Rock with Me (With Me in Seattle, #4)(8)

They’d freak the hell out.

“I missed Meg. Tired of the road. I needed a break.”

“How long since you had a break?” I ask and sip my juice.

He laughs humorlessly. “We’ve been going non-stop for the better part of five years. The three last tours were back to back, three years long.”

“Three years of traveling?”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder you’re tired.”

He nods and smiles, but his eyes suddenly look bone-tired. Weary.

“You ready?” He asks.

Not really.

“Sure.” He pulls me out of the booth, pays the check and leads me back out to the sidewalk and toward home.

“How are your legs?” He asks casually as we walk down the busy sidewalk. The city is waking up.

“Better, thanks.”

“I mean it, don’t do that again.”

“I’ll do whatever I please,” I retort.

“Stubborn woman,” he mutters and glares down at me. I can’t help but laugh.

“Gee, I’ve never heard that before. I’m so easy going.” I flutter my eyelashes at him playfully.

“Smart ass.”

We approach the front door to my condo.

This could be awkward.

He just pulls me in for a hug, wraps those strong arms around me and pulls me into him, against his chest and rocks me back and forth for just a moment. I feel him kiss my head and frown.

What is this?

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he whispers and pulls away, his gray eyes soft and a smile on those lips. “Are you sure you don’t have a favorite band?” he asks hopefully as he backs toward his car.

I laugh and shake my head. “Yeah… Matchbox Twenty is pretty good.”

“You slay me.” He grips both hands over his heart.

“Go home,” I tell him with a smile and pull the door open, step into the warm lobby and look back as he lowers himself into his car. He winks and waves as he pulls away.

I am in so much trouble.





Chapter Three


Leo



“What are your weekend plans?” I ask Sam as we jog up her street. It’s Friday, and we’ve run together every morning this week. Monday set the tone. We run, we have breakfast, I walk her home and leave.

Jesus, I want to kiss her again.

But I think she needs a friend more than anything, and damn if I don’t like her. When she forgets to keep those walls erected around her and loosens up a bit she’s funny as hell and fun to talk with.

And it’s certainly not a hardship to watch her run in her little yoga pants and tank. She has a strong, lean body.

I wonder what those legs would feel like wrapped around my waist.

“Every day is a weekend, Leo,” she responds dryly, bringing me out of my fantasy. “But I think I’m meeting up with Nat and Jules for coffee tomorrow afternoon.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

She laughs; her big blue eyes light up and she wrinkles her adorable nose at me. “You clearly don’t understand the girl definition of having coffee.”

“Enlighten me.” We’re both starting to breathe heavily now. When we started this on Monday I was sure that our little runs wouldn’t challenge me, but Sam is a strong runner.

“We’ll meet at a coffee shop, buy a beverage, and gossip for a few hours.”

“What do you talk about?” I ask, although I really don’t care. I just want to hear that sexy, raspy voice of hers.

“I can’t tell you that. It’s girl stuff.”

“C’mon, I won’t tell anyone. Swear.” I cross my heart and grin down at her.

“Nope.” She shakes her head and smiles some more.

“Fine. Then I won’t tell you my gossip.” I shrug nonchalantly and grin.

“What gossip?” She asks.

“Not telling.”

“Fine.” She shrugs and glances at me from the corner of her eye, trying to hold a smile in. Finally, she laughs and shoves me in the shoulder. “You don’t have any gossip, you jerk.”

Before I can respond, my toe catches on a raised portion of the sidewalk and I feel myself pitch forward, face-first onto the sidewalk.

“Shit!”

My knee catches the most grief from the fall, and I roll out of it and back onto my feet.

“Are you okay?” Sam grips my upper arms in her strong, little hands, her eyes wide and worried, searching my face, panting.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“I’m fine. No big.” Her eyes take a journey down my body and she gasps when she sees my knee.

“No you’re not! You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scrape, Sam.”

“You’re bleeding,” she repeats and squats in front of me, examining the tiny scrape. I didn’t even know it was there until she said something.

“It doesn’t hurt. Come on, let’s keep running.”

“No way, I’m taking you home and patching you up. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you that hard.” She stands and her eyes find mine again, her brows pulled together in a frown.

I laugh and run my thumb over her frown lines, ignoring her little flinch. “I’m fine.”