Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(13)

“You’re shitting me,” Mike said, and she chuckled. Most people were taken aback when they found out where she lived.

“Nope.”

“How did you manage that?”

“My apartment is one of a four-plex in a gated historical building. A friend of my family owns the building. When he mentioned a few years back that he had a vacancy, I was feeling adventurous, so I jumped on it.”

“I bet that gets crazy at Mardi Gras.”

“Oh, it’s pretty crazy all the time. I can watch it all from my little balcony. I love it.”

“Wow. What do you do for work, Savannah?”

She liked the way he said her name, but she cringed at the question. “I’m a massage therapist.” And she braced herself for the usual bullshit guys spouted whenever she told them what she did for a living: How much for a happy ending? Wanna practice on me? But who massages you? I bet I could show you a thing or two . . . Ugh. One good thing about it was that it was easy for her to weed out the creeps right away based on their responses to her chosen profession.

Michael, however, only sounded impressed. “That’s great. Do you like it?”

“I really do. It’s nice helping people feel better when they’re hurting, or helping them relax when they’re stressed.”

“Sometimes I swear my therapist is trying to kill me, but it’s worth it to actually feel human afterward.” He had to go and say that. Had to go and make her drunken mind conjure up images of getting all that muscle under her kneading fingers, and that way lay disaster. “Do you have your own place, or . . . ?”

“I work at a day spa. Not many athletes come through there.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I bet not.”

“Though I have thought about striking out on my own. Tommy always told me I should. He said I was wasted there. I was the only one who could get rid of his trigger points.”

The mention of her brother quelled the conversation for a moment. Then Mike said, “So how far along is your sister-in-law?”

“We’re guessing a couple of months. You know, Rowan’s parents died when she was a teenager, one not long after the other. She met Tommy shortly afterward, and he was a big help in getting her through it all. Now he’s gone, and I don’t know what to do to make her feel better.”

“Just be there for her.”

“I am. We all are.”

“Hey . . . well, never mind.” He’d gone from sounding hopeful to dejected so fast she was intrigued.

“What? Seriously, I’m open to ideas. Any ideas.”

“You said she was a fan of my brother’s. What about getting her out of town for a few days? He’s still touring. I can get her all access to any show she wants to see, no problem. We’ll even fly her out.”

Wow. She’d wanted to tell Rowan about Zane Larson being the dark mystery guy standing behind Mike at the cemetery, but telling her that would have involved admitting she’d talked to Mike again, when Rowan could barely tolerate the mention of the guy’s name. There had never been a good time to drop that information on her, so Savannah simply let it slide. Two weeks ago, the two of them had been driving to the mall when August on Fire’s latest hit single came on the radio. Rowan had turned it up, her expression completely smoothing out. It was the closest thing to bliss Savannah had seen on her face since Tommy’s death, but still she’d bit her tongue until it nearly bled. That peace on Rowan’s face had looked like a fragile thing, and one mention of Mike might have shattered it.

“She would probably love that,” she admitted to Mike now.

“Let me set it up, then,” he said eagerly.

“Except that it would come from you.” She clenched her eyes shut, hating to say the words, to let him know just how much blame Rowan put on him. “She doesn’t even know I’ve talked to you again. If I tell her that . . . I don’t know. She won’t take it well. She’s really a sweet person, she’s just in a bad place.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I feel like I do.”

“The offer stands, so I’ll leave it up to you. But Zane’s only on tour a few more weeks, then he’ll be back in the studio with the band for a while. She might not have another chance any time soon.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“And she doesn’t have to see me at all.” After a beat, he added, “Both of you would be welcome, of course.”

Rowan would make her come too, if this ever panned out. God, she was so torn. On one hand, sure, Rowan might freak out knowing Savannah was indulging in coffee and drunken late-night chats with Mike Larson behind her back, and on the other, she might strangle her unconscious if she learned she had a chance to meet her favorite singer in the world and Savannah had held out on her.

“I’ll let you know,” she said. “Thank you for offering. That’s really nice of you.”

“The tour actually ends in Houston, if I’m not mistaken. I’ll have to check. That would be a fairly quick trip for you guys. But I’ll shut up and let you get some sleep.”

Her disappointment surprised her; she enjoyed talking to him so much and didn’t want the conversation to end. “Sorry to bother you so late,” she said. “I blame the alcohol.”