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I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t be obtuse. You could have warned me. Given me some sort of information about this before you just sprung this all on me.”
He stepped into my space, drawing me closer to him. “They’re just my mates. Nothing special about them except for the famous part. Ian’s usually got more paint on him than Zoe because he’s forever getting into her stuff. He’s annoying and overwhelming.”
“Famous.”
“Just a guy.”
“You’re famous too.”
He set his guitar next to him on the gravel. “In certain circles, yes.”
“In certain…” I spun away from him and headed for the grove.
“Everything okay?” Ian called after me.
I couldn’t even pretend to know how to answer. No, everything was not okay.
Not knowing anything about Rory had been a thrill—at first anyway. Now I couldn’t help wondering if he’d been laughing at me the entire time.
“Ivy.” Surprise laced his voice.
I kept on walking. Better that than to kick him in the shin or somewhere slightly more soft.
He caught my hand and tried to turn me around, but I wrenched it away. “I need a minute.”
“You’re not going to stomp off like a two-year-old.”
I whirled around. “What you think this is, some sort of tantrum? You lied to me.”
“I did not.”
“You were not forthcoming with details. Was it fun to kick it with a small-town girl who didn’t know any better? Did you get off on that?”
“What? No.”
The quick flash of horror on his face mollified me slightly. The hurt couldn’t quite be fixed. And it shouldn’
t hurt. He shouldn’t matter that much. Which meant I was in so much more trouble than I’d thought.
Being attracted to him was one thing, but this?
The rush of emotion choked me and tears burned. Nope, I would not let him see me cry. I ran deeper into the grove of trees full of their pink and white spring blooms.
Rory’s longer stride passed me and he came around in front of me. He grasped my upper arms. “Christ, don’t cry.”
I shook my hair forward, so very glad I didn’t have my braids in today. “I’m not crying about you.”
“Then why?”
I tried to shake him off again. Mostly because I wanted to bury my face in his chest so much. His leather and just pure male scent was addictive. I couldn’t tell you what the scent was exactly, but it made me want to crawl into him and stay. “Because I’m mad. I cry when I’m angry and it’s very inconvenient.”
When he laughed, I punched him in the gut and walked around him.
“No, I’m not laughing at you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
He raised his voice. “I don’t want you to be pissed off. I just want you with me. I wanted you to meet my people. I have very few of them.”
