Chapter Three

 

I hated to pull away from the safety of Theo’s strong arms, but I hated myself even more for wanting so desperately to stay snug within them. His demeanor changed as he pulled away, softened somehow, became a bit nervous, even.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

I shrugged, not sure if I wanted to admit I was starving. “Have you eaten lunch?” he asked.

It was already close to three o’clock, but my nerves about our meeting had my stomach twisted, and I was unable to eat. “No,” I said softly.

“Well, since neither of us can cook, you wanna grab a bite at the bar?” he asked.

Now my stomach was really in knots. “I can grab something on my way home,” I stammered.

“C’mon. It’ll give us a chance to get to know one another. Besides, I do have some ground rules if we decide we’re a fit,” he said sternly.

Listening to his voice take the tone of an authority made me giggle. “What?” he asked, his lips curling into a sexy crooked smile.

“Ground rules?” I asked playfully.

“Of course. Ya know, stuff like, you can’t fall in love with me,” he chuckled, then winked.

I smirked, scrunching my nose up as I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I sighed.

“Let’s go,” he said, almost whining.

“Okay,” I agreed.

Theo pointed to houses as we walked the three blocks to the bar, telling me who lived inside. He knew nearly all his neighbors, which for New York was oddly delightful. “Have you lived here your entire life?” I asked.

“Yes. With my grandma,” he said softly.

I didn’t ask where she was, assuming she’d passed on and left him the home. That at least explained why the rent was so cheap. But he could get a ton more, he had to know that.

“A lot of the people have moved on, but there are still some of the original ones left on the block,” he said, raising his hand to wave to an elderly man on a stoop we passed.

The bar was close to empty, with only a couple sitting in a booth, and three men at the bar arguing over the game on the TV. “Hey, Sal,” he greeted the bartender.

“You workin’ today?” the man asked.

Theo shook his head and smiled. “No, sir,” he said, heading behind the bar to serve himself.

“Light beer, right?” he asked, gripping a pitcher in one hand.

I nodded.

Sal smiled at me, with that kind of smile that insinuated I was a hook-up. I turned away, staring around the large bar, reading the funny signs, glancing at the couple in the booth, and then my eyes landed on the stage. I could picture Theo up there, playing, singing, whatever it was he did in the band. It made the tingle between my legs return, but also made my skin crawl at the thought of him eating up all the attention the groupies threw at him.

“Let’s grab this booth,” he said, moving past me with a pitcher full of beer and two large pilsners in his hands.

He slid into the booth, setting the beer and glasses on the table. I slid in across from him, immediately taking the role of server and pouring our beers.

“Wow, you’ve never poured beer before, have you?” he teased as the head rolled quickly to, and then over, the top of the glass.

I smiled, blushed, and then gripped my glass, quickly pulling it to my lips. “I ordered us a large extreme nacho and basket of chicken wings to share. That’s all they have worth eating here,” he explained.

I nodded, not really caring what we ate. I could stare into his steely blues all day long.

“So, you obviously aren’t a bartender. What do you do?” he asked.

“I’m a photographer,” I said proudly.

It felt good to say it aloud. I hadn’t often, since most people I knew already were aware of my profession and didn’t ask. “That’s super cool,” he said, suddenly sounding like a rocker.

“What do you photograph?” he asked.

“Mostly people, but I’ve been picking up a lot of work from marketing firms,” I said, and then took a long sip of my beer.

“Maybe you could take the photos for our new album cover?” he asked.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “You have an album?”

“Almost. We’ve been working on our originals, and it won’t be long ‘til we need a cover for our demo,” he boasted.

“Sure. I’d love to do that,” I said. “So, what do you play?”

“I play the guitar, and I’m the lead singer,” he said, the pride beaming through his smile.

We chatted about our work, surprisingly, and Theo asked quite a few questions about my career, and even seemed interested. It was obvious he loved talking about his band, but he was gracious enough to not consume our conversation with it. “So what are these ground rules?” I asked.

“Does that mean you’re interested?” he smiled.

“Maybe. Depends on the ground rules,” I teased.

“They are not rules really, just basic understandings of my lifestyle. I come in late, sleep during the day most times, and I don’t cook, so the Chinese delivery guy knows me by name,” he laughed.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I keep odd hours, too, and your schedule wouldn’t bother me,” I said.

“As far as company, there is a request,” he said, his voice quieting.

Here it comes. He’s going to tell me how he parades a slew of women through the house, and he doesn’t want someone judging him. Too late. I’m judging.

I leaned back in my seat, took a deep breath, and waited for the drum roll. “I’m not a fan of bringing strangers home. I mean, if you’re dating someone, that’s different. It’s just the random hookups that would be a deal breaker,” he stammered.

My mouth fell open; I knew it did, I could feel my jaw drop. This was not what I expected, at all. “I’ve never had a random hookup in my life,” I said softly, feeling dirty just talking about it.

His eyes narrowed. “Never?” he asked playfully.

I shook my head. “I’ve had three relationships, and only two serious. Tim Haggard in high school, he was a jock, and I was a cheerleader, so it was more of an assumed relationship than anything else. Michael Rowland, he was my boyfriend my first year in college, and then Mac, the musician,” I was rattling again.

“Wow. I didn’t expect you to give me your spreadsheet, but hey, that works,” he chuckled.

