I arch a brow when she looks up at me. “Are you sure? I can lose the shirt if it helps.” I can’t help the cocky little smirk that takes over when I catch her looking my body over, as if she’s trying to picture me shirtless. “And the pants too. Anything you want.”
“I think you losing your pants is the last thing we both need right now. So, how about you stay dressed for once.” She shakes her head, as if she’s surprised by my offer. “My brother is already giving me dirty looks whenever your name is brought up. Which reminds me . . .”
“What?” I sit forward and run a hand through my messy hair. “This should be good. Does this have anything to do with your hot date tonight?”
“It wasn’t much of a date. Trust me,” she says quickly. “It was all Alexander’s idea. My brother isn’t stupid. He knows how you are with women and he knows I’m a sucker when it comes to men who look like you. He’s trying to distract me.”
“Then why the hell are you here?” My words come out harsh, but it doesn’t seem to faze her like it would most women.
“I told you. For some inspiration.” She looks up at me, her eyes softening. “So, will you please play something? I don’t care what. I just need the words to flow and they seem to do that when I’m listening to music and also when I’m around you, even though I hate to admit it. So, what could be better than you playing music for me?”
I exhale and reach for another beer, tilting it back.
Tegan has no fucking clue how hard she’s making it to be a good friend to her brother.
She doesn’t get that I can’t be around her right now, but now that she’s here I don’t want her to leave.
Especially since she came here because she needs me.
It makes me want to be the hero in her damn book. Or maybe I want him to be me.
Either way, I find myself playing for her.
But I choose not to play my own music, because I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet.
When she finally hears one of my original songs, I want it to hit her in the heart. I want her to feel my words so she can see why this place is important to me, because I have a feeling she’ll understand more than anyone else does.
Words are her passion too, and that’s another thing that has me so drawn to her when I shouldn’t be.
I play for close to an hour, neither of us breaking concentration.
It’s just the two of us, alone, in this room, lost in what we love to do. I find something oddly comforting about it.
We’re connecting in a way I’ve never connected with anyone before and I find myself wanting to learn more about her.
I set my guitar down and run to grab two more beers, placing one down in front of her, before I take a seat on the stool again.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
She looks up from her laptop and laughs. “What?”
I sit up straight, saying the words firmer this time. “Tell me something I don’t know about you. You tell me something and I’ll continue to play. Unless you don’t want me to, of course. I can stop anytime.”
She keeps her eyes on me while reaching for the bottle in front of her and taps the side of it, lost in thought. “Well, when I was five a neighbor’s dog bit a small hole in my face and I had to get six stitches. I’m pretty sure I cried for two days straight.”
I don’t like the feeling I get inside when I picture her as a small girl hurt and crying. All it does it make me wish I were there to protect her.
“Tell me something else. Something happy. I don’t want to picture you hurt while I’m playing.”
A small smile forms on her face, but she quickly hides behind her bottle as if she doesn’t want me to see it. “I don’t know. I used to write these cheesy love poems when I was like twelve and one of them got published in a book. I remember being so excited and thinking that someday I’d be a famous writer. That’s what made me want to become an author. It took me a while to get brave enough to self-publish one of my recent stories, but I finally found the courage last year and so far it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. I love everything about it.”
The proud look on her face has me smiling. “Has your family read your first book?”
“Oh god, no!” She turns red in the face. “I can’t allow them to read the stories I write. They’re . . . uh . . . I don’t know . . .”
“Dirty and erotic,” I answer for her. “That’s not something to be ashamed of, Tegan. Everyone loves a good dirty book once in a while.”
“Even you?” she asks.
I keep my eyes on her as I tilt back my beer. “Even me. Words are sometimes better than pictures, because then you can imagine the person you want to do those things to.”
My answer seems to have her squirming a bit in her seat. She’s likely getting where I’m going with this. Yes, I’ve jerked off to my fair share of erotic books and I’m not afraid to admit it. The thought that she likely has too has me hardening.
“Is that right?” She reaches for her beer and takes a quick swig. “When was the last time you read a book?”
I wipe my arm over my mouth, absorbing the excess beer, before tossing the bottle into the trash beside me. “The night I came into your room and helped you relieve a little frustration. You weren’t the only one needing a release.”
“How did I know this conversation with you would turn into something sexual?” She shakes her head and shuts down her computer, showing me that she’s done writing for now.
I jump down from the stage and grip the table, moving in close enough to almost kiss her, wanting to see what me being close to her does now that she’s had me inside of her. “Because everything turns sexual with me. You know this, yet you still came here, Tegan. We both know that was a mistake, yet I let you stay.”
Her breathing picks up against my lips and I know without further confirmation that my body still has the same effect on her as before. Maybe even more now.
Shit, how that turns me on.
But being the asshole that I’m supposed to be to keep her at a distance, I decide to push her and see if I can piss her off.
“How was your little date? Did he make you want him inside of you as much as I do? Is that why you gave him your number?”
“You’re so full of yourself, Micah.” She palms my face, pushing it away. “I’ve already had you inside me once and that was more than enough.”
“That didn’t answer my question.” I walk after her as she tries to get away. Before she can reach the door I back her up against the wall and brush my lips over hers, causing her eyes to close and her heartbeat to race against my chest. “Did he?”
“It’s none of your damn business,” she breathes. “We’re not supposed to give a shit what each other wants, so let’s stick to that. From what I’ve heard it’s something you’re good at.”
She opens her eyes, allowing them to lock on mine for a quick second, before she pushes me away and walks out the door.
I’m not sure why hearing her say out loud how much of a piece of shit I am when it comes to women has me all worked up, but it does.
I haven’t touched another woman since the day she walked through her brother’s door. Well, at least not since I sent Denise home as soon as I was finished with her.
“Shit.” I run over and grab my keys, not bothering to clean the place up, before I rush outside and lock up behind me.
There’s no way I’m letting her walk away from me in the middle of the night.
She’s barely made it through the parking lot before I pick her up and begin carrying her toward my truck. “Put me the hell down, Micah.”
Even though she continues to bark orders at me, I don’t set her down until I’m standing beside my truck. “I’m sorry I’m an asshole. We don’t have to talk on the way home, but I need you to get in so I can drive you.”
She looks me over, hesitating for a moment, before she climbs inside and slams the door shut behind her.
I guess being an asshole to keep her away is going to be harder than I expected, because I hate the way it felt just now watching her want to get away from me.
Everything inside of me was screaming to go after her, and that’s exactly what I did. Now I have to manage this drive home, pretending that I don’t want anything more than to kiss her and make sure she wants me and not Parker.
I want to be inside of her, reminding her of how it felt to have me take her.
Parker will never be able to make her feel the way I can, both mentally and physically.
He’s the good guy who will open doors for her and buy her flowers to make her smile.
I’m the asshole who will fuck her good and hard to show her how much I want her, and I’ll kick another guy’s ass for getting too close.
That’s exactly why I’m the one she should be staying away from.
A few minutes into the drive she looks over at me and speaks. I can tell from the tone of her voice that she’s trying to stay mad at me. “Why don’t you play any of the songs you’ve written when you perform? Or have you?”
“Just doesn’t feel right performing them anywhere other than a place I put a lot of heart and dedication into. I thought about playing one for the audience at Vortex during my first real performance way back, but the thought had me too anxious, so I chose a few random songs to get me through the night.”