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“The view is good. Come on in the living room and relax. Maegan will let me know when she’s done.”
“Thanks,” I replied, and against my better judgment, I followed him into the next room.
Kiro was sitting down on a white leather sectional that was so big that it took up most of the room. His feet were propped up on a large, round ottoman big enough for several people to put their feet on. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and a beer was resting on his leather-clad thigh.
Whereas Dean looked like a rocker, Kiro screamedrock starin his choice of clothing, hair, swagger, everything. He could never look normal. The fact that he was a grandfather made the magazines and news regularly. Kiro did not look or act like a grandfather. His clothes were flashy and unlike anything a regular person would wear.
“Was it your apartment that had the fire?” Kiro asked me as I sat down at the opposite end of the sectional.
I shook my head. “It was my neighbor’s.”
Kiro cut his eyes to Dean. “The neighbor must not be a hot piece of ass.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”
Kiro looked offended or surprised. “What?”
“You know what,” Dean drawled, leaning back and resting his left ankle on his right knee.
“The fuck I do. I was just stating facts,” he replied, pointing his beer bottle at me. “She’s a smokeshow, and she has a nice set of—”
“Kiro,” Dean snapped, his voice louder now.
“Tits, sugar. You got some real nice tits, and Dean loves some fucking big titties.”
“Jesus, can you not be normal ever?” Dean asked, disgusted.
“This is normal. It’s life. She’s a hot piece of young ass with big tits, and you want to be buried between those thighs so bad—”
“Out,” Dean said, standing up and pointing toward a different door than the one we had entered. “Now. Go see Lila Kate. Go be a fucking normal grandfather. Just go.”
Kiro laughed and slowly stood up. “Fine. Be someone you’re not. Pretend you’re not after a hot fuck. She’ll figure it out soon enough. So will Maegan for that matter. Better watch Maegan’s claws. I have proof they’re as sharp as motherfucking knives.”
Dean sighed and shook his head. “Bye, Kiro.”
Kiro winked at me again. “See you around, sugar.” Then, he sauntered toward the door Dean had pointed to without a backward glance.
I wondered if Dean was the only person in the world who could get away with talking to Kiro Manning like that.
I glanced up at Dean, who was scowling and using one hand to massage his temples before meeting my gaze for a brief moment, then sitting back down on the sofa.
“Sorry about him. That’s just how he is.”
“He’s a rock star,” I said.
Dean chuckled after a moment, then looked at me. “But I’m not?”
I lifted one shoulder. “Yes, but it’s not your persona. Kiro is the bad boy. The face of the band. He’s known for his crude behavior. You’re not. You’re known for your talent on the drums and for being a good dad despite your job. Although I’m positive you’ve had your own bad behavior, you just don’t flaunt it.”
I was surprised I’d said all that. It was true, but it sounded almost as if I were defending him. I wasn’t. I also didn’t want him to know just how much I knew about Slacker Demon. About him.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me.
“Are you a Slacker Demon fan, Brielle?” he asked me.
My gaze dropped down to my soda, and I fidgeted with the top of it. How was I going to handle this? With honesty? Lies? Tell part of the truth?
After a brief internal debate, I lifted my gaze to meet his. “I was once.” There. That was the truth.
