The Rocker Who Loves Me (The Rocker 4)

“Of course it is,” Shane muttered and reached for my leg to pull my feet up into his lap. I shot him a curious look, but he just pulled off my flats and started rubbing my aching feet.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and I couldn’t help the small moan that escaped as his thumb put pressure right in the arch of my left foot. “Oh… Oh that feels wonderful.”

“You like?” His tone was throaty, but I didn’t open my eyes as I nodded. “Should I stop?”

“Stop and I will hurt you.” His chuckle followed my threat, and I peeked through my lashes to find him leaning just a little closer. My heart started racing. Memories of our kiss flashed through my mind, and my lips started to ache for a repeat.

Then the sweet memories faded and the hurt poured back in when I remembered him running out when it had just started to get good. Pulling my feet away, I sat up straighter. “Th-thanks,” I mumbled, forcing my gaze back to the television.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, reaching for my hands, but I pulled them away. “Harper?”

“I don’t know how to play your games, Shane,” I told him honestly, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I’m not sophisticated enough to even understand the rules. One minute I thought we were friends, then you kissed me…” I sighed. “And then you just ran off and I didn’t hear a word from you for almost two weeks. Now you’re back, and tonight was fun. Really, really fun. I loved dancing with you and hanging out. But just as friends. Nothing more.”

Blue-gray eyes darkened as he listened to me. “I’m sorry I ran after that kiss…” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “You scared the hell out of me, beautiful. I won’t lie. I’ve been around. So try to understand when I tell you that no one— no one —has ever made me feel what you make me feel. It was almost terrifying, and I ran away like a coward. I’m sorry, baby. It’s not going to happen again.”

Yeah, okay, so his words kind of took my breath away. If it was a line, then it was a really amazing line. But I wasn’t willing to fall for it. If he was a coward, then so was I, because I wasn’t willing to risk my heart with him…not when it was half involved already.

“I just want to be friends, Shane.”

The rocker just sat there, frowning at me in the dimly lit living room while House on Haunted Hill played in the background. I felt like he could see into my very soul the way he was looking at me right then. After nearly a full minute, he finally nodded.

“Okay. Friends, for now.” I opened my mouth to tell him that it was for always, but he cut me off. “I’ll make you change your mind, beautiful.”

Shane

I knew that I had fucked up. Running away never solved anything. I knew that. Now I had a lot to make up for, and I was going to do just that.

So I watched stupid House on Haunted Hill with Harper until she fell asleep with her feet in my lap. Picking her up, I realized that she barely weighed anything at all. I carried her to bed and tucked her in. Of course I couldn’t resist brushing a kiss over her cheek before leaving her.

By the time I got home it was nearly three in the morning. The apartment was quiet and I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the clothes spread across the living room. Grinning, I tossed my keys aside and headed for my room. It was about time Drake got what he deserved. I was thrilled for my brother and Lana.

Of course he wasn’t so thrilled with me when I had to interrupt them the next morning because Layla kept calling Lana’s phone. As soon as I gave her the phone, I made a run for it. No way did I want to be around when they finally came out of that bedroom.

My day was spent making phone calls from a coffee shop I knew Harper liked. I had grilled Lana about her for the last two weeks and knew her likes and dislikes by heart now. As I surfed the net on my phone, I realized I was acting a little stalker-ish and grimaced. Great, now I was turning into a psycho!

Of course that thought went flying out of my head when I saw her come into the shop and head straight for the counter. Picking up my half empty cup of triple espresso—which had nothing on Jesse’s special blend—I tossed the now cold drink and got in line behind Harper to order another one.

While she spoke to the skinny kid, ordering some kind of girly mocha with extra whipped topping, I took my time checking out the view from behind. Gods, but I loved her ass. The leggings she was wearing outlined it perfectly, and I had to ball my hands into fists to keep from reaching out to cup those sweet hips.

She was wearing running shoes and a tank top, so I had to assume she was planning on a trip to the gym. It was after one, which didn’t surprise me. Lana had told me that my girl liked her sleep, and I had kept her up pretty late the night before.

When she started to pay for her coffee, I stepped forward and took care of it while ordering my own with some pastries. I hadn’t needed Lana to tell me that Harper had a sweet tooth. After paying, I turned to face the quiet girl standing beside of me.

Was it me or was she more beautiful when she was trying to be mad. “I can pay for my own coffee, Shane.”

“No one said that you couldn’t, beautiful. I just wanted to buy my friend something to drink.” I leaned closer to her as I said the word friend and enjoyed the sight of pink flushing her cheeks. Of course I got a hint of the perfume she was wearing and nearly groaned as it had an effect on my dick.

The barista put our cups down in front of us along with the dish of pastries. I sent the kid a smile as I picked up our order and led her toward the table I had taken up for most of the day.

I sat the coffee down and pulled out a chair for her. Other than a few times for Emmie, I didn’t think I had ever done that for a girl before. Harper didn’t look impressed, though. She just sat down and snatched up one of the cherry filled pastries. “I really don’t have time for this.”

“What’s so important that it can’t wait twenty minutes while we share a snack?” I asked as I sat down across from her so I could see her eyes. Gods, I loved her eyes!

“I’m meeting Cecil at the gym for some racquetball.”

My entire body tensed up as the name of another man left her lips. “Who the fuck is Cecil?” I demanded before I could stop myself.

“My stepdad,” she said with a roll of those gorgeous eyes.

“Oh…” Dammit! Now I sounded like an obsessive asshole. Girls didn’t like shit like that, did they? Emmie and Layla didn’t like it much, or at least they said they didn’t. Was it some kind of reverse psychology and they really did?