Instead, he twists around in a blur of motion, opens the passenger side door and slips inside like I invited him in.
“That’s not what I meant when I said move.”
Green eyes, hard as the coldest emeralds, stare unabashedly in my direction, his body angled along with them and in a car this small, it’s like he’s everywhere.
“How long have you been stalking me?”
“What?” bursts from my chest, and I twist to finally look at him, utterly incredulous and indignant. “Stalking you? Are you fucking high right now?”
“I saw you, Eden,” he accuses. “Upstairs. I saw your skinny ass hiding behind a plant like that would somehow cloak you from me. Hell, I smelled your weird perfume the moment we stepped out of the studio. So again, how long have you been stalking me?”
“How do you remember what perfume I wear?”
He cocks an impatient eyebrow at me, his eyes unapologetic as they demand my answer.
“God,” I snort out a strained laugh. “I seriously cannot stand you. You’re nothing but a loathsome, arrogant prick. Were you always like this and I just didn’t realize it? A boyband reject who doesn’t know he’s been kicked out of paradise. How disappointing.”
“Huh? That doesn’t even make sense. Eden—”
“I’m not stalking you, loser. I work here.”
He shakes his head like that makes no sense. “No. Keith would have told me. Lyric would have told me.”
I roll my eyes. “Why? Because you’re so big and important in my life that people have to report to you on what I do and where I work?”
He stares hard, nonplussed. Screw him.
“I’m still calling bullshit. What could you possibly do here at a record studio? And why this one if you’re not stalking me?”
The way he says that, with so little faith that I could actually do anything real…
My fists clench as I fight the swell of emotion his hurtful words drive up in me. “Get out of my car, Henry. I didn’t stalk you. Stalking implies interest and where you’re concerned, I have none.”
A confident smirk hits his lips as he takes me in. “We both know that’s a lie. But you didn’t answer my questions. I’m not going anywhere until I have some answers.” He sits back, getting comfortable, and right now, I just need him to go. It’s been a long week. A long couple of weeks.
And doing battle with Henry is exhausting.
“I’m an associate producer. I graduated with a degree in music production, which I know you know, so shut your shit about it not making sense that I work here. I’ve interned in New York for Turn Records every summer for the last four years, which I also know you know. So, a job here shouldn’t be all that much of a shock to you.”
“Why California? Why not New York again?”
My reasons for why California over New York are most definitely not something I want to discuss.
“My reasons are my own and they do not involve you,” I state flatly. “That said, Keith doesn’t know about my working here, though I have no doubt once you open your big, ugly mouth, he will. Lyric didn’t tell you punkholes because I asked her not to.”
“Why would you ask her not to?”
I growl out an aggravated breath. I just want him to go. I just want him to get out of my car so I won’t have to look at his face that unfortunately still makes my belly swoop in that annoyingly girlish way. So I won’t have to inhale the scent of his cologne that is earthy and spicy and infuriatingly wonderful.
Being insanely attracted to someone you loathe is the absolute worst.
“Last I checked, I’m a grown woman who doesn’t have to explain herself, her job, or her life choices to her brother or his lame friends. Now. Get. Out!”
He doesn’t move. Of course, he doesn’t.
In all the years I’ve known Henry Gauthier, he’s never once done anything I’ve wanted him to. I curse in frustration, running my hands through my hair.
He watches me intently, his voice softening. “If you didn’t want us to know where you work, why pick Turn Records? You had to know I would hear about this. That I would see you again, Eden.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
His eyes flitter about my face before he subtly shakes his head and redirects. “Keith’s been calling you. He’s worried. Why don’t you want him to know you’re here?”
I sigh, my forehead falling to the steering wheel, my eyes closing. “I don’t mean to make him worry. I didn’t realize he was. It’s just that sometimes being his little sister is exhausting. I want to be seen as Eden Dawson. Not Keith Dawson’s little sister.” I twist, opening my eyes to find him. “Can you understand that, Henry? I know you boys all think the world rotates because you’re living on it, but I’m tired of my professional world revolving around my relationship with Keith. I’m good at this job and I don’t want you or my brother or anyone else interfering or impacting it.”
His eyes do battle across my face. Like a triumphant warrior, plundering all he can as quickly as possible. Gentle fingers reach out and capture a lock of my purple hair and my breath hitches before I can stop it. He toys with the tresses, starting at my nose ring before dropping down to my dark-stained lips, black T-shirt, peek of my tattoos on my arm, and jeans.
“What happened to you, Eden?”
I push his hand away from my hair. “Since when do you care?” I bite out.
“I don’t. You just didn’t look like this the last time I saw you.”
I snort out a humorless laugh. “You mean when you didn’t recognize me? Yet, somehow, you did today. I’d call that a win but really I think that falls more into the loss category.”
He continues his inspection, but my accusation lit a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I hadn’t seen you in years. Not since you were a child. And let me tell you, that night, you didn’t look like a fucking child. So yeah, I didn’t know who you were when you came onto me—”
“When I came onto you?” I bark out, my voice loud, the sound carrying through the car. “Please, the second you walked into that club your eyes were all over me. Sort of how they’ve been since you got in my car today.”
His eyes scour over every inch of me, almost like he’s mocking me as they drag lazily, clinging on places like my legs, breasts, neck, and lips until he reaches my eyes once more. He licks his lips and clears his throat, but he doesn’t look away.
“I’m only staring because I’m shocked just how much you’ve changed. So again, what happened to you?”
I blow out a silent breath, trying to calm myself and my thundering heart down. Only that’s nearly impossible when I think about the last couple of months. “You’ve got it the wron. g way around. This is who I am.” My hands do a sweep over myself. “That other girl was not. If you don’t like it then I guess I did something right.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I’m just not sure I understand it.”
“Lucky ducky for me, I don’t need you to.”
The air in the car shifts. Grows even more unsettled. The Smiths play and our voices fall silent, but somehow the tension seems to grow instead of dissipating. He’s not getting out, if anything he’s ingratiating himself further into my space and head as he stares directly into my eyes with an intensity I feel everywhere. I can’t stand it. Any of it.