Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(109)
What?
Oh my God.
“How do you know?” I whispered.
“A woman like you, a woman who looks like you, doesn’t save herself for twenty-six f**kin’ years then gives it to a guy she’s known a couple of days because she feels in the mood for an adventure.”
This was true.
Shit.
This meant Duke was right. Men did know a lot more about the way a woman’s mind works than we wanted them to know.
I decided this was not a good thing especially if Vance had figured out the same thing.
I was f**ked.
I decided not to think about it at all, ever or at least not until tomorrow.
“Nearly twenty-seven,” I said in an attempt to be amusing and steer us away from a tense subject.
One side of his mouth went up in a grin. I thought that I’d succeeded. I was wrong.
“With Vance or without, you always got me.”
I felt that weight hit my chest, tears heavy there and I sucked in breath to control them.
“Thank you,” I whispered because I didn’t know what else to say, “you too. You, um, always got me too.”
He shook his head, touched his finger to my nose then he was gone.
I stared at the door that he’d closed behind him.
Wow.
* * * * *
Hazel, Boo and I went right to Vance’s cabin without one glance at Vance’s directions.
Boo was not used to car rides and told me he didn’t like them overly much. Indeed, he described his displeasure at length. Then he asked if this was an unheard of nocturnal visit to his most hated person in the world, the vet. When I assured him we were going to see Vance, not the vet, he sat on my thigh and dug his claws into my flesh to hold on and started purring.
Crazy f**king cat.
We parked close to the cabin door next to Vance’s Harley. With my bag and purse over my shoulder, Boo’s litter box in my hand and Boo tucked under my other arm, we made our awkward way to the cabin. The curtains were open, the windows were lit and the light coming into the surrounding darkness seemed warm and welcoming.
I opened the door and dropped Boo who immediately began to explore. I put his litter box in the corner.
Vance wasn’t in the room but the buffalo-shaded floor lamp was lit and the cabin was warm, far warmer than the last time I was there.
It was nearly midnight and I figured Vance was asleep. I was wrong.
He walked down the hall, feet bare, still wearing his clothes. He stopped at the entry into the living room and leaned a shoulder against it. His hair was not pulled back. He looked relaxed, at ease, at home and hot.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he said.
“Meow,” Boo said.
“I brought Boo,” I explained unnecessarily. “I hope that’s all right. He doesn’t like the way Nick serves his breakfast.”
Vance grinned but didn’t say anything. I decided to take this as an all clear for the uninvited feline houseguest.
“Learn anything?” Vance asked.
“I learned that Luke hogs all the action,” I replied.
Vance’s grin turned to a smile.
I was standing by the dining room table and it seemed that Vance was far away.
I felt weird. I’d never had a sleepover at my boyfriend’s (or whatever) house. I mean, I did have a sleepover but that was a break-up/make-up session that included a rousing fight, unbelievable sex and a heartbreaking misunderstanding. I hoped this wasn’t going to be the same (though the unbelievable sex wouldn’t be unwelcome).
I needed him to make a move but he seemed happy where he was.
Hmm.
“I’m going to take a bubble bath,” I announced.
The vibe changed, his tractor beam flipped on and I felt my body lean towards him.
Finally he walked toward me, grabbed my bag off my shoulder and then walked away. I followed him to the bedroom. He dumped my bag on the bed and then he lay down, picked up his book and started reading.
Okay then, tractor beam malfunction.
I got my stuff, took a long bubble bath, lotioned up with cucumber melon and put on my new nightie, soft, pale lemon silk with an edge of peach lace that hit the tops of my thighs. I yanked on my new lacy, white hipsters. I’d bundled my hair in a lose knot with a ponytail holder at the top of my head. I left my bathroom stuff where it was, gathered up my clothes and went to the bedroom.
The house was dark but the light was on in the bedroom. My bag was now on the floor, Vance was under the covers, Boo lying on his stomach, making himself at home. Vance’s chest was bare and he was up on pillows, reading, his fingers rubbing Boo’s neck.
When I entered Vance’s eyes cut to me. I rushed to my side of the bed trying not to look like I was rushing. I dumped my clothes, climbed in and confiscated Boo for a cuddle. Boo had been comfy and protested.
“Hush, Boo. Mommy wants a cuddle,” I told him.
“Meow.”
“Hush.”
I felt like an idiot talking to my cat, taking a bubble bath, having a boyfriend.
I was kind of flipping out.
This was normal stuff that normal girls do.
I’d never been normal. I’d always been kind of a freak.
And anyway, Vance was hot. I often forgot how hot he was, what with us arguing most of the time. He was just as beautiful lying in bed reading as he was kicking bad guy ass. Being reminded of that fact without him moving inside me or in a heated discussion with me made me feel… unsure.