I blushed. “I ramble when I get nervous,” I explained.

“It’s great. Makes getting to know you go much quicker,” he said with a grin.

“So, you think you could handle being my roommate?” he asked.

I smiled. “Yes,” I agreed, almost too eagerly to hide.

The week between my meeting with Theo and the Saturday I was moving in felt like an eternity. The shared apartment I was living in somehow felt even more cramped after seeing Theo’s place. Everything I owned was packed and loaded into my car, and I gave Sara a quick hug. I truly appreciated her helping me out with a place to stay, but I was ready to roll out of there. So ready.

Theo was sweet, greeting me outside the townhome and helping me load my boxes into the house, and up the spiral staircase. “Do you have a truck coming?” he asked, setting the last box on the floor of my new room.

“No. This is it,” I said, forcing a smile.

“No bed?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I have one on order. It should be delivered in the next day or so,” I explained.

“I’m sure we can find a place for you to sleep,” he said with a wink.

My pussy reacted with a twitch, but my mind immediately threw into defense gear. “The couch will be just fine,” I said sternly.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” he acted dramatically offended.

“Uh huh,” I laughed.

“I’ve gotta head out to the bar. Are you gonna be okay here? You can tag along,” he offered.

“I’ll be fine. I have a lot of unpacking to do, and some work to catch up on,” I assured him.

“I just know I hate staying the night in a strange place,” he said, his eyebrows lifting with concern.

“This is hardly a strange place,” I smirked.

“Well, I’ll be working late, so if you need anything, just call,” he said.

It was sweet that he was so concerned, worried that I’d be afraid to be alone. I’d been dreaming of alone time. Three months in that tiny apartment with four women—alone was all I wanted to be.

I pushed him out the door, promised him I’d be just fine, and started unpacking my boxes.

My clothes barely took up any space in the enormous closet, leaving plenty of room for me to go shopping, finally. I steered clear of the stores while living with Sara. I knew there was no room to put anything as it was, and with the three other women in the apartment all sharing clothes, I’d most likely never see it again anyhow.

By eleven o’clock, I was settled on the couch with my laptop, editing photos and working on my plans for Theo’s upcoming shoot. The wind picked up, whistling through the streets, slapping at garbage can lids, and rolling debris down the lonely sidewalks. It was starting to feel a little too lonely, and a part of me wished I had tagged along with Theo. I couldn’t now. Not after I acted so strong and capable of staying in a new place, alone. Ugh!

I zeroed in on my work, pushing out any odd noise I heard, or at least trying to. The wedding shoot I’d helped Lark with a couple weeks ago was finally edited, and I had my schedule for the week lined up. I looked at the clock, figuring it had to be close to the time when Theo would be coming in, but it was barely one o’clock.

I turned on the TV for background noise and finished the plans for Theo’s shoot. He’d told me the band name was Lion’s Den, and they played mostly hard rock when covering, and their original stuff resembled bands like Nirvana, Stone Temple Pilots, and Green Day. 

I wasn’t a real rock fan, but after listening to the bands he claimed to resemble on my phone, I was excited to hear them play. The mixture of American rock and punk intrigued me. Maybe they were good enough to get their album in the hands of a big time producer. Mac, my ex, his band played heavy metal, and some classic rock, but never even thought about creating their own stuff. I loved the artsy side of Theo that wanted to create his own music. I couldn’t wait to hear it.

The door opened and my heart beat hard against my chest. Theo looked surprised to see me still up. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?” he asked.

“No,” I lied.

His eyes filled with concern as they stared into mine. Damn, why was he so sweet? I’d almost prefer if he was a dick, waltzing in with a slut on each arm to take to his room, or his rooftop terrace. This guy, the one that seemed genuinely concerned, and the one that looked at me so lovingly, I couldn’t handle him.

“I thought about sending you a text to let you know I was on my way, but I was afraid I’d wake you,” he said, moving toward the couch—my bed.

When he sat down beside me, my heart started racing fast in my chest, so hard I feared he could hear it slamming against my ribcage. “You stay up because you missed me?” he teased.

“No. I told you, I had a lot of work to do,” I giggled. Why did I giggle? He was making me nervous sitting so close to me, so late at night, and on my bed. Okay, so it was his couch, but tonight, it was my bed.

“What have you been working on?” he asked, leaning over my shoulder to my laptop.

I still had the photos open from some of the bands he’d mentioned, splattered all over my Word document as a collage for inspiration. “What’s all this?” he asked.

Damn, he smelled so good as he leaned closer.

His cheek was so close to my lips, I could’ve just stretched them out and planted them right on his scruffy skin. “I was working on inspiration for your photo shoot,” I explained.

His head turned, his lips now so close to mine, his eyes so deeply penetrating me that my pussy throbbed.

“That’s super cool, Willow. So, you think you have time to do it?” he asked. “I mean, I know you’re busy, and it’s not a rush at all. We’re on your schedule,” he added quickly.

“How about a week from this coming Tuesday?” I asked, figuring that would give me enough time to hear them play, meet the other band members, and get inside their heads.

His hand rested on my knee as he leaned back. His smile made me dizzy, and his eyes intoxicated me with their excitement. “Thank you, Willow. The guys will be psyched,” he said softly, pushing himself up, and onto his feet. Suddenly, I missed him in my bed.