It was time to let loose.
Lotus
“Let me get that door for you.”
Journey jogged around the black hood. His muscular body was like a Greek statue, only clothed and in motion. Looking at him seemed to make time slow while it also made my heart race. He was very much alive with warmth I could feel, and an enticing scent that eluded me in the outside air. His gaze swept over me as he opened the passenger door for me.
“Thanks,” I murmured, unable to ignore the warm shiver his scan induced. I brushed against him climbing in. The shiver became a shake that made my legs tremble.
“You’re welcome.” He closed the door and retraced his steps around the hood while I watched. His confident, ambling stride was a watch-worthy event.
“What kind of vehicle is this?” I asked as he climbed in.
“An International Harvester Scout.” He clicked his seat belt without glancing at me.
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s old.” He cranked the key. “But it has seat belts. Put yours on.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I reached back to find it and clicked it on, experiencing another pleasurable shiver at the knowledge he was looking out for me. I ran my gaze over the dash, noting the gleam of the metal. The leather underneath me was plush. “It looks new. It’s nice. And it’s comfortable.”
“I like making old things work. Some of the best things I know are in the past.”
Journey gave me a long look, something processing behind his eyes. I didn’t know what, but it seemed significant.
“I guess I prefer new,” I said. There were a lot of losses in my past.
He turned his head, his features sharper than they’d been a moment before. Did I say something wrong?
There was something here between us. At least, on my side. I certainly didn’t want to upset him.
I licked my lips, trying again. “Did you buy it like it is now or restore it?”
“I found it half-buried in a lady’s backyard, bought it for almost nothing, and restored it. No way could I afford one that had already been done. Especially nowadays.”
His response gave me a lot to be curious about. What lady? How long had it taken him to fix it up? Where had the process taken place?
But I just asked, “Why especially now?”
“A model like this one is featured on a popular television series.”
“Oh. I don’t watch much TV.”
“Me either.” Journey shifted to get the vehicle in motion and followed the sedan. “If not television,” he turned on his blinker, “what do you do in your spare time?”
I hugged my bag to my chest. “I don’t have much spare time.”
“Why not?” he asked, steering the Harvester onto the freeway.
“I work a lot. I’m kinda on my own.” Kinda meaning completely when it comes to being the responsible adult.
As we picked up speed, my hair started blowing around all over the place. I grabbed a handful of it and secured it into a ponytail with an elastic band I wore around my wrist.
“You’re not in college?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“No.” I shook my head. “I never went. Too expensive.”
He gave me another sharp glance. “Couldn’t your da—parents help you with expenses?”
“No.” I swallowed hard, my eyes immediately burning. “My parents are both gone.”
“Where are they?” His gaze narrowed, and I could feel the intensity within it, boring into me from the side this time, rather than from behind.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” Staring straight ahead, my vision blurred. The sheen over it came from an inescapable sadness. The hardest events in my life to accept were the unchangeable ones.
“All right,” he said after a lengthy pause. “So, you’re a working girl, bartending for Ashland Keys?”
“I bartend for him for special events. But I do other stuff for him too. For Outside, I mean.”
“Such as?”
“Plants. I take care of the ones at the studio, and bring in and arrange temporary ones for the label’s launch events. I have a contract to care for the plants at his penthouse too.”
“You like plants?”
“Yes, I do. That’s what I meant about new. I like planting seeds, watching them grow into something beautiful that wouldn’t have existed without my care.”
Giving them the right amount of sunlight, water, and nutrients yielded a certain predictable result. I liked feeling like I made a difference, and that I had control over something in my life.
“I like plants too,” he said. “Reminds me of . . . well, you’re right about the taking care of something. Easier, more predictable results with plants than people, for sure.”
“What about you?” I asked, breathless from questions that felt targeted, like an interrogation. “Where are your parents?”
“I’m not close with my parents.” A mask slammed down over his features, one made of impenetrable steel.
“Not close because they live far away, or because you choose to be distant from them?” I put the question out there and braced, expecting him not to answer.
“Both.” His teeth were clenched so tight, a muscle jumped in his jaw. “I don’t have any contact with my family at all.”
“Oh.” My eyes filled. “That’s sad.” It was hard to imagine choosing not to be with your family if you had them, and they wanted to be with you.
“In my situation, it’s for the best for everyone involved.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel, and I wondered if what he said was true.
“What do you do in your spare time?” I asked to change the subject.
“Work, surf, band practice.”
“Work with your guitar?” I’d already seen the surfboard and realized he had a hobby that matched mine.
“Yes.” He nodded. “I do a lot of studio stuff. It pays pretty well.”
“Studio stuff for Ash?” I asked, wondering why I’d never seen Journey at Outside before.
“Not him, no. But people he knows. That’s how the Skulls got added to the lineup tonight.”
“Ah.” My eyes widened. It really was who you knew. In music, like most things.
“Ah, as in that’s good?” His brows rose. “Or—”
“Good. Ash is picky. Your band is good. Your voice is compelling, and you’re amazing on lead guitar.”
“Thank you.” His voice went the type of low that made me imagine intimate things. “But Black Skulls isn’t my band. It’s Reese’s. I’m not a full-time member, just filling in for their regular guy.”
“Where is their regular guitarist?”
“Dirt-bike accident. Broke his wrist.”
“That sucks.”
“It did for him, but it’s good for me.” Journey flicked on his blinker again, following the sedan. “I needed the extra cash, and I met you.”
Whoa. I glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring straight ahead, though the road was surprisingly empty. Was he avoided my gaze like I’d been avoiding his earlier?