“I didn’t plan on it as a career, but I love it,” she said.
He braced his arms on the table and leaned across. “I’ve watched your videos and read your blog. You’re amazing.”
Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “I know you did, because those gifts were hand-picked to perfection. Thank you for that.”
“Anything for you.”
The waitress returned and served their drinks, disappearing again without speaking.
Avery bent down. She pursed her lips around the straw and pulled a long sip of her drink, causing her throat to move up and down. He stared at her slender neck and the long expanse of skin, so enticing. He remembered kissing that soft spot above her collarbone, suckling hard and leaving a mark that she’d had to wear a scarf to cover. Otherwise her brothers would have come and beaten the shit out of him. He’d had that tendency to want to claim her even then.
He laughed at the memory, and her eyes flew to his. “What’s so funny?”
He met her gaze and grinned. “Just remembering something.”
“What?”
“The hickeys I used to give you and how hard you’d try to cover them to protect me from your brothers.”
She choked on the soda she’d just sipped. “Oh my God!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Grey!” she said, horrified.
“What?” He attempted to sound innocent. “If you’re drawing a blank, I’d be happy to refresh your memory.” He wanted to mark her again. In places that were far from her neck, like the sensitive skin on her thigh right before his tongue swiped her clit.
He clenched his jaw and shut off that train of thought.
Her cheeks had turned a healthy pink at the thought of old hickeys, and she met his gaze, her eyes darkening at the very idea he’d planted in her brain. Good. He wanted her as hot for him as he was for her. But no way was she ready for what he wanted to do to her now. His cock swelled thicker in his jeans. Yep. Nothing had changed in that area.
“Pizza’s here,” Tino said, bringing out the food himself. The waitress followed with plates and utensils, and then they were alone again.
While they ate, they talked. Grey kept the conversation neutral, telling her about his friends and band mates, about Milo and his ongoing stint in rehab. She explained how she’d lived with her sister until Olivia had married and Avery’s old friend Ella had moved in. Conversation was comfortable and easy with the occasional hint of sexual awareness thrown in for good measure.
He was doing a good job of convincing her that their chemistry was still intact when word spread that Grey Kingston was here.
They were interrupted by people from town who remembered him and fans who wanted autographs, friends from high school, people who knew Grey’s parents, an old math teacher … The list went on. And though Tino did his best to keep people moving on, Grey knew this came with the territory. It wouldn’t matter if he’d chosen a five-star restaurant or Tino’s for its memories, the fans would find him.
As much as he resented the intrusion, he understood that these people had made him who he was, given him the fame he’d sought and the money he’d needed to prove himself—to himself and to his long-dead father, Julius, who’d convinced him he’d never amount to anything, unlike his dad, a college professor, and Grey’s academic, brainiac sister, Julia, named after him, of course. Lucky for dear old dad, Julia lived up to the name. It wasn’t her fault Grey had never measured up in their father’s eyes. So though he might want a more normal life now, that didn’t negate what fame had meant to him. Still meant.
Despite wanting to be alone with Avery, he had obligations and catered to the fans. He talked, signed autographs, and took the requisite selfie … until finally Tino stood on a chair and yelled, “Show’s over. Give the man some privacy to be with his lady.”
The crowd dispersed slowly, and Grey glanced across the table. Avery sat curled into the corner of the booth, knees up, her sole focus on her phone. He didn’t know if she was texting, browsing, or what, but she definitely wasn’t happy.
Neither was he.
“Once people get used to the idea that I live here now, shit like this will die down.”
She shot him a disbelieving look.
Fuck. He slid from the booth, took out his wallet, and pulled out some bills, tossing them on the table. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” she asked.
“Somewhere completely private.”
* * *
From the minute Avery had lost Grey’s attention, she’d been ready to leave. Not because she was a child who couldn’t share her toy but because the influx of people into their private dinner had stirred up a mix of emotions. She still hated huge crowds and curled into herself at the thought of being surrounded by strangers—unlike Grey, who thrived on the attention. It didn’t matter how well they clicked, how easily they’d reconnected and shared information about their lives, how much she desired him, the chasm between them couldn’t be wider.
She vividly remembered walking out of the hospital after she’d donated her bone marrow, her mom tightly holding her hand, her father still inside with Sienna, when the flash of cameras had blinded her.