by Carina Adams
I paused, glancing back to Roman to find him watching me, not the road. I swallowed and met Reid's eyes. "I actually don’t like Seventies rock."
Reid clutched his chest. “Say it ain't so!” He grinned, "Rome and I bonded over the classics.” Then his face grew serious. “God, you like hair bands, don't you?"
I ignored the playful accusation, much more interested in the other thing he’d said.
“You guys have been friends since you were kids?"
Reid nodded. "Since we were little. I spent so much time at his house his parents called me their second son and his grandparents insisted I call them what the rest of their grandchildren did."
“Grammy and Grandpa?" I asked, my delight mixed with fascination confusion.
He snorted. "No. They're the...” he trailed off, amusement dancing in his eyes. He turned toward Roman. "Well, well, well. Is it possible Ruffles has no idea that you're—,"
"We're Scottish," Roman interrupted with an agitated glare toward his friend. The playful man from a moment before was gone. "My family traditions aren't the same as others."
Reid smirked and ignored the anger that was clear on Roman’s face. "Yep. They're Scottish." He agreed with a tone I didn't understand.
The two of them had an entire conversation without saying a word. Not only was I completely excluded, but I didn't begin to understand why they couldn’t just say whatever they had to and get it out in the open. Maybe when I knew them better, I'd catch on. Violet had pulled out a magazine and was only half paying attention to their conversation."
It was up to me to change the subject. I touched Reid's arm to get his attention. "So, what was Mr. Attitude like as a kid?"
He looked at his friend. “The ultimate prankster."
I didn’t believe it. No way in hell.
"Really," Reid assured me. "He was always doing something to someone, and I followed along because he was my best friend. It was my job to be the voice of reason. He used to get us in so much trouble."
"He went willingly," Roman argued.
"Anything he could do to cause mayhem, this one would do it."
"Really?" My doubt was clear.
"And he always helped," Roman pointed out.
“He loved to make people laugh. Even though it was often at others expense, he was funny as hell.”
I pursed my lips, watching the topic of conversation. " I can' t picture it. A little punk ass goon, sure. Comedian? No."
“Punk ass goon? Really?”
"If the shoe fits,” I trailed off. “You expect me to believe you enjoyed something other than yelling at people and making them miserable?"
His lips quirked. "Once upon a time," he admitted, “I actually liked people."
"Then you met me, right?” I sassed, stealing the insult I knew he was about to throw. “I’m shocked. I thought the only person you liked was the one you saw in the mirror."
His mouth broke into a grin. "I do like that handsome bastard," he nodded. "He never argues or thinks I'm wrong. And he’s never told me to shove my head up my ass.”
One time. I'd said it one time. Maybe two.
“Well, that’s only because mirrors can't talk, jackass. Luckily for you, they can't laugh either."
He started to chuckle, but bit his lip. "You're one to talk Ruffles. Your mirror wouldn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If I had a face like yours, I'd sue my parents."
I had to chomp down on the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling. "Dude, if laughter is the best medicine, your face must cure everything."
He turned and looked at me so long I almost begged him to look back at the road. "You know," he began as he inspected me, “I really like what you've done with your hair." It was thrown up in a messy bun because we were getting ready at the venue, so I waited for the punchline. "How’d you get it to come out of your nostrils like that?"
I hadn’t heard that one before and I struggled not to laugh at the absurdity of it. "I don't know what your problem is,” I announced with a straight face, “but I bet it's really hard to pronounce."
“And I bet your ass is jealous of all the shit your lips are spewing."
“You know what Rome? Your family tree must be a cactus because everybody on it is a wicked prick.”
His shoulders shook briefly, but his jaw clenched and I knew I’d gone too far; I’d mistaken the game we were playing. Then he burst out laughing. I tried to fight it, to keep my resting bitch face in place, but when he winked at me, I lost it.
