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“If I don’t trust him, I shouldn’t be with him. I should definitely not be having babies with him. The music scene is tiny and everyone’s a huge gossip. I guess that’s a third piece of advice. If you hook up with someone, everyone on the scene will know about it. Some guys have bigger mouths than others. Just keep your ear to the ground. You’ll know which ones are which. Call me if you need anything. I have years of dealing with these guys. Keep them preoccupied. Remember, they’re like children.”
“So give them someone else’s tit?” I joke.
“That’s the spirit,” she encourages.
As she packs up Jack’s paraphernalia, I want to ask her to sit down and tell me more about Adam. Where does he fall? In the loudmouth category? Is he a manwhore like Davis?
I don’t ask any of these questions, though, because that would violate rule number one.
Don’t catch feelings for Adam Rees.
Chapter Eight
Landry
On the Road
The band’s been brainstorming their set list. Adam and Davis have their guitars out and they’ve been playing on and off for the better part of the trip so far. They didn’t exactly kick me out but they weren’t welcoming, either. So I came up front to sit with the bus driver, Ed, who gave me a dirty look when I attempted to move stuff off the passenger seat.
I abandoned that idea, sat my ass down at the little banquette behind the driver, and pulled out my laptop. While May’s been traveling around the world, I’ve been noodling around with a small bit of code to develop a ride share app for women. Since it’s not something I’m passionate about, it’s hard to stay interested.
What intrigues me is about thirty feet away. I thought the bus would seem claustrophobic, but instead it’s too long. There’s too much space between me and Adam Rees. Oh yeah, I shouldn’t think that way since I’m not supposed to fall for him, but…it’s been so long since I’ve felt even a flutter of attraction that I can’t help wanting to fan it.
Marrow’s stalking did a number on me, scarring me mentally and making me wary of all penis owners. A boatload of therapy has helped, but I haven’t met anyone who moved me. I guess it’s not surprising that a guy who Berry said could tempt a nun to sin is the one who catches my eye.
My therapist would probably say that’s because he’s unattainable and therefore a safe focus for my crush. He’s not going to like me back, let alone develop an unhealthy obsession for me.
Sooooo…crushing on him isn’t a bad thing, right? It’s the opposite, really. I won’t take it to the next level. I’ll keep it to myself and enjoy the flutters in my stomach and the way that his presence makes me both hot and cold. And maybe at night, when the band is bedded down for the night, I can play out a few fantasies. That wouldn’t hurt anyone.
As long as I keep it to myself, my little secret won’t have any effect on Davis.
“What’s the smile for?”
I jerk up my head to see Adam leaning against the small kitchen counter. A smile lurks at the corners of his mouth. My heart rate speeds up and my face grows hot. He definitely notices the latter, because the smile gets broader.
Stupid pale skin. Every bit of awkwardness I experience is broadcast across my stupid face.
“Nothing.” I try for nonchalant and gesture toward the screen. “Just a piece of code.”
He saunters over. “Must be an interesting set of commands you’re writing if it gets you this worked up.” He reaches out and tucks a bit of my hair behind my ear.
If possible, I blush even harder. My heart is thumping so loud, he must be able to hear it. “Um, what can I say?” I stammer awkwardly. “Code turns me on.” Oh God. Code turns me on? This is my idea of flirting?
He rubs a few strands of my hair between his fingers before letting it fall back to my shoulder. “I get it. You’re passionate about your work. I get lost in my work, too.”
He’s so close to me that his hip is rubbing against my shoulder. If I turned my head, I could probably lick his zipper. It takes so much effort not to turn my head. So. Much. Effort.
This never happens to me. I’m a computer geek—I don’t go around fantasizing about licking a guy’s zipper. This attraction to Adam is starting to freak me out. It hasn’t abated at all since the night at the bar.
“Uh huh,” is all I can manage as I blindly stare at the computer screen. Since I don’t trust myself not to touch him, I pin my hands under my thighs.
There’s a moment of silence, then I swear I hear a small sigh before he backs away. “I came out to tell you we’re stopping in about fifteen minutes at a gas station. It’s a big one and has a restaurant, bathrooms. Take your time. We aren’t playing until tomorrow.”
I give a small nod, unsure what to say.
There’s another beat of silence before he moves off. I wait until I hear the swoosh of the door, a sound I missed when he first came in, before pulling my hands out from under my legs.
I should’ve spent more time in clubs than in the computer lab.
