“Tell me what’s really wrong.” He rests his hip against the counter next to me.
Once my hands are clean, I turn off the water, dry my hands, and throw the paper towel in the trash before my gaze moves to his. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m tired, so if it’s okay with you I’m gonna leave now.” I hate to go before the concert’s over, but I’m so done with this night.
He pushes off the counter and moves toward me. “I get it, you don’t want to tell your old man about what’s going on in your life, but always remember that I love you, and I’m here if you need me.” He pulls me in for a hug, and I slowly wrap my arms around him. I fight back the tears because . . . hell, I don’t even know why I’m so emotional. He kisses the top of my head then squeezes me tight. “I don’t know if the Velvet Dolls breaking up has you worried and upset, but things will get better, I promise,” he says softly.
I pull away from the embrace and tilt my head back, looking up at him. The spiteful girl inside me wants to tell him the Velvet Dolls are not breaking up and he needs to mind his own business, but I don’t say either of those things because me being rude won’t make either of us feel better.
I force a smile. “I’m not worried,” I lie. The only time I allowed my thoughts to leave the possible breakup of the Velvet Dolls was when I was being a bitch to the blond in the hall, but I refuse to even think about him. I grab my things from the counter and move toward the door.
“You’re staying at the apartment tonight, right?” he asks as I reach for the door handle.
I roll my eyes, but luckily, he’s looking at my back, so he doesn’t see the irritation on my face. “Yes. I already told you that, remember?”
“Gracie, sweetheart, give your old man a break. My memory isn’t what it used to be.” He chuckles, and I smile because he called me Gracie. He’s always been a stickler about calling me by my “given name”, so when he slips up and calls me by my preferred name, I want to laugh, because secretly he knows I’m more of a Gracie than a Grace Ann.
“I realize I get on your nerves, but I am your father, and part of my job is to worry about your safety.”
I spin around to find him standing in front of me. “You don’t get on my nerves.” It’s the second time I’ve lied to him tonight. Him treating me like a child actually irritates the shit out of me.
“I hear it in your voice, and I’m also fairly certain you rolled your eyes at me a few seconds ago when I couldn’t see your face, but all the eye-rolling in the world isn’t going to stop me from caring.”
“I know, but just remember, I’m twenty-six and not twelve, so I’ll continue to make my own decisions whether you agree with them or not.” I rise up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek. “Good night, Daddy.” I turn away from him, walk through the bathroom door, and head toward the bar.
Seven
Gracie
I’m standing outside the bar, minding my own business as I patiently wait for my Uber to arrive so I can go home, get some sleep, and start over again tomorrow, when a familiar male voice sounds from behind me.
“Ah, we meet again.”
I swing around, and there he is in all his godlike glory wearing that sexy-as-sin smirk. He moves in next to me, and I hit him with an evil glare. “So, what? Now you’re stalking me?”
“Why are you so pissed? I thought we shared something . . .” His smirk morphs into an even sexier grin. “. . . special earlier tonight.” He laughs softly before leaning in near my ear. His breath is heavy and warm as it dances lightly over my skin.
My heart skips a beat, and every single hormone in my body races out of control.
“Have you already forgotten how good it felt to be so close to me? Or how it felt when you pressed your hands against my chest?”
I’m flustered and frustrated with myself. I want to shut my brain down, because right now my thoughts are spiraling out of control. The memory of being up close and personal with his skin earlier tonight sends a shiver racing down my spine. This guy is super sexy—too sexy for his own good—and all I want to do is rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean . . .” Dammit! I can’t even form a complete sentence. He’s too close to me, and it’s really messing with my head. I suck in a deep breath then take a step away from him. Break the connection, Gracie. That’s the only way to pull your shit together. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at the concrete wall across the street from where I’m standing, hoping if I ignore him, he’ll go away. It’s not that I really want him to go away, but maybe with some distance I can regain my bearings and function like an adult instead of some giddy, hormone-ridden teenager.
He laughs again before moving in behind me and gently brushing my hair away from my ear. “What happened to the mean girl from earlier tonight? I really liked her . . . a lot.”
I close my eyes and take in his scent. It’s earthy, sensual, almost exotic. He smells so damn good. Shit! Why does this asshole of a guy turn me on so much?
“She’s still here, just giving you enough rope to hang yourself with.” Giving you enough rope to hang yourself with—what does that even mean? God, I’m such an idiot, a very uncool idiot, and it’s obvious that somewhere between me being a mean girl in the dimly lit hallway and now, I’ve completely lost my mojo.
He takes in an audible breath, and I look over my shoulder at him. Deep blue eyes stare back at me.
“What do you want?” I ask as I slowly turn to face him.
“What do I want?” His gaze never leaves mine.
“Yeah, what do you want from me?” The loaded question hangs between us as he leans in closer.
“Hmm . . . if you don’t know the answer to that question, I must be doing something wrong.” He grins, and I smile back at him, because he’s breaking me down in a good way.
“Trust me, you’re doing everything right,” I say softly.
“Wait a minute . . . did the mean girl just give me a compliment?” he asks teasingly.
When I walked through the door of this bar tonight, I’d already decided I was going to have a one-night stand with an average guy, but this guy is far from average. He’s arrogant and sexy and is taking me so far out of my comfort zone that it makes me nervous.
“Maybe.” I look away for a beat before bringing my gaze back to his.
“Maybe, huh? I’ll take it.” His blue eyes dance with mischief as he touches my hair again, gently tucking it behind my ear. Heat rushes to my face and goose bumps dance across my skin.
“I’m about to head out. Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asks, and that cocky smirk is back, taunting and teasing me, asking me so much more than whether or not I need a ride.
“Where are you going?” My gut fills with butterflies as the question falls from my lips.
He leans in close. “Cancel your car and find out.” His words are soft, almost a whisper, nothing alluring about them, but my body reacts like he just offered to fuck me against the building in the alley behind the bar.
“Are you offering to take me somewhere quiet where we can be alone . . . so you can chop me up into tiny pieces and toss me into the river?” I laugh because I’m kidding. Well, sort of.