The Rocker That Needs Me
Page 32
“From the beginning.” He hit a button on the remote to start the trio of songs that we planned on dancing to and pulled me into his arms.
Michael Bublé’s Sway filled the room, and I let him lead me through the moves. I pushed all thoughts of Drake from my mind for the moment and let the music fill my soul as Linc spun and dipped me. When the song ended, Save The Last Dance For Me began, and I was smiling as the tempo became more upbeat.
By the end of the next hour, I was sweating and breathing hard, having just danced my ass off. I grabbed my stuff, blew Linc a kiss, and hurried home. He still had a few hours to go before his shift was over. He was a personal trainer and made a good bit of his money catering to the spoiled rich older women who came in just to ogle him for half an hour at a time.
If I was going to have dinner with Drake, I needed to plan what I was going to wear…and at least attempt to get a good hold on my emotions before I saw him again!
It was just after six when I finished putting on my makeup and looked down to find Drake’s name flash across my screen followed by his text. I still had his number, had tortured myself by putting it in my new phone when I had gotten it. A few times over the last few months, I had come so close to texting him, but then Vegas would come back to haunt me.
I had forgiven Drake for that night almost immediately, but it wasn’t something that I would ever be able to forget…
Picking up my phone and my clutch, I hurried out of the bathroom I shared with Harper. She was sitting in the living room with her computer on her lap going over the pictures she had taken earlier that day. She waved at me as I headed for the front door. “Be safe. Got your mace?”
I held up my clutch. “Got it!” I blew her a kiss as I ran out the door.
Forty-five minutes later, my taxi pulled up outside of the restaurant that Drake had texted me to meet him at. I was running late and hadn’t even had time to mentally coach myself on how to deal with tonight. As I stepped out of the taxi, I frowned at the ritzy establishment. What was it with the members of Demon’s Wings and wanting to take me to these places?
I clenched my jaw. Jesse had taken me to a place much like this when he had been in New York. I had understood his reasons. He had been thinking more about Layla than me at the time, wanting her to have the experience of a high-end dinner in one of New York’s exclusive restaurants.
With Drake… He knew that I didn’t like places like this. The food was always too rich, the cost always too extreme. He knew that I would rather have a pizza or a cheeseburger at a fast food place. It was crazy, but I was hurt that he wanted to have dinner with me here.
Had he completely forgotten what I was like?
When I entered the restaurant I found that I was underdressed compared to some of the patrons. My dress was simple, silver in color, an ended about mid-thigh. It wasn’t cheap, but it in no way compared to the dresses on some of the other women, who were also decked out in thousands of dollars of diamonds.
The hostess offered me a forced smile, as if she knew I didn’t belong there. “May I help you?”
I raised my chin, refusing to let this woman with her fake smile and even faker tan, make me feel unworthy. “Yes. I’m meeting Drake Stevenson.”
Her eyes widened and she stepped forward. “He’s already seated. This way please, Miss Daniels.”
I blinked, having not expected her to know my name. I followed her through the dining room. A few heads turned my way, but I ignored them all as I kept my eyes on the back of the hostess’ head. I didn’t want to be here!
Drake was seated at a table in the back, hidden from most of the other diners. He stood as I drew closer and I took in his suit. Good God, that man was devastating in a suit! The way it encased all those wonderful muscles… I remembered to close my mouth so I didn’t embarrass myself by drooling.
The hostess excused herself a few feet from Drake’s table, and I stopped. As if sensing my hesitation, he stepped forward and pulled me against him.
“Are you okay?” he murmured against my hair.
I closed my eyes, fighting irrational tears. A hot rock star wanted to have dinner with me at one of Manhattan’s most talked about restaurants and I wasn’t happy about it. Maybe I needed to be medicated…but that still didn’t stop my heart from hurting. Swallowing hard, I took a moment to get my emotions under control before stepping back.
“I’m fine,” I told him with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“No you’re not. I know you, Lana. Something’s wrong.”
“Apparently, you don’t know me as well as you think,” I muttered half under my breath as I took another step back and pulled out a chair at the table.
Drake dropped back down into his chair. “Are you mad at me?” he asked.
I sighed. “Yeah. I guess I am.” There was no use lying about it. I was mad and hurt and an emotional crazy woman. “But it’s not your fault. I’m just being my normal bitchy self.”
Dark brows rose over blue-gray eyes. “Maybe if you told me why you’re mad I can do something about it. I don’t want to start our night off by fighting, Angel.”
My entire body felt a jolt. I sucked in a deep breath. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being called Angel until right this instant. It felt good, so fucking good! “I don’t want to fight either,” I assured him when I could finally speak without crying. “Let’s forget all about it and start over.”
“That sounds good to me… After you tell me what’s wrong.” He reached for my hand and grasped it. Turning it over, he traced his fingers over my palm.
Oh. Fuck. ME! He needed to stop that or I wasn’t going to have any resolve left tonight.
“I…”
“You..?” He smiled as if he knew what his touch was doing to me. Ah, hell! Drake’s smile lit him up from the inside out.
“I hate that you asked me here!” I burst out while I still had the brain cells to do so. “You know that I loathe places like this. How many times have we sat and laughed at the ostentatious people who come to these places? I was looking forward to a night catching up with you, just being with you! Instead, we’re here and it’s like a stab in the heart.” I bit my lip, looking away. “I’m crazy, I know. And a huge bitch. I should be thrilled that you wanted to bring me here. But I’m not. I’m fucking miserable!”
