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But at least Dex doesn’t go out looking for hookups on the band’s nights off. He never has a girl on his lap in the green room either. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him lay even a single finger on a woman, not in the whole time I’ve been with Run Along Ruby on this tour.
I definitely would have noticed, too.
I’d have gnawed through my own tongue with jealousy.
“Evening.” The guitarist rumbles out a low greeting, nodding at Tudor as he crosses the room. He’s dressed in black jeans and a charcoal shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show his inked forearms, and his shoulders and hair are spotted with rain.
I swallow hard, stealing a glance at Jefferson before looking back to Dex.
My father didn’t see me staring at his friend. I could probably strip off my shirt and leap into the guitarist’s arms and still get no reaction. I’m not sure he’ll ever really notice me.
“Hey, baby girl.” The sofa dips under Dex’s weight as he settles at my side, and I feel myself blush crimson. He smells like spice and windswept city streets.
He started calling me that a week ago, and he cracked a rare smile when he saw how much I liked it. Now I’m always baby girl to Dex Kincaid.
“You had enough to eat? Don’t let these hyenas scare you away.”
I hold up my pizza slice. “I’m on it.”
Dex doesn’t smile, exactly, but his dark eyes crinkle at the corners. They trail down my body as he rumbles, “Good girl.”
Yeesh.
I wish I could tug at the neckline of my sweater and fan my cheeks, but Dex is watching me. Always watching. If Jefferson paid me even a fraction of the attention that his band mate does, I could safely tell my mom that she got him all wrong.
As it is, I haven’t answered her emails in over a week.
I don’t want to hear her anger and bitterness, because I’m not ready to face it myself yet.
“That’s bullshit,” Tudor states at something Jefferson just said, my father leaning back and cackling with laughter. “You’ve got shit taste in music, old man. You’re lucky Dex writes the Run Along Ruby songs.”
“You do?” I blink at the mountain of a man beside me. He crooks a thick eyebrow, watching me out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah. Is that such a surprise?”
“No!” I wave my free hand, blushing even harder. “No, it’s not a surprise. Obviously not. It’s just cool, that’s all. I wish I could write like that.”
Dex scowls at the pizza boxes. “You already do, London. I read those articles you mentioned last week. You’re talented.”
Oh, wow.
Okay, I mentioned those freelance articles once in passing. It was a throwaway comment made to the room, and I didn’t think anyone was even listening. Dex read them?
There’s another burst of raucous laughter, and suddenly I don’t want to be in this hotel suite. I want to get away from these bright lights and the smell of smoke and pizza grease and my father’s glassy eyes. I want to feel fresh air on my face and blend into the shadows beneath the stars.
It’s a strange city. It’d be dumb to go alone.
I chew on my bottom lip for a heartbeat, then ask before I can chicken out. “Will you go for a walk with me?”
Dex straightens, and the sofa tips me toward him. I catch myself with my forearm against his huge bicep.
And I fully expect him to say no. He clearly just got back from a walk of his own, and it’s raining outside, and he probably hasn’t eaten yet. Why would Dex Kincaid, famous rock god with his whole life figured out, want to go for a walk with me?
But: “Always,” he grinds out, pushing to his feet and offering me a big hand. “Always, baby girl.”
His calluses rub against my fingertips as he helps me upright.
Oh, lord. Hopefully one day these tiny touches won’t make my head spin.