Reid cleared his throat, reminding me once again we weren't alone. I took a deep breath in an attempt to get control, but made the mistake of glancing at the man next to me, and started cackling again. I didn't bother to look in the back, because I knew Reid and Violet probably thought we'd lost our minds. Roman didn't acknowledge them either.
We laughed for what felt like miles.
Eventually, Roman pointed at the radio. "Listen to whatever you want."
I started the same station back up. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t my music because they liked it.
Roman waited until Reid moved back to his own seat, then he reached out and flicked my hand, the way an annoying older brother would. "Feel better now?"
“Actually, I do,” I admitted sheepishly. I’d gotten so distracted by our insult battle, I’d forgotten my insecurities. My mind was at ease, self-hatred at bay for a little while.
“Good.” He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and slid them on before he dropped his right hand onto the console next to mine. His fingers were only a breath away from my own and for a fleeting second, I longed to knot them together.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep. His fingers twitched, touching mine, but I didn’t pull away. It was random and meaningless to him, but I let his warmth soak into me.
He was the most infuriating man I’d ever met, and bounced between concern and indifference like it was normal to go from one extreme to the other. There were days I hated him. And others that I hated the fact that I didn’t hate him at all.
Sixteen
Reid
The ride was pure hell.
Part of me wanted to tell Roman to back the fuck off and leave my girl alone. The other part told me to let Ruffles handle him herself, to sit back and watch the show as she wrecked him. I settled somewhere in the middle, and bounced between being irritated by his blatant flirting and impressed by the way she ignored it.
When Roman reached over and tugged on a piece of her hair, the way a seven-year-old bully with a crush would pull on the little girl’s pigtails to get her attention, I stopped listening to Violet’s chatter and zoned in on the front. I didn’t care about Rome’s actions, I only cared about hers.
Every once in a while he’d glance in the mirror, almost as if he was checking to see I was distracted, if they were in the clear. Yes, asshole, I see you flirting with my girl.
Fucker.
Ruffles held my interest. She didn’t disappoint. She didn’t bat her eyelashes and buy into his concerned act like every other woman in the world, she snapped and gave him the cold shoulder.
I tried to keep my sarcastic smirk hidden, but it was useless. Every single thing about her intrigued me.
Ruffles wasn’t my usual type. Unlike Rome, I didn’t have a quintessential look. I was attracted to all different shapes and sizes. Blonde or brunette, curvy or straight, I didn’t discriminate. It was the personality that drew me in. I was a sucker for confident yet sweet. The ones who knew they were a catch, yet didn’t gloat about their looks or achievements. And I never slept with dancers.
Ruffles lacked confidence. Sure, she pretended with the best of them. Underneath her prickly exterior was a young woman filled with self doubt. And she sure as hell wasn’t sugary. Her sass, the shade she constantly threw, and her inability to back down when she felt threatened were clearly defense mechanisms to keep everyone from seeing she was really lonely and quite sad. Everything was a joke to her, even when it wasn’t funn
y, as if she thought it was a weakness to break down and admit that she’d had some shit luck.
I saw the person she tried to hide.
I didn’t know what drew me in or why I felt such a pull to her. All I knew for certain was that I wanted her. From the first moment, our chemistry was undeniable.
I barely knew her and she’d laughed at me every time I’d asked her out, but I wanted to change her mind. I could see us being friends. Our personalities meshed well together. She was dedicated to the job and wouldn’t leave Soiree any time soon, and since Roman planned on booking Ruffles and Violet for the same shows, that gave us plenty of time.
Plus, while she may not have taken my advancements seriously, she didn’t tolerate Rome’s at all. I’d be lying if I said watching her shoot him down repeatedly didn’t help ease my bruised ego. It meant it wasn’t just me.
I didn’t know what in the hell his end game was. He’d been blunt about the fact he didn’t find her attractive, that he didn’t want her. So, other than pissing me off, there was no point to his attentiveness. I spent the majority of the long ride trying to figure out what he was doing.