Drake was quiet. His fingers had stopped their pattern tracing on my palm. Slowly, I raised my head. The look in his eyes made my breath catch. He was eating me up with his gaze, and I didn’t know what to do! He has never looked at me like that…Okay, once. He looked at me like that once, but that didn’t count…
Michael Bublé’s Sway filled the room, and I let him lead me through the moves. I pushed all thoughts of Drake from my mind for the moment and let the music fill my soul as Linc spun and dipped me. When the song ended, Save The Last Dance For Me began, and I was smiling as the tempo became more upbeat.
By the end of the next hour, I was sweating and breathing hard, having just danced my ass off. I grabbed my stuff, blew Linc a kiss, and hurried home. He still had a few hours to go before his shift was over. He was a personal trainer and made a good bit of his money catering to the spoiled rich older women who came in just to ogle him for half an hour at a time.
If I was going to have dinner with Drake, I needed to plan what I was going to wear…and at least attempt to get a good hold on my emotions before I saw him again!
It was just after six when I finished putting on my makeup and looked down to find Drake’s name flash across my screen followed by his text. I still had his number, had tortured myself by putting it in my new phone when I had gotten it. A few times over the last few months, I had come so close to texting him, but then Vegas would come back to haunt me.
I had forgiven Drake for that night almost immediately, but it wasn’t something that I would ever be able to forget…
Picking up my phone and my clutch, I hurried out of the bathroom I shared with Harper. She was sitting in the living room with her computer on her lap going over the pictures she had taken earlier that day. She waved at me as I headed for the front door. “Be safe. Got your mace?”
I held up my clutch. “Got it!” I blew her a kiss as I ran out the door.
Forty-five minutes later, my taxi pulled up outside of the restaurant that Drake had texted me to meet him at. I was running late and hadn’t even had time to mentally coach myself on how to deal with tonight. As I stepped out of the taxi, I frowned at the ritzy establishment. What was it with the members of Demon’s Wings and wanting to take me to these places?
I clenched my jaw. Jesse had taken me to a place much like this when he had been in New York. I had understood his reasons. He had been thinking more about Layla than me at the time, wanting her to have the experience of a high-end dinner in one of New York’s exclusive restaurants.
With Drake… He knew that I didn’t like places like this. The food was always too rich, the cost always too extreme. He knew that I would rather have a pizza or a cheeseburger at a fast food place. It was crazy, but I was hurt that he wanted to have dinner with me here.
Had he completely forgotten what I was like?
When I entered the restaurant I found that I was underdressed compared to some of the patrons. My dress was simple, silver in color, an ended about mid-thigh. It wasn’t cheap, but it in no way compared to the dresses on some of the other women, who were also decked out in thousands of dollars of diamonds.
The hostess offered me a forced smile, as if she knew I didn’t belong there. “May I help you?”
I raised my chin, refusing to let this woman with her fake smile and even faker tan, make me feel unworthy. “Yes. I’m meeting Drake Stevenson.”
Her eyes widened and she stepped forward. “He’s already seated. This way please, Miss Daniels.”
I blinked, having not expected her to know my name. I followed her through the dining room. A few heads turned my way, but I ignored them all as I kept my eyes on the back of the hostess’ head. I didn’t want to be here!
Drake was seated at a table in the back, hidden from most of the other diners. He stood as I drew closer and I took in his suit. Good God, that man was devastating in a suit! The way it encased all those wonderful muscles… I remembered to close my mouth so I didn’t embarrass myself by drooling.
The hostess excused herself a few feet from Drake’s table, and I stopped. As if sensing my hesitation, he stepped forward and pulled me against him.
“Are you okay?” he murmured against my hair.
I closed my eyes, fighting irrational tears. A hot rock star wanted to have dinner with me at one of Manhattan’s most talked about restaurants and I wasn’t happy about it. Maybe I needed to be medicated…but that still didn’t stop my heart from hurting. Swallowing hard, I took a moment to get my emotions under control before stepping back.
“I’m fine,” I told him with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.
“No you’re not. I know you, Lana. Something’s wrong.”
“Apparently, you don’t know me as well as you think,” I muttered half under my breath as I took another step back and pulled out a chair at the table.
Drake dropped back down into his chair. “Are you mad at me?” he asked.
I sighed. “Yeah. I guess I am.” There was no use lying about it. I was mad and hurt and an emotional crazy woman. “But it’s not your fault. I’m just being my normal bitchy self.”
Dark brows rose over blue-gray eyes. “Maybe if you told me why you’re mad I can do something about it. I don’t want to start our night off by fighting, Angel.”
My entire body felt a jolt. I sucked in a deep breath. I hadn’t realized how much I missed being called Angel until right this instant. It felt good, so fucking good! “I don’t want to fight either,” I assured him when I could finally speak without crying. “Let’s forget all about it and start over.”
“That sounds good to me… After you tell me what’s wrong.” He reached for my hand and grasped it. Turning it over, he traced his fingers over my palm.
Oh. Fuck. ME! He needed to stop that or I wasn’t going to have any resolve left tonight.
“I…”
“You..?” He smiled as if he knew what his touch was doing to me. Ah, hell! Drake’s smile lit him up from the inside out.
“I hate that you asked me here!” I burst out while I still had the brain cells to do so. “You know that I loathe places like this. How many times have we sat and laughed at the ostentatious people who come to these places? I was looking forward to a night catching up with you, just being with you! Instead, we’re here and it’s like a stab in the heart.” I bit my lip, looking away. “I’m crazy, I know. And a huge bitch. I should be thrilled that you wanted to bring me here. But I’m not. I’m fucking miserable!”
Drake was quiet. His fingers had stopped their pattern tracing on my palm. Slowly, I raised my head. The look in his eyes made my breath catch. He was eating me up with his gaze, and I didn’t know what to do! He has never looked at me like that…Okay, once. He looked at me like that once, but that didn’t count…
