If only you knew.
I laughed loudly. This girl was not afraid to take the piss out of me.
It was refreshing.
The only one I could count on for that anymore was Jasper, and he only bothered to give me a good ribbing about once a week these days. Everyone else was more concerned with kissing my ass.
She was playful and carefree. I liked it – a lot.
“So where are we going anyway?” she asked as she glanced out the window.
We had headed out of town. I didn’t get to come out here nearly as often as I would have liked, but that was the nature of the beast.
“Somewhere quiet,” I answered vaguely.
She nodded her head in response.
“It’s pretty out here.” She said after a moment of looking out at the passing countryside.
I took a moment to appreciate the trust she was putting in me. Sure, I was well known, and her friend knew she was with me, but still, she was taking a chance on a virtual stranger and letting me take her wherever I wanted – she was trusting me to keep her safe, and that was a damn good feeling.
I reached out for her hand and squeezed it gently. “Thank you for coming with me.”
She looked surprised by my gesture, and a sweet smile graced her lips.
“We’re going to visit someone special to me. She owns a little diner down by the water,” I told her, feeling like I owed her some more information.
“Really?” She crinkled up her nose. “That is not what I was expecting you to say. At all.”
I felt my body tense slightly. “What were you expecting?”
I was used to women only wanting to spend time with me to gain themselves a certain status. They wanted to go to the hottest clubs, the most exclusive restaurants… they were out for all they could get. They only wanted to be with me if the whole world saw it. Charlotte didn’t strike me as that kind of girl, but I didn’t seem to be the best judge of character these days.
She grinned. “A posh restaurant somewhere lame, with over-priced steak and a bunch of idiots with cameras at the front door?” she offered with a grin. “This sounds much better,”
I barked out a laugh and relaxed.
She’s not that kind of girl.
“You’re not a fan of the limelight then?” I asked curiously.
She shook her head quickly, a flash of emotion crossing her face that I couldn’t even attempt to figure out before I had to pull my eyes back to the road.
“Nope,” she replied simply.
There seemed to be more to it, but I didn’t ask.
“I seem like a strange choice of date considering,” I said instead.
She laughed. “Oh yeah, because you gave me a choice?”
“You could have said no,” I told her with my best poker face.
She gaped at me. “You’re joking, right? You said, and I quote, ‘you know I won’t just give up, legs.’ remember?”
She relayed the words back to me in a piss poor impression of my voice.
“That was terrible, legs.” I chuckled, picking the nickname back up in a flash.
She laughed lightly. “Yeah, well we can’t all have voices that define our generation now, can we?”
My publicist had shown me the very article that stated that very quote about a month back – Charlotte had done her homework.
I pulled into the small parking lot outside the diner, killed the engine, and twisted in my seat so I could look at her properly.
“What do you do when you’re not busting balls?” I asked her curiously. Truth was, I had no idea. I didn’t know anything about her. Sammy had been all set to run a background check, like he’d done with any of the women I’d been involved with, but I’d told him not to. Call me old-fashioned, but I wanted to find out about Charlotte, from Charlotte.
There was something about that fact that Jasper had found fuckin’ hilarious. He’d tried to spin me some bullshit about meeting ‘the one’, and I’d wrestled him into a headlock until he’d stopped laughing.
Charlotte wasn’t ‘the one’. That shit wasn’t real. Not in my world anyway. Ninety-nine percent of women – they wanted something from me, and it wasn’t my heart.
Money, fame, a good fuck…
There was always something.
“I’m a makeup artist,” she answered brightly. “That’s how I met Han – on a photo shoot; she’s a hairdresser. Now we run our own business.”
No wonder she looks so good.
“That’s cool,” I replied with a nod. “That’s awesome actually.”
“Yeah, we do okay,” she added with a smile.
Now that I thought about it, they lived in a nice place, a really nice place. They were obviously doing well for themselves.
“How old are you?”
“You never ask a woman her age,” she replied in mock outrage.
I chuckled. “No, you never ask a woman her weight,” I assured her.
“Meh, maybe you’re right.” She shrugged with a laugh. “I’m twenty-five.”
She brought her hands together and twisted a large, blue stone ring around her dainty finger.
“How old are you?” She undid her seatbelt and turned to face me, the same way I was.
“Did your Google search not get my age?” I asked with a cocky smirk.
She swatted my leg. “I didn’t Google you!” she cried.
I shot her a look of disbelief.
“I swear,” she insisted. “Hannah buys all of those stupid magazines and leaves them all over the coffee table. Sometimes I look, and sometimes you’re in them.”
I raised my brows at her.
“Okay, okay. I always look… and you’re always in them,” she admitted.
