Randy.
Randy’s eyes bored into me. “Tell your dad I said hello.”
I wished I had the guts to tell him to say hello his damn self. Or to tell him to go to hell.
But I didn’t. I ignored him and prayed he’d go away.
He gave me one last lascivious gaze, his eyes wandering down to my chest, before he turned and joined the other two men he was with at a booth not far from ours.
I was silent.
I knew if I spoke, Randy would hear. I didn’t want my getting-to-know-you dinner with Parker to be blemished by the traumatic secrets of my past.
“Who is that guy?” Parker asked softly.
I shook my head. I’d fill him in later.
“Are you okay?”
I glanced up at him, not sure he’d actually spoken the words since his voice was so quiet.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure.
We finished our meal quickly and quietly. I felt Randy’s eyes on me the entire time. I couldn’t figure out if he was harmless or if he wanted something. The prickling of my nerves told me it was the latter, but I was putting on a show in front of Parker. And Randy, if I was being honest.
The second we were back outside, the inquisition began.
“Who the fuck was that?” Parker asked.
“Someone my dad knows.”
“I gathered that when he told you to say hi to him.” His voice was dry and humorless.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
Parker ran a hand over the scruff on his cheek, clearly annoyed. I cleared my throat and tucked some hair behind my ear, also annoyed.
It got awkward. I blamed Randy.
“How does your dad know him?” he asked, trying another tact.
“They grew up together. Randy’s a bookie and an asshole.”
“Sounds like a gem. Want me to kick his ass?”
“Yes. More than anything. But he’s not worth your time.”
“You were scared when he walked in.”
I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Why? What did he do to you?”
I shrugged. He reached out for me, pulling me against him. He wrapped his arms around me, and it felt good. I just stood there unmoving. I liked being in his arms. And not hugging back felt like less of a commitment. Like this wasn’t going to turn into something more than I could handle.
Even though just the way he held me told me otherwise.
My cheek met his heart. He just continued to hold me, and right when it got to be too much, right when I was about to lift my arms to wrap them around him too, he let go.
His hands found my biceps, and he pushed me back away from him, but not before pressing his lips softly to my temple. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, but last time it had been in front of someone else, a way to show that he wasn’t available in the way some girl had wanted him to be.
This time was just for me. Just for us.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, his eyes dark and heated.
I shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Truthfully I didn’t. I just wanted to get away from Randy.
“I live with three other guys. So not my place.”
I could tell from the way he was looking at me that he wanted to come to my place. But I wasn’t ready for that quite yet. I was intensely private, and I wasn’t ready to share something as personal as my home with someone I hardly knew.
Plus I still didn’t completely trust his intentions.
I didn’t know why he wanted me.
I had to admit that we had an intense attraction to one another. My soul was bound to his because he’d made me feel again after so much time spent in oblivion.
But that didn’t mean I could trust him.
I had to look out for myself, especially when it came to a musician. I had to ensure that he wanted me , not my father.
“Not my place, either,” I finally said.
“Where do you live?”
“Beverly Hills.”
“Fancy.”
I rolled my eyes. “My dad bought my place.”
“Of course he did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s be realistic here, Jimi. You work retail in a record store. You think you could afford a place in the Hills with that paycheck?”
I shrugged as I clicked the
Randy’s eyes bored into me. “Tell your dad I said hello.”
I wished I had the guts to tell him to say hello his damn self. Or to tell him to go to hell.
But I didn’t. I ignored him and prayed he’d go away.
He gave me one last lascivious gaze, his eyes wandering down to my chest, before he turned and joined the other two men he was with at a booth not far from ours.
I was silent.
I knew if I spoke, Randy would hear. I didn’t want my getting-to-know-you dinner with Parker to be blemished by the traumatic secrets of my past.
“Who is that guy?” Parker asked softly.
I shook my head. I’d fill him in later.
“Are you okay?”
I glanced up at him, not sure he’d actually spoken the words since his voice was so quiet.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure.
We finished our meal quickly and quietly. I felt Randy’s eyes on me the entire time. I couldn’t figure out if he was harmless or if he wanted something. The prickling of my nerves told me it was the latter, but I was putting on a show in front of Parker. And Randy, if I was being honest.
The second we were back outside, the inquisition began.
“Who the fuck was that?” Parker asked.
“Someone my dad knows.”
“I gathered that when he told you to say hi to him.” His voice was dry and humorless.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
Parker ran a hand over the scruff on his cheek, clearly annoyed. I cleared my throat and tucked some hair behind my ear, also annoyed.
It got awkward. I blamed Randy.
“How does your dad know him?” he asked, trying another tact.
“They grew up together. Randy’s a bookie and an asshole.”
“Sounds like a gem. Want me to kick his ass?”
“Yes. More than anything. But he’s not worth your time.”
“You were scared when he walked in.”
I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Why? What did he do to you?”
I shrugged. He reached out for me, pulling me against him. He wrapped his arms around me, and it felt good. I just stood there unmoving. I liked being in his arms. And not hugging back felt like less of a commitment. Like this wasn’t going to turn into something more than I could handle.
Even though just the way he held me told me otherwise.
My cheek met his heart. He just continued to hold me, and right when it got to be too much, right when I was about to lift my arms to wrap them around him too, he let go.
His hands found my biceps, and he pushed me back away from him, but not before pressing his lips softly to my temple. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that, but last time it had been in front of someone else, a way to show that he wasn’t available in the way some girl had wanted him to be.
This time was just for me. Just for us.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, his eyes dark and heated.
I shrugged. “I don’t care.”
Truthfully I didn’t. I just wanted to get away from Randy.
“I live with three other guys. So not my place.”
I could tell from the way he was looking at me that he wanted to come to my place. But I wasn’t ready for that quite yet. I was intensely private, and I wasn’t ready to share something as personal as my home with someone I hardly knew.
Plus I still didn’t completely trust his intentions.
I didn’t know why he wanted me.
I had to admit that we had an intense attraction to one another. My soul was bound to his because he’d made me feel again after so much time spent in oblivion.
But that didn’t mean I could trust him.
I had to look out for myself, especially when it came to a musician. I had to ensure that he wanted me , not my father.
“Not my place, either,” I finally said.
“Where do you live?”
“Beverly Hills.”
“Fancy.”
I rolled my eyes. “My dad bought my place.”
“Of course he did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s be realistic here, Jimi. You work retail in a record store. You think you could afford a place in the Hills with that paycheck?”
I shrugged as I clicked the
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