Paper, Scissors, Rock

by Nicole S. Goodin

  He just smiled, but otherwise ignored me.

  “Excuse me…” I called to the driver when I realised I was wasting my time back here. “Corner of West and Donohue please.”

  The man in control of the car glanced in the rearview mirror to meet Parker’s eyes.

  Parker shook his head at his driver.

  God damn rock star.

  “I’ll go to the press,” I threatened him.

  “You won’t,” he replied with a cocky grin.

  I suddenly felt incredibly nervous. I knew he was just playing, but I didn’t want to go home with him… I didn’t want to risk another media frenzy like we’d encountered at the club… I didn’t want any drama.

  I just wanted to go home and sleep in my own bed. Alone… but he was right – I would never go to the media with anything.

  I felt my smile drop.

  “Hey,” he said softly, noticing the change in me immediately. “I was only joking around.”

  I peeked up at him.

  He reached out and gently stroked the side of my face. “You really want to go home?”

  I nodded. “Yes please,” I whispered.

  He smiled and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on my forehead, completely taking me by surprise. Parker Sloan didn’t strike me as the kind of guy that kissed foreheads; he seemed more like the ‘screw you hard and fast in a toilet cubicle’ kind of guy.

  “Kelv,” he called out to the driver. “Corner of West and Donohue,” he repeated the address I’d given from memory.

  I saw the driver tip his head in acknowledgement.

  “Say please,” I growled quietly and nudged his leg.

  I heard Jasper laugh but I didn’t look at him.

  Parker stared hard at me and I stared right back.

  I won.

  “Please, Kelv,” he added.

  “Better.”

  Parker shook his head like he was confused, and ran his hand through his hair.

  “What is it about you, woman?” he mumbled to himself.

  “Should I be concerned you know where I live now?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

  “Probably,” Jasper drawled.

  Parker shook his head but then shrugged. “I dunno, maybe…” He smirked. “Now I’ve got your number and your address. There’s no way you’re getting out of our date tomorrow.”

  My mouth fell open before I quickly regained control and snapped it shut.

  “We are not going on a date tomorrow,” I argued.

  “Oh yes we are,” he replied, totally unfazed by my resistance to the idea.

  The car slowed and pulled over.

  I peered out of the tinted glass.

  Home.

  Thank god.

  “Seriously, rock star… do you understand what it means when a woman tells you no?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he replied. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard it.”

  I laughed, but stopped abruptly when I realized he wasn’t joking.

  “What?” I choked out. “You’ve never been turned down?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Not in the last five years,” he replied in a cocky voice.

  Is he serious?

  “Got girls lining up to be a part of that show back at the club, do you?” I asked him, suddenly remembering that I hadn’t yet made a fuss about the shitty move he’d pulled on me back there.

  His smile dropped slightly.

  That’s right…

  “Which, by the way, I never got to thank you for… I’m looking forward to seeing my face in the news tomorrow,” I added sarcastically. Truth was, I wasn’t looking forward to it at all – I was dreading it.

  He shrugged. “It’s the price I pay.”

  The door next to me opened and I turned to climb out. “Well, not me.”

  “You know I won’t just give up, legs,” he called after me as I stepped out of the car.

  It was both a promise and a warning.

  “Thank you.” I smiled at the driver, Kelvin, who had opened my door, and he nodded politely in response.

  I stuck my head back into the car. “Suit yourself, rock star… but don’t expect me to fall at your feet like one of your groupies.”

  He smirked at me and I heard Jasper laugh.

  “Thanks for the ride, Parker,” Hannah gushed as she slid out of the car.

  Thanks for the kidnapping more like…

  I rolled my eyes for what felt like the millionth time this evening and got away from this crazy man while I still could.

  “See ya, Jasper,” I called over my shoulder as I strolled towards the doors of the building.

  “Laters,” he called back from inside the dark car.

  I rummaged around in my bag for my keys.

  Rock star probably stole them and had them copied…

  Crazy-ass stalker.

  The car’s engine started up again and I watched out of the corner of my eye as they drove away.

  “Why do I have a feeling that won’t be the last I see of that man?” I groaned as I opened the door.

  Hannah was virtually bouncing next to me. “Oh my god, Lotte.” She swooned. “He’s never like that with girls… he must really like you… you are totally going out with him… ugh I’m so jealous… oh my god what if you get married…” She rambled, non-stop all the way up to our floor.

  “Breathe, Han… remember to breathe,” I reminded her.

  “Sorry!” she exclaimed. “This is just so exciting. You have the Parker Sloan’s number.”

  I stopped in my tracks and pointed a finger at her. “I swear to god, you put a ‘the’ in front of his name one more time and I’m gonna slap you,” I threatened.

  She ignored me completely and put her hands together like she was praising the lord. “Thank you, god, my girl is finally getting back in the game. And with none other than Parker Sloan, ladies and gentlemen… what a way to come off the bench!”

  I rolled my eyes and sent up my own prayer that she’d shut the hell up.

  I woke to the sound of music blaring.

  What the hell, Han?

  I groaned as I rolled over onto my side and tried to go back to sleep.

