised one eyebrow, as if to question what the point was, then.
“The point is that you’re always fidgeting. You’re always moving. It can be exhausting to keep up with and a little distracting.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m single.” He shrugged, but something told Gina that he was single by choice. If true, then they’d have something in common.
He started tapping again, breaking her away from her thoughts once more. “You’re doing it again,” she said, her eyes pulled tightly closed.
“I think I figured it out.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Fucking, finally.”
Hard Sell: A Bad-Boy, Rock Star Romance Page 5
