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“Seventeen?”
She shifted until her feet were on the floor and leaned forward, then propped her chin on her hands. “I’m past the acne years, West.”
“How far past?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just making sure I’m not getting arrested for what I’ve been thinking about doing with you.”
“Oh.” She sat back. “What did you want to do with me?”
He spread his fingers on the vinyl tablecloth, keeping the bottle between them. “I’ve had various scenarios in my head. Most include stripping you out of those tight black pants and seeing if your panties match your bra.”
She blinked owlishly. “And if they do?”
“I think they’d look especially good at the end of my bunk. Maybe dangling off your ankle.” He opened his bottle and took a drink.
Maybe she’d fess up about the situation with the guy she was with. If he was a friend, or a boyfriend, or something else. He’d gotten vibes from her that had brought out all his protective instincts, but maybe he was way off-base. Then again, plenty of women forgot they had someone in their life—good or not—when they had a chance to get a piece of a musician. Or thought they had a chance anyway.
“I would be amenable to that. If you don’t mind that I’m a virgin.”
He choked on the soda and it spurted from his nose.
She leaned to the side and snapped a few napkins out of the holder and handed them to him. “Unless that’s a problem?”
He wiped his face, then the table with another wad of napkins. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”
He didn’t even know if that canceled out his concerns about the guy she was with. If she was a virgin, they must not be dating. Or maybe they were and it was chaste.
Fuck, he didn’t know. He wanted to come out and ask, but she wasn’t done yet.
“Most say nothing. It’s usually the time most leave, or end the date. I hope we can have pizza first, though. I’m really hungry.”
“Well, if you blurt it out like that, I can see why.”
She laced her fingers around her sweating bottle. “It didn’t work out when I told the last man I was dating. He grabbed my boob, so I thought I should let him know before we went further.”
He let out a breath and tried to ignore the sudden twist in his chest about envisioning another man touching her. Any guy, whether it was the guy in the audience or this nameless last guy she’d dated. Maybe she and audience guy were just friends.
Hell, she could be lying to him about any or all of this. Even if his gut said otherwise.
For fuck’s sake, he didn’t even know her. And even bigger problem—virgin.
Virgin.
What in the sweet hell?
“So is that why you kept sneaking backstage?” No fucking way. “You wanted…me?”
“Well, I wasn’t particular about anyone in the band actually.” She bit her lip and tapped the top of her bottle. “I’ve been to about a dozen shows. Some didn’t even include Warning Sign.”
“Excuse me?” He capped his bottle before he accidentally knocked it over. If she tossed another bomb his way, he wanted to be ready. “You just wanted someone in a band to pop your cherry?”
“What?” She tipped her head with a frown. “No.” She laughed. “No, I was doing research.”
Research? He didn’t have time to swallow that before she steamrolled on.
She untwisted her top and took a sip from her soda. “This is a whole different thing. You’re just attractive and I would very much like to see if you could do what other men—actually, even me, to be completely honest—have not been able to do.”
