Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(27)

His hand went from relaxed and resting, to tight and firm on my hip.

I angled my head to look at him and found, in my movements, I’d brought my face closer to his.

I noticed immediately he wasn’t asleep anymore. His eyes were open and he was looking at me.

Darn.

Before I could think (and thus stop myself from speaking), I whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Then I watched close up as his face warmed. It warmed in a way I’d seen it warm before. The way it warmed that night in my father’s study when I was sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck right before I asked him to kiss me.

I stopped breathing.

He kept looking at me and I felt a weird sensation that I knew was complete and utter fear mingled bizarrely with the barest hint of anticipation.

His gaze dropped to my mouth.

My mouth went dry.

The anticipation fled and the fear took hold and I started to panic.

I was about to push away, run away, get out of there as fast as my French pedicure toe-nailed feet would take me when his fingers at my hip flexed and I fought through the fear and focused on him again.

“I need to get home,” he said softly.

At his words, the panic disappeared and relief filled me.

I nodded. He did an ab curl, pulling up, taking me with him until he was on his feet and he planted me on mine, right in front of him.

Then before I could move away, he grabbed my hand and I had no choice but to walk him to the door.

He stopped there, hand still in mine, body so close I could feel his heat and he looked down at me.

“I go out, I wait until I hear you lock the door,” he informed me.

I nodded again.

Then he went on, “Tomorrow night, I’ll be back. Seven o’clock. I’m taking you to dinner.”

The panic came back and my mouth dropped open. Hector “Oh my God” Chavez wanted to take me out to dinner?

How bizarre was that?

My mind scrambled for an excuse and, thankfully, I had one.

“I can’t. Buddy and Ralphie and I have plans,” I told him and it wasn’t a lie. We were going out to dinner and they were taking me to a drag show afterwards. They’d decided, after all that was my life, it was high time for me to start having fun.

“Then Monday. I’ll be here at seven,” Hector replied immediately and I opened my mouth to speak but he lifted the other hand, the one not holding mine (still!) and put his finger to my upper lip.

I stopped breathing again.

He took his finger away. “It’ll be casual; there’ll be no reason to put on your designer armor.”

Oh my God!

He knew about my armor! He even said it, straight out!

How did he know?

Oh… my… God!

Before I could figure it out or ask or get over my panic attack, he murmured, “Monday. Seven.”

Then he squeezed my hand and he was gone.

I stared at the door for what seemed like forever and, finally, from outside I heard Hector’s voice say sharply, “Lock.”

I jumped to the door and threw the lock.

I put my ear to it and heard his boots on the steps outside and I stayed there even when I could hear them no more. After awhile, I turned toward the stairs and came to a jarring halt when I saw Ralphie sitting on one of them looking at me.

“How long have you been sitting there?” I breathed.

“Was up on the landing, listening to him ask you out. Came down after he left,” Ralphie replied.

“Ralphie, we need to talk about –”

“If you think we need to talk about how you don’t want anything to do with Hispanic Hottie then you need to think again, sweet ‘ums.”

“Ralphie –”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Ralphie!”

He stood and looked down at me. “You deserve your little slice of happiness, you’ve waited long enough for it and worked hard enough to earn it and I’m gonna see you get it.”

Then before I could protest he turned and walked up the stairs.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Darn.

Chapter Five

Screaming Orgasm

Sadie

“We are not watching YoYo,” Buddy snapped at Ralphie as he opened the door to the g*y bar on Colfax and stepped back to let me precede him.

“We are so watching YoYo,” Ralphie snapped back, getting up close to me, putting his hands to my waist and crowding in behind me, shoving me through the door.

“No YoYo,” Buddy returned.

“Oh so YoYo,” Ralphie shot back.

I started giggling.

They were arguing about watching Bex’s black pug, YoYo. She was going on vacation and needed someone to look after her dog. Bex had brought her around that day so we could meet her.

Buddy didn’t like dogs but, on sight, Ralphie and I fell in love with the snorting, wheezing, teeny-tiny, squirming, adorable pug.

“We watch YoYo, you’re gonna start in on me about getting a damn dog again and I’ve made myself clear on this subject about a million times,” Buddy replied.

“Excuse me but I can’t wear the cute doggie sweaters I bought online. We have to get a dog so I can dress her up in those sweaters,” Ralphie threw in.

“I told you not to buy those sweaters. Why would anyone buy doggie sweaters when they don’t have a dog?” Buddy was losing patience.