“When we get there, I’ll park so Reid and I can go in and do a quick sweep of the back rooms.” Roman announced to the car when we were a half hour from the venue. It was purely for Ruffles’ benefit because Vi and I already knew the drill. “You will stay in the car. With the doors locked.” His tone didn’t give her any room to argue.
“Once we check everything out,” I continued for him, “we’ll come get you. While you get ready, we’ll start patrolling the room. We won’t be far. We’ll check on you periodically.”
“Okay.” She glanced over her shoulder and her eyes darted between Violet and me. “Is that normal? Or are you being overly cautious for some reason?”
“There is a higher level of concern when we’re so far from home,” Roman explained, beating me to it.
She sat back and looked at him. “That makes me feel extremely comfortable. Thanks for that.”
Rome shrugged off her sarcasm. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe. We’re always vigilant. Just more so when we’re not on our home turf.”
“Is there a reason you have to be?”
“No.”
“You’re an odd duck, you know that, right?”
Roman only shrugged.
“We just don’t want anyone to hassle you,” I explained. “Some of our clients get a little over excited.”
“Oh?” I could hear the amusement in her voice and knew she was keeping in whatever joke she wanted to make.
Roman slowed and turned into a parking lot, distracting her.
“The party is in a hotel?”
“Not tonight.” Roman’s answer was curt, almost annoyed. He’d told me about the rustic hall that had been rented for tonight, and his agitation over the location. He’d no doubt prefer it to be in a hotel. Suite parties tended to get a little out of hand, but they were easier to pull the girls out of if something went wrong.
“Why are we stopping?” She wasn’t trying to be nosey. Just curious. I liked that she had questions. The rest of our dancers just went with the flow.
“To check in,” I explained. “We always go out for drinks to celebrate and unwind after a show. It makes it easier to have room keys so we can hit the hay immediately.”
“Or sneak in the back,” Violet added with a chuckle. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to stroll in wearing show hair and makeup and try to register for a room with these two.”
“It’s no different than doing the walk of shame,” Rome laughed as he parked under the portico and left the car running.
“Yeah, okay,” Vi argued. “You’re not the one who gets mistaken for a prostitute.”
“Worse. I’m the one they think has to pay a prostitute.”
Ruffles snorted. “Everyone already thinks that,” she assured him. “One look at you, and it’s a given.”
And we were back to that.
“Tick tock, you two. We’re on a schedule.”
Rome ignored me, but pushed open his door, “I won’t be long.”
“Be right back,” I muttered as I pushed open my door.
“It takes two of you to get our rooms?” Ruffles asked out her window when I was a few steps from the entrance.
I paused, turned back toward her, and held up the garment bags. “No. But we don’t get a fancy room or a few hours to get ready. We have to be in uniform when we get there.”
“Uniform?”
I loved the little wrinkle that showed up between her eyes when she was utterly confused. It was sexy as fuck and I wanted to grab her and kiss it. I winked. “You’ll see.”
Roman was still at the desk, so I joined him and smiled at the woman typing his information into the computer.
“There was a mistake with the reservation,” he told me quietly, his tone tense. “They’re overbooked.”
“Do you want me to start calling around to see if we can get in anywhere else?”
“We do have two rooms,” the woman answered for him. “One is a standard with two double beds. The other is a queen suite.”
Rome’s jaw ticked. “Fine.” He turned to me, “Looks like we’re bunking together in a double.”
Fantastic. There went all my hopes of persuading Ruffles to stay with me. Unless I could convince Vi to switch rooms with me…
As if he could read my thoughts, Rome rolled his eyes. “It’s either you and me in one room and Ruffles and Violet in the other, or we room by teams. If you’d rather share the standard room with Violet, Ruffles and I can take the suite.”
“Not happening,” I narrowed my eyes on him.