  The music stopped abruptly and I sighed in contentment.

  It was short-lived.

  The music started up again and I recognized the song as one of Parker’s.

  Make Me Feel Alive.

  Jesus, Hannah. Fan girl: level one hundred.

  Banging came from the wall to my left. “Shut the hell up, it’s early,” Hannah’s muffled voice yelled from the next room.

  Not Hannah then…

  My fuzzy brain was slow to catch up.

  If it’s not Hannah then who…

  The music stopped momentarily before starting over again.

  I sat bolt upright, only now noticing the light on my cell flashing.

  “Rock star,” I grumbled, realising exactly what he’d been doing when tinkering around on my phone.

  I snatched it up off my nightstand and swiped to accept the call of the self-professed ‘Sexy Rock Star’.

  “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” I stated by way of welcome.

  “Charlotte.” His caress of my name was smooth and seductive and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it gave me tingles.

  I yawned loudly in an attempt to hide my reaction. “I was sleeping ya know?”

  “But it’s after nine?” He questioned.

  “So?” I demanded. “Me and Han have an agreement, no noise before ten on a Sunday. You and your number one hit just cost me the dishes for a week,” I complained.

  He laughed and the sound made me smile.

  “You’re a rock star; I thought you only came out at night?”

  “I’m a musician, not a vampire.” He chuckled.

  I scoffed at him.

  “So… you know my song’s a number one,” he stated smugly, entirely ignoring the part that meant I was on cleaning duty because of him.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I acknowledged
. “I wasn’t trying to feed your giant ego.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Do you know you’re kind of brutal?”

  “I’m aware. Do you know you have psychopathic tendencies?” I fired back.

  He chuckled again. “I like you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Well what I do know, I like,” he amended.

  I sighed. “Look, rock star, what do you want? I’m not your usual M.O.” I flopped back down onto my pillows. “I’m not tall, blonde, sexy and looking for a good time,” I explained, just in case he was under any illusions about what I was or wasn’t.

  There was silence for a moment before he answered me.

  “You were the sexiest woman in that club last night, and you didn’t even know it,” he growled as though I’d said something to insult him. “You are sexy,” he added in a gruff voice.

  I blushed and was lost for words for once in my life.

  “What do you want, Parker?” I whispered.

  I heard a sharp intake of breath as I spoke his name to him for the first time.

  “I want you… I want to take you on a date, I want to see you smile, and I want to look into those pretty blue eyes while I fuck you,” he answered. “Then I want to do it all over again.”

  It was me that inhaled a sharp breath this time.

  “And you know what I want more than any of that?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for me to answer him. “I want to hear my name in your sexy voice, coming from your soft lips. Again, and again, and again...”

  A nervous giggle escaped my mouth.

  “So, Charlotte, how about it?” he asked, more light-hearted than before.

  I paused for a beat, thinking about the consequences that this could have on my life. Parker Sloan was famous – big-time famous. I knew I’d be in the news already, just from last night alone.

  Do I need that drama in my life again?

  It was more than that too. He was so intense, and for some reason, that intensity was focused solely in my direction – I didn’t know how to handle a man like this.

  “Please?” he begged.

  I could already feel my resolve slipping.

  “You’re killing me here,” he groaned.

  “Alright,” I answered quietly, giving in to him. “To the date,” I added. “Not the ‘looking in my eyes while you fuck me’ part.”

  He laughed loudly.

  “Alright,” he repeated. “That’ll do for now.”

  What am I doing?

  I smoothed down my jeans for the fifth time in the last two minutes.

  Why am I doing this?

  I’d been second guessing my decision from the moment Parker had let me off the phone. I’d accepted that I was already going to be doing the dishes for the week, so I’d gone and woke Hannah up early to tell her the news. She’d been flying around like a tornado ever since.

  First thing she’d done was sit bolt upright, grab her laptop, and load up her go-to gossip websites… and there I was, with speculation running rampant.

  ‘Who is Parker Sloan’s latest squeeze?’

  ‘Sloan carries mystery redhead across dance floor.’

  ‘Who’s got Parker Sloan going all cave-man?’

  I cringed as I thought about how many times I’d seen my own face in the last hour.

  Hannah was thrilled. She would have loved nothing more than making the front page of the tabloids. She’d even been able to spot herself in the background of numerous pictures; I’d never seen someone excited about something so stupid.

  I wasn’t so thrilled. I’d been there, done that, and sworn never again.

  Yet here I am.

  There were a dozen or so videos of Parker sweeping me up in his arms and carting me off towards an amused-looking Jasper, me cursing and thrashing about. They were all over YouTube; some of them had millions of views already.

  Fame is one crazy bitch.

  I would know. I’d had an unpleasant brush with it.

  Understatement of the century.

  I just had to hope that that particular experience would stay firmly in the past.

  This thing with Parker was nothing… I had no need to tell him about my past right now. If things went any further, then maybe…

  Getting ahead of yourself…

  It wouldn’t – I was just the latest plaything for a guy like him.

  I took a deep breath as I studied my appearance in the mirror.

