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His brows drew together. “Not sure why you’d think that. It’s not like I go on tour for a year or some shit. I’m not on the road for longer than four months at a time. And I recently finished a tour, so I won’t be going on another for a while. Plus, I’m on a break now anyway. All I’ll be doing is writing and recording.”
As our arrangement would likely be over before he hit the road again, I supposed we wouldn’t need to reevaluate this at a later point. A thought that made my stomach hurt even more.
Shoving all that aside, I cocked my head. “Any other conditions you have in mind?”
“Yeah. I got no problem with us having a meal at the lounge before we go play. But there’ll be no dating.”
Given his general dislike for social situations, I wasn’t sure I believed that he’d truly have ‘no problem’ with us having meals at the lounge. Whatever the case … “Fine with me. I don’t like going on dates.”
His brow creased. “You don’t?”
“There’s no way to relax. You know that someone somewhere will be snapping pictures, and you know that the tabloids will build a rumor around the photos. So it’s hard to unclench and be yourself—you feel too much on your guard for that. And I kind of go into dating with low expectations anyway.”
“Why?”
“I’m so used to things not working out. I’ve never really built anything with anyone. Usually, one of two things will happen—either the guy gets annoyed by how he loses his right to privacy, or he finds it hard to trust me because I’m smack bam in the middle of a world where there’s temptation everywhere. I almost always get accused of cheating, which has never been true. Or fair, since I’ve given them no reason to not trust me.”
He gave a knowing nod. “Makes you feel like it’s not worth putting in the effort, doesn’t it?” he said, and a look of perfect understanding passed between us.
“Yes, it does.” I paused. “Anyway, yeah, I’m good with us not meeting up outside the Vault. With that in mind … if Judy tries inviting you to dinner, which wouldn’t mean anything, she just assumes everyone who lives alone is lonely”—ha, lies—“don’t be rude about it when you decline.”
The line between his brows deepened slightly. “You say it like I get my kicks out of bullying senior citizens.”
“I don’t think you get kicks out of being rude to anyone, I think you simply don’t bother being polite or friendly. Mostly because you’d rather not talk to people. Be socially lazily all you want. But if you see Judy, treat her with respect and don’t be mean to her in an effort to make her go away—it won’t kill you.”
He grunted. “Fine. Now, back to the terms of our arrangement. We exchange phone numbers, but we only contact each other if the subject matter is the club.”
“Good. I don’t need you sending me funny memes and kissing emojis because you miss me. Oh my God, you nearly smiled. That’s like, wow, I didn’t know you could do that.”
He gave me a stony glare that was ruined by the light of humor in his eyes.
“Any other demands, old timer?”
“Yes. You can stop calling me ‘old timer.’”
I gave him a sympathetic smile. “That’s not gonna happen, sorry.” I leaned forward. “I have a couple of conditions of my own. One, what happens between us, any personal stuff we share with each other, stays between us.”
That perceptive gaze narrowed slightly. “Used to guys from your past blabbing to tabloids, are you?”
“Farmore acquainted with that shit than I care to be.”
“I’m fine with this condition. I like my personal business to remain private.”
I’d noticed that in the past, but I’d wanted to stipulate it anyway. “My last condition is simple.” And an absolute deal breaker for me. “You said you don’t share. Neither do I. By that, I mean I’m not interested in asking other club members to come play with us.”
I had nothing against group sex. I had something against watching Kaiser with another woman. There were rumors that he was into threesomes, so I wanted to be clear upfront.
“If that’s a problem for you, say so now,” I told him.
“I got no issue with it. I don’t want to involve anyone else.”
Relief tumbled through me. I sank back into the sofa. “Then it’s settled.” And now, wow, now I had a claim to this man. An actual, honest to God’s claim. Gah, it was just … again, wow.
He gave a slow, satisfied nod. “And you’ll be at the Vault tomorrow night?” He looked at the clock, noted the time, and amended, “Well, tonight.”
“Yes. The only reason I didn’t show up earlier is that I’m shattered. I wanted to have a lazy evening that consisted of a bath, wine, and a movie.”
He gave the TV a sideways glance. “What are you watching?”
