Rock with Me (With Me in Seattle, #4)(7)

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.”

“Fuck,” Leo whispers.

“He wanted me to pull some strings, get an exclusive set up for the magazine, and again I refused.” I shake my head and push my plate away, too angry to eat. “Leo, they’re my family. I’m not ever going to use them to further my career. Ever.”

“What did he do to you?” He asks quietly. His fingers have gripped his coffee mug tightly in anger on my behalf.

“He yelled, called me a *.” I smirk as Leo takes my hand in his again. “I said, ‘No, Bob, I have a *. I understand if you don’t know the difference.’”

“Good for you.” Leo chuckles. “I bet he didn’t like that.”

“No, he wasn’t impressed.” I sigh and absently trace the letters on Leo’s fingers. “He said that I wasn’t a team player, and if I’m not willing to go the extra mile for the good of the magazine, then maybe I shouldn’t be with the company anymore.”

I bite my lip, tracing the ink on his hand now. “Maybe he’s right,” I whisper. “I loved that stupid job.”

“What does your family say?”

My gaze jerks to his and my stomach twists painfully. “They don’t know. Please don’t say anything.”

“Why don’t they know?” He frowns.

“Because, they don’t need to worry about me, and I don’t want them to feel obligated to help me. I’m fine. I’ll figure it out. I have job offers in other cities, but I don’t want to move away from my family. Stupid, huh?”

He turns his hand over and grips my own tightly. “It’s not stupid. This is your home. I missed it too.”

“Why are you home?” I ask, enjoying him. He’s so damn easy to talk to. Maybe too easy. I probably shouldn’t be talking so much, but I can’t talk to my family about this stuff.