He stopped at my car. “Baby, you could be in a burlap sack, and I wouldn’t give a damn. All I care about is what’s underneath…unlike you.”
I sighed at the insult. “I explained why—”
“You wanna go or not?” He opened the passenger door and prepared to get inside.
“Where’s your truck?”
“Home.”
“Then how did you get here?”
“Does it matter?” He was still irritated by the whole thing backstage.
I sighed. “Fine.” I got into the driver’s seat and drove away.
We went to some hole-in-the-wall place that was dead quiet. It had a variety of food, so I ordered a garden salad with strawberries, while he ordered a hamburger and fries. It wasn’t a romantic setting, but I liked that he didn’t want to take me anywhere nice. It wasn’t like he needed to impress me.
We didn’t say anything until we got the food. He was clearly pissed at me and wanted the silence to suffocate me. I’d never really been scared of him before, but that cold silence was unnerving. With both his arms on the table, he took a large bite of his hamburger and chewed it while he stared at me.
I put the napkin in my lap and stabbed my fork into the greens.
He suddenly grabbed the extra plate sitting beside him and placed a handful of fries on it before he pushed the dish toward me. Then he kept eating as if nothing happened.
His fries looked good, so I ate a few. “I told you this would be a secret.”
“From your brother. Not the world.” He took a bite of a fry.
“Well, my friends see my brother sometimes. They might say something.”
“Then ask them not to.”
“I’m not gonna do that,” I said quickly.
“Give me a fake name.”
“Or we could just not make out backstage in front of all my coworkers,” I snapped.
He stared at me as he kept eating, visibly angered by my words. “Not gonna happen. If I’m your man, then I act like your man. I don’t give a shit who’s watching.” He took another bite of his burger. “What’s your plan? To go out with your friends and pretend you don’t have a man at home?”
“I don’t know…haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Well, I’ll think for you. Not gonna happen.”
“People talk. The last thing I need right now is my brother asking me about this gorgeous tattooed hunk that my friends won’t shut up about. And trust me, if they knew we were an item, they would not shut up about it.”
“If you think I’m a tattooed hunk, then maybe you should appreciate me.”
“I do. I just don’t want to be questioned about it.”
“Tell your brother to mind his own fucking business. Think of that?”
I sighed and ate a few more fries, ignoring my salad altogether.
“Are you a girl or a woman?” he snapped. “Because the woman I know wouldn’t put up with that shit, would tell her brother to fuck off and stop sticking his nose in her business.”
“Okay,” I said with a sigh. “Stop yelling.”
“You think I’m yelling?” His eyebrow rose. “You’ve heard me yell once before, so no, this isn’t fucking yelling.”
When he’d yelled at Popov to let me out of the cage, his voice was so powerful, it shook the bars on every cage. “My family comes to my shows sometimes, so if you run into each other, that’s going to be incredibly awkward.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“If he saw you, how would you explain your presence?”
He seemed annoyed by the question. “Let me worry about that.”
“Or we can just be careful…”
“It may not seem like it, but I’m always careful.”
No, it did not seem like it.
“You aren’t going to bars with your friends and pretending to be single. That shit isn’t gonna fly.”
That probably wasn’t realistic.
“Unless you want me to do the exact same fucking thing.”
“Then my friends are going to want to meet you.”
“Fine with me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that would want to do that.”
He shrugged. “It’s better than guys buying you drink after drink.”
“And what if we run into Damien?”
“Does he go to bars a lot?” he asked incredulously. “If he’s settled down, that seems unlikely.”
“He meets clients and stuff…”
“How about we deal with this stuff when it comes up instead of spending our time worrying about it?”
I wanted this to be private, to have this relationship behind closed doors, but he seemed adamant about getting what he wanted, so I let it go. “Still mad at me?”
He finished his bite before he answered. “Yes.”
I rolled my eyes.
“But I’m sure a good blow job would fix that.”
I shook my head slightly. “Oh my god…”
He didn’t look apologetic about what he’d said.
I grabbed my fork and worked on my salad again, trying to steer clear of the fries because I’d already had too many. “What have you been doing since I last saw you?”