Free The Purest Hook (Second Circle Tattoos) by Scarlett Cole Page B

deal.”
    The idea of Dred naked caused a fire to burn through her, setting her ablaze. “I’m scheduled to close on Saturday, but I can be on the first flight Sunday morning.”
    “I’ll book you a ticket when I get off the phone.”
    “No,” she replied. “I don’t need you to buy it for me.”
    “I know you don’t, but I want to. Think of it as the rock star equivalent of chocolates.”
    “Fine, but so you know, this isn’t how it’s always going to go.” There was no need to spend his money on her when she had funds of her own.
    “I hear you, Snowflake. See you Sunday.”
    Snowflake.
She liked it. “Good-bye, Dred.”
    Pixie disconnected and smiled. The tightening in her stomach was a mix of excitement and nerves. Understandable in the circumstances.
    Her goofy smile in place, she turned to go back into the shop when a motion caught the corner of her eye. She stopped and watched as a man shifted on the other side of the street. Head down, he turned and walked toward the corner, his back to her. For one second her heart stopped, plummeted, before beating faster. What if it was Arnie? Pixie shook her head. He had a few pounds on Arnie, and less hair. And while the clothes were the same, the slight limp wasn’t. It had been years since she’d seen him outside of her dreams. The man turned to face her just as a delivery truck hurtled down the street, blocking her view.
    Yet once the van had passed and the road empty again, the man was no longer there.
    * * *
    “So I have no choice?” Dred looked out over Runyan Canyon. The L.A. house had all the warmth and personality of a subway station. But the view and the trails that weaved their way around it were something else. Those small pockets of beauty in L.A. were hard to come by, and were usually surrounded on all sides by bloated commercialism and people with overinflated egos.
    “We now have a legal request to surrender for a paternity test. If you respond now, the mother has agreed she won’t make it public.” Sam sat on the white leather sofa wearing a burgundy suit. He swirled the solitary ice cube in his single malt like an extra from
Mad Men
.
    “Let me think about it,” Dred said, stepping away from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
    “You can think all you want, Dred, but she has photographs of that night. Compromising ones. Not sex-tape stuff, but clearly the two of you getting it on.”
    “Fuck.” Dred pressed his forehead to the glass. This was so not what he needed right now. He couldn’t possibly be a father. Safety was his number-one priority as far as sex was concerned. With the kind of childhood he’d had, he was starting to think that procreating was not for him. In all good consciousness, he couldn’t bring a child into the world and saddle them with the kind of father he’d be. Keeping his anger in check was a daily thing, and a child would only exacerbate his lack of control.
    Playing
Daddy Day Care
would certainly mess up his plan of focusing the shit out of his career. Seven more years of writing, performing, investing, and saving. There’d be no slowing down until he was certain he’d never want for anything the rest of his life. Memories from his past spurred him on to his goals. Like walking to school in deep winter snow wearing sneakers because his mom never had the money for boots.
    “Look, I’m sorry, Dred. But if you lead the kind of lives you guys do, then these things—”
    “Shut up, Sam.” He didn’t need to hear a moral lecture. “I’m going to shower and get ready for tonight’s pantomime.”
    He headed for his room, and entered the en-suite bathroom. The shower had a million and one settings, but he always used the exact same one. Hot. As hot as his skin could stand.
    Once undressed, he stood under the steaming spray. Why the hell were they even going to a pop awards show anyway? Another messed-up publicity stunt by Sam to keep them current? Because, yeah, showing up at these events would find them a new