If it wasn’t for the bargain, she wouldn’t be long finished her muffin and coffee and they’d still be at the motel, kissing, talking, pretending neither of them wanted to be inside the other as close as they could get, that this was something they could do again without hurting each other. If Jay wasn’t easily recognizable, and she didn’t care about his professional reputation, she’d be up for their brand of sex in the open air of this little park.
She didn’t want to fall for him again, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about him.
She watched him eat the last of his McMuffin. He hadn’t answered her question about his intentions for the day, just gave her the finger. Same finger he’d jammed inside her vibe ring and used so devastatingly on her body. Thinking about it made her squirm on the hard bench seat.
Having him sit behind her on the bike did gut-swirling things to her too. Her bum was basically in his lap. At one point, stopped at traffic lights, he’d slipped his hands over her thighs to grasp inside her legs and hold her body to his. She’d felt his hardness. If she didn’t fear dropping the bike on the way to the hotel, she’d have dared him to touch her nipples.
That’s why the impossibly dumb, inconceivably difficult no-kissing rule had to stay because there was nothing stopping her falling into a relationship with him again and doing that had changed the course of her life. She wasn’t ready to change it again.
“Do you have to work tonight?” he asked, scrunching up their rubbish.
“Are you trying to maneuver me into a corner so when you ask me to stay with you I sound like a monster when I say no?”
He grinned, all adorably floppy-haired from the helmet. “I would never be that Machiavellian.”
That was a line, but it was also true. Jay wasn’t a manipulator. Mind-fucking was a Tice family-core competency. An age-old talent that every generation had improved on. That’s why her bros were always arguing, each of them trying to get one up on the other. Grip had always been violently neutral territory as a survival strategy and Jay had always been disgustingly honest. She kicked his foot under the table. He’d been disgustingly honest when he’d said they needed to break up.
“Yes, I have to work tonight. I have a band playing most weekend nights.”
He pointed at himself. “This is the face of a grown man who wants to pout like a five-year-old but knows that isn’t cute.”
It might be cute.
“Can I come with?”
She raised a hand to stop him talking but he took hold of it and wrapped it in his own. “Is it impossible? I don’t want to make your life harder, but I don’t want to give up time with you either. Venue inspection Monday, technical rehearsal Tuesday and Wednesday, first show Thursday night and a show nearly every night for the next ten weeks. Between your sch
edule and mine, and with the travel, there won’t be a lot of time to be together and I’m not okay about that.”
“That’s not my problem.” She wanted to bite her own tongue off. It was the wrong thing to say, unnecessarily defensive. Why did she have to be so prickly?
He frowned but didn’t let her hand go. “Okay.” He brought their hands to his lips and kissed her palm. “I misread things. I’ll cool it.”
“What would we do with the rest of the weekend?” They couldn’t have lip-kissless non-penetrative sex the whole time, but when they weren’t doing that they were impatient, easy to rile and snippy with each other.
“Not kiss you like I want to.”
Just like that. “That’s not a cool answer.”
He twined their fingers together. “Not come inside you.”
“Not helping your cause.”
“I didn’t start it with the rules and you don’t need an answer because you’re making it clear it’s not going to happen.”
“You’re pouting.” It was a little cute.
He tapped the back of her hand against his forehead. “You can’t tell me what we did wasn’t great and you don’t want more?” The frustration in his voice was an off note that jangled in her head.
She broke his hold and smoothed his hair back. “It was really great and I do want more of it.”
“So what’s the deal here?”
“I have to work tonight, and you can’t come with me. You’d cause a riot.”
He knew it. Resignation in his lowered chin. The price of fame. He didn’t know she was stretching the truth. A protective white lie. She didn’t have to work tonight. The gig was covered and while she’d normally show up anyway, it wasn’t like things would fall over if she didn’t. She could be free of the commitment in a single message.
“You do love your work.”