  I’d reminded Parker of the fact that I wasn’t his usual type, but the truth was, he wasn’t exactly my type either. I had a list – a short list, but a list nonetheless, of ‘boy next door’ type boyfriends – blue eyes, blond hair, tanned skin, muscular and no tattoos.

  That was my type. Right up until the last one blew up in my face about two years ago.

  These days my type was more of the non-existent variety.

  Parker Sloan didn’t exactly fit my tastes, but the more I thought about him and looked at the photos of us together, the more I felt my preferences shifting – in the bad-boy rocker direction.

  The dangerous direction.

  Shit.

  “It’s just lunch. Stop freaking out.” Hannah’s voice brought me back to the present.

  She was standing behind me, pulling my long hair effortlessly back and forth into a stunning, but simple ponytail.

  Hannah was a fantastic hairdresser – meeting her at a photo shoot all those years ago had been a blessing. I took care of making faces look perfect, and she took care of the hair – we were a team.

  “I wish you’d let me cut this mane,” she moaned.

  “I like it long,” I muttered. “And maybe if you weren’t so trigger happy with those scissors, I wouldn’t be so strict.”

  I saw her roll her eyes in the mirror.

  “Where is he taking you?” she quizzed me.

  “He just said lunch,” I answered. “I didn’t ask.”

  “Well you look stunning,” Hannah told me as she put one final touch on my hair.

  “Thank you,” I replied quietly, looking at myself in the mirror.

  Since I didn’t know where we were going, I’d chosen casual clothes, and I would choose shoes – either Nikes or heels, depending on what Parker showed up wearing.

  A knock at the door took me by surprise.

  “He’s early,” I stated dumbly, grabbing for my bag. “Someone must have let him through the front door.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course they did, he’s Parker Sloan for Christ’s sake… you wait here,” Hannah instructed. “I’ll text you about the shoes,” she added as she flew out my bedroom door.

  “Try not to eye fuck the shit outta him,” I called after her. “And don’t agree to anything stupid, just because he’s famous.”

  Her laugh sounded throughout the living room.

  I heard her swing open the door. “Parker!” she cried, sounding genuinely surprised.

  She should have gone into acting.

  “Hey, come in,” she added.

  “Hannah?” Parker’s voice sounded confused.

  I held back a laugh; Hannah looked completely different now than she had last night. She was wearing sweat pants and a tank top and didn’t have a stitch of makeup on her face. She looked one thousand times more appealing than she had a mere twelve hours ago.

  Silly girl.

  Hannah must have nodded in response to his question.

  “Oh, I didn’t recognise…you look… different,” Parker elaborated.

  The pang of anxiety I felt, took me by surprise.

  What if he made a mistake choosing me?

  Hannah was like all the girls he was photographed with; tall, blonde, stunning, slim… everything I wasn’t. Well, sure, I was slim, but I was short too, and my pale skin and dark red hair were a far cry from Hannah’s beach babe look.

  Calm your shit…you’re not meant to like him anyway.

  My phone chimed next to me and pulled me from my pity party.

  “Nikes. Definitely
Nikes… god he’s HOT”

  I smiled. Parker must have been in his usual jeans and chucks get-up.

  I grabbed my white Nikes and slipped them on my feet, I rolled up my black jeans a couple of rounds and I was as ready as I’d ever be.

  Here goes nothing…

  She looked so beautiful sitting there in my car. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, which looked so freaking good on her, but I still preferred her hair loose down her back, like it had been last night.

  That wild look is sexy as hell.

  I wasn’t used to this. I hadn’t been on a real date in years. Everything I did these days was all about my career or my reputation. I couldn’t remember the last time I did something like this just because I felt like it.

  There was this added sense of pressure knowing that I’d had to work hard to convince her to come, she wasn’t dying to be here, and if I fucked it up, she’d just walk away and never look back.

  I glanced over at her again. I wasn’t being sneaky about it. I wanted to look at her – so I did.

  She noticed this time and raised her eyebrows at me in question.

  “I’m just looking,” I explained.

  “Well two can play at that game,” she replied as her eyes roamed deliberately over my body as I manoeuvred the car around a bend.

  I’d chosen to drive her myself, rather than getting Kelvin to do it. I wanted the privacy of being alone with her. I’d also insisted Sammy stay behind – no one was going to bother me out here.

  I knew she was trying to make me nervous, but it wouldn’t work – her eyes on me was enough to turn me on to no end.

  “Well what do you think?” I asked, fishing for compliments.

  I still had no clue as to whether or not she was attracted to me. There had been some serious heat in our kiss last night, so I thought the answer was a yes, but I couldn’t be sure, and I didn’t like the feeling of uncertainty.

  “You dressed up,” she stated, her tone smug.

  I snorted. “Hardly.”

  I was wearing dark jeans, a black t-shirt and chucks – they were my good chucks, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

  “You did.” She grinned triumphantly. “Those jeans don’t have any holes in them and your shoes have been cleaned.”

  She clasped her hand over her chest. “Parker Sloan, a man after my own heart…” she squeaked in a put-on girly voice.