He chuckled, yet all I heard was the evil laugh from Agent Smith. My fists clenched around the bag I still held.
“Relax,” he huffed as he signed the paperwork. “You’re so easy to get going lately. Jesus.”
“Leave my girl alone and we won’t have a problem,” I ground out.
He shook his head but thankfully kept his mouth closed and his thoughts to himself as he took the room keys from the receptionist and his suit from me.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but I don’t want Ruffles. Even if I was ready to date again, she wouldn’t be on my radar,” he muttered once we were on the elevator. My jaw was so tense my teeth ground together. “I can’t figure out why she’s on yours, either. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know. Better, more exotic, fish.”
I ignored him as we found our room. As soon as we were inside, I walked straight to the bathroom, changed into my suit, and went down to the car without another word. I had nothing to say that wouldn’t cause a fight.
Ruffles eyes lit up when she saw me. I was half tempted to stop and let her get her fill. I slowed my steps slightly so she could get a good view, and pretended I hadn’t seen her looking.
“Someone cleans up nice,” she commented dryly as I slid in behind her.
Vi held out a hand in my direction. “Behold, the power of a well tailored suit.”
“Oh, baby girl,” I chuckled at my partner, “the suit doesn’t make the man. The man makes the suit. I look just as good without it as I do with.”
“Oh, please,” Ruffles snorted, turning in her seat to look at me. “It’s common knowledge that a suit like that has the same effect on women that naughty lingerie has on men.”
I popped an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”
“It’s sexy,” Violet supplied without hesitation. “Seeing a guy dressed up, the way the material drapes around him perfectly. Tight on the thighs and ass, a tie he can use as a blindfold, and a jacket she can grab while he’s pushing her up against a wall, fucking her hard. That’s about as hot as you can get.”
“Maybe, but I think it’s more than that.” Ruffles argued, unfazed by the portrait Vi had just painted. “It’s a confidence thing. Not every woman can feel comfortable enough in silky underwear to flaunt it the way it shoul
d be worn. It’s not the clothes, it’s the attitude of the woman wearing them. The same can be said for men in suits. When you see one who walks with a swagger and knows he fills it out, it’s hot as hell. It just does it for me.”
“True. Confidence is erotic as hell.” Violet rebutted.
Ruffles gaze found mine. “Yeah it is.”
I held her eyes. “Tonight’s our lucky night then, isn’t it?”
The little lines appeared on her brow again. “How do you figure that?”
“I’m wearing this all night,” I tugged on my lapels. “And in a few hours, you’re going to be flaunting that little black number I love so much.”
“Okay?”
“Seeing me in this just does it for you. You, in that outfit, does it for me.” Her cheeks tinged with red as I said her words back to her. “What other trouble we can get into?”
“Lucky us,” Violet intruded, her tone bored. “And here comes Roman. In a suit. Looking all confident and shit. Just what we need.”
I didn’t have to see him to know my oldest friend had transformed and was now the epitome of man they’d just described. Rome had been born to wear expensive suits and had always appeared more comfortable in Stefano Ricci than in jeans and a hoody. He reeked of charisma and confidence and always received more than a second glance from every woman in the room.
Ruffles didn’t spare a glance in his direction, so I didn’t look up either. She cocked a single eyebrow at me. I didn’t know if it was in question or in challenge, but I wanted to find out. Slowly she dragged her eyes down my body before she twisted around and said something under her breath to her boss.
I didn’t realize I was biting my lip until I glanced over in Vi’s direction.
She scowled. “What are you doing?” The question wasn’t more than a breath.
“I have no idea,” I whispered back. “But I want more of it.”
She shook her head and focused on her magazine. I couldn’t tell if she was disgusted or amused. She had no place to judge me. We still hadn’t talked about her stunt the week before. Unlike her and whatever secrets she kept, I had no plans to hide how I felt or what I wanted. I wasn’t giving up until I got Ruffles. Everyone else would just have to deal.
