Free Lick: Stage Dive 1 by Kylie Scott Page B

it.
    “What happened next?” I asked.
    “Security came over to throw you out. Not like they were gonna argue with the rich kids.”
    “No. I guess not.”
    “You looked panicky so I got you out of there.”
    “You left your friends for me?” I watched him in amazement.
    He did a one-shoulder shrug. As if it meant nil.
    “What then?”
    “We took off and had a drink in another bar.”
    “I’m surprised you stuck with me.” Stunned was closer.
    “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. “You treated me like a normal person. We just talked about everyday stuff. You weren’t angling to get anything out of me. You didn’t act like I was a different fucking species. When you looked at me it felt …”
    “What?”
    He cleared his throat. “I dunno. Doesn’t matter.”
    “Yes, you do. And it does.”
    He groaned.
    “Please?”
    “Fuck’s sake,” he muttered, shifting around in the driver’s seat all uncomfortable-like. “It felt real, okay? It felt right. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
    I sat in stunned silence for a moment. “That’s a good way to explain it.”
    Suddenly, he got decidedly smirky. “Plus, I’d never been propositioned quite like that.”
    “Yeeeah. Okay, stop now.” I covered my face with my hands and he laughed.
    “Relax,” he said. “You were very sweet.”
    “Sweet?”
    “Sweet is not a bad thing.”
    He pulled the Jeep into a gas station, stopping in front of a pump. “Look at me.”
    I lowered my fingers.
    David stared back at me, beautiful face grinning. “You said that you thought I was a really nice guy. And that it would be great if we could go up to your room and have sex and just hang out for a while, if maybe that was something I’d be interested in doing.”
    “Ha. I have all the moves,” I laughed. There might have been more embarrassing conversations in my life. Doubtful, though. Oh, good God, the thought of me trying out my smooth seduction routine on David. He who had groupies and glamour models throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. If there’d been enough room under the car seat, I’d have hid down there. “What did you say?”
    “What do you think I said?” Without taking his gaze off me he popped the glove box and pulled out a baseball cap. “Looks like the restrooms are around the side.”
    “This is so mortifying. Why couldn’t you have forgotten too?”
    He just looked at me. The smirk was long gone. For a long moment he held my gaze captive, unsmiling. The air in the car seemed to drop by about fifty degrees.
    “I’ll be right back,” I said, fingers fumbling with the seatbelt.
    “Sure.”
    I finally managed to unbuckle the stupid thing, heart galloping inside my chest. The conversation had gotten crazy heavy toward the end. It had caught me unawares. Knowing he’d stood up for me in Las Vegas, that he’d chosen me over his friends … it changed things. And it made me wonder what else I needed to know about that night.
    “Wait.” He rifled among the collection of sunglasses, pulled out a pair of designer aviator shades and handed them to me. “You’re famous now too, remember?”
    “My butt is.”
    He almost smiled. He fit the baseball cap to his head and rested an arm on the steering wheel. The tattoo of my name was right there, in all its glory. It was pink around the edges and some of the letters had small scabs on them. I wasn’t the only one permanently marked by this.
    “See you in a bit,” he said.
    “Right.” I opened the door and slowly climbed out of the car. Tripping and landing on my ass in front of him must be avoided at all costs.
    I saw to the necessities then washed my hands. The girl in the restroom mirror looked wild-eyed and then some. I splashed water on my face and did a little damage control on my hair. What a joke. This adventure I was on was undoing any and all attempts at keeping control. Me, my life, all of it seemed to be in a state of flux. That shouldn’t have felt as strangely good as it