“Are you flirting with me?” he countered in a gruff tone that went straight to my dick.
Uh oh. Not good.
“No, I’m playing with you,” I bluffed, popping another carrot into my mouth as I stepped aside. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“In other words, mind your own business, Methuselah.”
I smiled at the note of self-deprecation. “I didn’t say that, but I’ll let you in on a secret about me. I’m one of those annoying guys who does the exact opposite of whatever I’m told.”
“So you’re going out with Clay,” he deadpanned.
“Maybe. If I do, I’ll tell you all about it…neighbor.”
Sean grabbed my elbow before I could move around him. “Fine, but let me give you my number.”
I frowned in confusion. “Huh? Why?”
“In case you need anything,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“While I’m on a hypothetical date that may or may not happen?”
“Or whenever.” He shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing for me to pull out my cell.
I obeyed. And when he told me to dial his number so he’d have mine too, I did. I’d probably wonder later why I folded like a house of cards, but maybe not. It seemed practical and neighborly…not flirtatious at all.
I ignored the prickle of what felt vaguely like disappointment as I slipped my phone into my pocket. “Since you’re big on rules, what are the rules for neighbors? Can I call you in the middle of the night when I decide I’m going to bake cookies for the first time in my life and realize I don’t have any ingredients?”
Sean rolled his eyes. “Sure thing.”
“Are you leaving?” I asked when he backed away from me, moving to the opposite end of the island, then turned abruptly.
If he noticed that my gaze was glued to his ass, he didn’t let on. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”
End of conversation, right?
Time to find something to eat, shoot the shit with my friends, and maybe let Dec’s mom gush about my new place and my amazing interior designer. My only job was to relax and take it easy. No stress, no schedule, no worries bigger than wondering what I should make for dinner and whether I should let Charlie set me up on a date for the sake of publicity.
But no…I had to open my mouth. And when I did, I think I surprised both of us.
“Hey, if you still need a guitar teacher, I’m in.”
3
Sean
“Guitar?”
Johnny’s eyes glinted devilishly. “Yeah, you mentioned your son might want lessons. It was at the end of the show last night…after I bonked my head and attacked you.”
I moved around the island, pausing a couple of feet away from him. “I remember.”
“You probably didn’t have a chance to ask your kid about it, but if he’s into the idea, I’ll do it.”
“Why?”
“ ’Cause I’m a nice guy.”
His shaggy raven hair fell across his forehead when he cocked his head, shading his pretty brown eyes from view. I fought the urge to tuck the wayward strands behind his ear so I could get a better look at the charcoal pencil lines under his lashes.
Johnny had an interesting style. A cross between emo punk and rebel without a cause. He exclusively wore black, and today was no different. Black jeans, a black T-shirt, and black Doc Martens. His one concession to color was usually a splash of ruby red on his full lips. Though not today.
I couldn’t decide if it was stranger that he opted not to wear any or that I’d noticed in the first place. Definitely the latter. Johnny was a friend of a friend. Period. Oh, yeah…and my neighbor. Then again, a two-block distance in LA might as well be on the other side of the city. We both knew a phone number exchange was nothing more than a polite nicety. Until two seconds ago, I figured I’d see him at the next event Tegan and Dec hosted.
But guitar lessons…
“Right. I’ll ask Parker if he’s interested and—”
“Cool. Later, Sean.” Johnny flashed a brilliant smile and brushed my shoulder as he glided through the adjacent great room and outside.
I reached for a celery stick and stared at the white edges to keep from staring after him. I’d regretted that impulsive question the second it had left my mouth last night. I wasn’t kidding about rules. I had a strict code when it came to my personal life. Well, specifically anything to do with my kids. I kept my friends and my businesses separate from them. It wasn’t always possible, but I tried.
I’d certainly never invited anyone into their lives on purpose. But I trusted Johnny. I’d known him for a few years. I knew his friends well and had watched him interact socially and had seen him perform in front of thousands of fans. He might look like a punk, but he always had a smile on his face. I liked him.