Dressed in all black with a sexy wooden cross necklace, Gabriel Cocker is every inch the rockstar I expected. He was on the cover of Vanity Fair two months ago when his sweet ballad launched his album all the way to number one on both the Indie Rock and Pop charts. The photograph was panty-melting — him shirtless in only leather pants and this necklace he’s wearing now. It was an homage to a photo of a singer from the 1960’s or 1970’s named Jim Morrison, except that in Gabriel's photo they'd sprayed him down so he was glistening.

But in person Gabriel is every bit as full of himself as I imagined he would be.

Kissing me like that and saying I’m beautiful as if he meant any of it.

Puh-lease.

He’s as good an actor as he is a singer, but I’m not fooled.

“You still in college?” he asks, legs spread with total confidence.

Staring ahead I answer, “No.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a yoga teacher.”

“Is that how you got this?” He reaches over to glide his fingertips along the soft underbelly of my arm just below my exposed wound. The sensual touch tickles and sends a shiver into parts of me that were sleeping.

My eyelashes rise and I stare at him.

His lips…I can still feel them.

That was a dirty trick he played.

Bringing my arm closer to me I mumble, “This is from a car accident. You didn’t hear about it?”

He cocks his head, long strands of black hair hanging free over his perfect forehead. “No, did you tell my publicist about it or something? She didn’t say anything.”

“Your cousin hit me on the way to work.”

Gabriel’s blinks in sexy confusion. I swear he could sniff his armpit and it would be hot. “Which one?”

“Ben. Why? How many do you have?”

His jaw grinds as anger flashes across his gorgeous face. He glares out the window and starts tapping the armrest, fingers growing more agitated. This is the first time I’ve spotted the black leather rope around his right wrist. Something about a man in masculine jewelry makes me think of vikings or gladiators. Either are enough to make my belly warm.

“Sneaky motherfucker,” he mutters.

“Sorry?”

He glances back to me and holds. Leaning over so quickly I have no time to react he tries to kiss me again, his fingers wrapping around my head. I push him off and put distance between us as I cry out, “Stop it! What are you doing?”

Those pouty lips of his make an O and he leans way back, staring ahead. “I uh, wow, sorry. Don’t know what came over me.” Under his breath he groans, “Shit.”

“You swear a lot. From your music I wouldn’t think you’d do that.”

He locks eyes with me and starts ironically laughing. “Listen, Namaste Chick, you know nothing about me. I’m not the good guy you think I am.”

“Who said I thought you were good?”

“You just did. From my lyrics you think I’m a pussy.”

“Swearing doesn’t make you a man.”

“Wow,” he mutters.

“It doesn’t. And your songs are beautiful. That doesn’t make you a pussy if you write poetry. I just thought…”

“So you’re a prude. I’m on a date with a girl who won’t say the words shit, fuck, damn, cock. Wait, do you say hell or do you think that’s a swearword, too?”

“I think you’re an arrogant and conceited jerk, that’s what I think! And Namaste is a term of respect so that’s not an insult, Gabriel Cocker!”

He glares at me, a million expressions crossing over his face as he tries to figure out what to make of me. “I was wrong.”

“About?!”

He sneers, “This night is going to be exactly how I thought it would be.” Swiping lint off his stylish, black blazer he adds in a lower, bored voice, “A fucking pain in my ass.”

“That makes two of us who think this was a terrible idea. I don’t want to be here!”

He chuckles while raking that fantastic hair of his, “No shit! I’m pretty clear on that now. Got it. Why don’t we just take you home.” He leans forward and growls, “Unbelievable.”

I look out the windows, too, searching for what he sees. We’re driving up to the restaurant. “We can still turn back around.”

“Oh no, we’re going in. I can’t wait to see this.” Gabriel swings the door open before the limo comes to a complete stop. He jumps out while the car is still moving except when he does it it’s smooth and super-heroesque.

Rolling my eyes I shoot over to get out, legs dangling as the driver chooses the perfect place to park. “Just stop the car!” His eyes meet mine in the rearview and he hits the brakes. Rocking in my seat I mutter to myself, “What a nightmare.”

Gabriel does not help me out of the car and when I stand up I see him walking to his cousin Ben, nearly shouting, “Well, what a surprise! Didn’t expect you here! Oh wait, yeah I fuckin’ did. Come on! Let’s eat!”

Ben locks eyes with me as Gabriel walks on ahead of us without looking back. His furious swagger says he’s committed to making this the worst evening of my life.

Staring after him I tell Ben, “Your cousin is worse than you!”

He offers me a sexy smirk. “Way worse. Lucky I showed up, huh? You look very nice tonight, Paige.”