Rock with Me (With Me in Seattle, #4)(19)

I shake my head and look down into my coffee. Isn’t this why I drove here?

“I’ve been seeing Sam.” I mutter softly and take a sip of coffee, ignoring her look of shock.

“Samantha Williams?” She asks.

“That’s the only Sam I know.”

“I just saw her on Saturday.”

I shrug at her. I did too, and it went from bliss that morning to the biggest f*cking mess that night.

“So what’s the problem?” Meg asks.

“We both f*cked up,” I respond and laugh humorlessly. “Big time.”

“I need more info. Start at the beginning. Don’t leave out any of the sex.” She pulls her feet up under her in her stool and settles in for a story.

“I’m not telling you about my sex life.”

“Okay, tell me the rest.”

“I’ve been running with her every morning,” I start and she nods thoughtfully.

“That sounds like a good thing.”

“It’s been great. And then we sort of fell into bed and now she won’t speak to me.” I clench my hands into fists as the frustration returns full force.

“From what the groupies said back in the day, you were a better lay than that.” Meg laughs, and I know she’s trying to be funny, but it’s like a slap in the face all over again.

“I don’t f*ck groupies, Megan.”

She flinches at my hard voice and I swear under my breath. “I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath.

“Don’t tell me Sam thinks you sleep your way through the line of groupies at your door.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug.

I don’t know where your dick has been.

“She pissed you off,” Meg comments soberly, and she’s right.

She f*cking pissed me off.

“She has such a f*cking stick up her ass.” I can’t sit still any more, so I start stalking around her kitchen. “We had a good week, and she was loosening up, and I enjoyed being with her. She’s funny as hell, and she can be sweet, and God, she’s f*cking sexy.” I run my hands through my hair again.

“What happened, then?” Meg asks with a frown.

“I left Saturday morning, and by the time I saw her again that night, she put her f*cking walls back up and told me that she didn’t want to see me anymore. We both tried to hurt each other and it worked.” I can’t get the image of her crying on her countertop out of my head. Bent over, jeans around her knees, arms folded under her body, shaking.

Fuck, I’m an *.

“I don’t need her shit.”

Meg’s phone rings and she frowns at the display, then holds her finger up to me to hold on a minute and takes the call.

“Hello?”

I lean against the granite and listen half-heartedly.

“Sounds like you have the flu. What’s your temp?”

Someone is always calling her for medical advice. I’m so damn proud of my little sister. She’s excellent at her job.

“You need fluids and rest. It’s a virus, but you need to take some Tylenol and watch that temp.” Her eyes flick up to me and she shrugs and then ends the call. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I shrug her off.

“So, you don’t need her shit,” Meg prompts me.

“No, I don’t. I don’t know what the f*ck her problem is, but I don’t need it.”

“So don’t see her again.”

Is it that easy? The thought of not hearing her laugh, not sinking into her soft body, just… hurts.

And that pisses me off too.

“I don’t do relationships,” I remind Meg and she shakes her head at me in disgust.

“I think you like her.”

“When she’s not being a cold bitch, yeah, I like her.”

“I think she has trust issues, Leo.” Meg looks down at her coffee in thought.

“Don’t we all?” I ask sarcastically.

“I suppose.” She shrugs. “Remember, her brother is super famous, and she had to watch him deal with that. It’s probably not easy being related to someone that famous.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “I bet a lot of people have used her to get to him.”

“Are people using you to get to me?” I ask, pissed all over again.

“No.” she waves me off. “Until recently, most people didn’t know you and I are connected. But she and Luke are tight, and people suck.”

“But I have no reason to use her to get to Luke. I knew Luke before I knew her.”

“I’m just saying that could be why she’s so difficult to get to know, and why she’s not quick to make friends.”

I cross my arms over my chest and frown.

“I don’t think she has a lot of friends,” Meg murmurs, and I silently agree.

“I don’t need her shit,” I state again, firmly.

“Okay, so then why are you so pissed?” She asks. “You would typically flip her the bird and go about your life.”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me, Leo.” Meg’s eyes are as soft as her voice, and she smiles gently at me, and I know I can’t fool her.

“She’s different,” I mutter with a scowl.