Rock With Me(8)

“You do realize that you live in Seattle, right?” He chuckles and takes a sip of his black coffee. “I think enjoying coffee is a law.”

“Don’t call the coffee police. I never developed a taste for it. I love this place.” I close the menu and sit back in my chair and can’t avoid looking at him anymore.

My insides do a double flip. It should be illegal to look like him. His hair is wet, but his style is a messy feaux-hawk anyway, so it looks fine. He’s casual in his running clothes, tattooed hands wrapped around his mug, and it’s easy to forget that he’s a celebrity.

He’s just a guy.

The waitress brings my juice and takes our orders and leaves us.

“So.” He leans back and braces an elbow on the back of the booth. “Why aren’t you working today?”

“How do you know I’m not?” I ask.

“You said last night that you’re not working any more. Why not?” His eyes narrow slightly, and he’s watching me closely.

No lying.

“I got fired,” I answer and take a sip of juice, trying to clean the bad taste that word left behind.

Fired.

His eyebrows climb into his hairline in surprise. “Why?”

I shrug and look down at my juice. I don’t want to tell him this.

He leans in and takes my hand in his and I can’t stop the instinctual jump that comes with being touched.

What is wrong with me?

“Why do you flinch every time I touch you?” he asks in a low, tight voice.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

“Look at me.” His voice leaves no room for argument, so I look up into his angry gray eyes. “Tell me.”

I shrug again and shake my head. “It’s stupid. I’m no victim, Leo. You don’t know me well, but I would think you’d know me well enough by now to know that I don’t take shit from anyone.”

“Okay, go on.” He keeps my hand in his and rubs his thumb over the back of my hand.

God, that feels good.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” And that’s the truth.

“Okay, fair enough. We’ll save it.” He smiles reassuringly, but doesn’t release my hand.

Where is our food?

Not that I’m hungry now, but I’d really like to have my hand back. He runs his thumb over my knuckles again, sending a tingle through me. I slide my hand out and away from his against the table and grip my juice in my hands. My hand is cold not just because of the cool juice but because of the loss of contact.

He smiles softly, and I find myself smiling back.

“You are beautiful when you smile, Sam.”

“Um, thank you.”

“Tell me about your job,” he demands and sits back as our food is delivered.

“I was the editor at Seattle Magazine for eight years.” I sprinkle pepper on my omelet and take a bite.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah, I liked it. I was good at it.”

“So what happened?”

“About a year ago, my boss wanted me to run a piece on Luke. He figured since Luke’s my brother, I should be able to get an exclusive with him, his new wife, run a spread in the magazine.”

“But you’re not a reporter,” Leo interrupts with a frown.

“No, but he wanted me to make an exception, since he knew I wouldn’t let anyone else do it.” I lower my fork to my plate and take a sip of juice. “I told him absolutely not.” I shake my head as I remember the anger on my boss’s face when I told him I wouldn’t do the piece.

“What made you tell him no?” Leo asks.

“Luke is fiercely private. There is no way in hell I’d put him in my magazine. Besides, it’s insulting to ask me to write a piece on my family, and then get pissed when I say no.” I scowl, pissed all over again.

“Okay, so what does that have to do with you getting fired now?” He asks and eats his pancakes.

“How can you eat pancakes and stay thin?” I ask before thinking.

He smirks, that piercing catching my eye. “Genetics.”

“Lucky bastard,” I mutter, earning a belly laugh from him and my whole being just stills.

My God, he’s amazing when he laughs.

“Anyway,” I continue, shaking myself awake. “Last week the same boss came to me and ripped me a new * for not telling him before that I’m linked to Will Montgomery through my family.”