I chuckled.
“I get bored!” she whined.
“Nothing wrong with reading a gossip mag, legs,” I reassured her.
She rolled her eyes. “Just tell me how damn old you are, rock star.”
There she was again, calling me rock star. I wanted to hear her saying my name, not this nickname she’d labelled me with.
“Twenty-eight,” I stated. “And call me Parker.”
“Ahh… he is capable of speaking his name after all,” she muttered to herself.
She tilted her head side to side as she contemplated my age. “That’s a lot of pressure for someone so young,” she replied softly, distracting me from her prior comment.
She was right. It wasn’t so bad now, I was used to it, and more than that, I just didn’t care anymore. If people liked my music, then great… if not, I didn’t give a fuck. But back when I started… that shit had threatened to ruin me.
“Yeah.” I nodded in agreement. “When I got my big break, I was only twenty-two.”
Just a kid.
“I went from performing on the street and working part-time pumping gas, to being number one on the charts virtually overnight. It was a lot to get my head around. I thought about quitting more times than I can remember. It just takes over your life… nothing is your own anymore.”
I spoke to her without even realizing that I’d given her the most honest answer I’d ever given anyone. I’d been asked this question, or something similar, in nearly every interview I’d ever done, but I’d never felt compelled to tell anyone the real story, or how it made me feel.
Why her?
Jasper’s words about finding the one floated through my mind and I nearly laughed out loud – that bastard sure knew how to mess with my head.
She twirled a strand of dark-red hair around her pale finger as she watched me, a small smile playing on her lips.
“How’d you get here, rock star?”
I frowned. “We took the third exit and—”
She interrupted me with a laugh. “Not here, here... here, as in one of the most well-known musicians in the world?”
My ego patted itself on the back at her praise, but I said nothing. I already knew Charlotte wasn’t the kind of girl who had a thing for cocky assholes.
<
br /> “I was playing my guitar and singing down by the shopping centre near my old place... It was the same thing I did every Saturday. I played for hours, and on a good day I could walk away with a couple hundred bucks.”
I caught sight of her smile and flashed her one back.
I looked right at her pretty face as I continued. “Long story short, a guy called Trent Black heard me that day. He approached me after I’d finished a set and asked if I was interested in coming down town with him to the studio and singing that song again for the label’s producers.”
Goosebumps covered my skin as I thought about that day.
“I thought he was messing with me.” I chuckled. “But he was dead serious. We got in his car, I played, they loved it, and within five hours of walking away from that street corner, I was signed to the record label.”
“That’s crazy.”
I nodded in agreement. “It just doesn’t happen like that, not to anyone.”
“It happened to you,” she pointed out.
“I got so lucky that day, I owe everything to Trent. He was my manager for three years.”
She frowned slightly. “What happened to him?”
“He passed away just over two years ago. I never knew my dad, and Trent was like a father to me. I not only lost a manager that day, but I lost a good friend.”
She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it softly and rubbing her small thumb up and down the side.
“That really sucks.”
I nodded in agreement. “Me and Jasper get by okay, we’re learning as we go.”
“So, he’s your manager now?” she asked, surprise colouring her voice. “I just thought he was part of your ‘posse’ or whatever it is you rock stars have.”
I barked out a laugh. “Manager is the official term. That way I can give him money and he doesn’t fight me on it… and I have someone watching my back that I can trust.”
I glanced out the window and realized we’d been parked in the lot for ages.
“Sitting in my car isn’t actually the date I planned,” I told her quickly. “We should go inside and eat.”
“This isn’t it?” she asked. “And here I was, all set to update my Facebook status to tell the world what a cheapskate you were.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t do that. You’ll have five thousand new friend requests by this evening.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “The more the merrier, right?”
I grinned and shook my head in amusement at her quick responses.
“And besides, they’ll figure out who I am soon enough anyway… thanks to your little show last night.” She narrowed her eyes at me, but I could tell she was playing.
I cringed. “Pictures outside the club?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.
I hadn’t heard from my publicist at all today, so whatever was being thrown around the internet, it can’t have been too bad.
“Oh no, rock star. Not just pictures.” She shook her head dramatically. “Video’s too. Five million people have probably seen you carrying me across that club by now.”
Ah shit.
“It was worth it to get you here.” I smirked, playing it down. This was a normal thing for me, but I doubted it was what Charlotte normally woke up to on a Sunday morning.
She rolled her eyes. “You just want what you can’t have.”
“Who says I can’t have you?” I muttered under my breath as I slipped out of the car.
“I heard that,” she called as she met me near the back of the car.
“Really though, I am sorry about that… stubborn, arrogant and famous isn’t the best mix,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Hannah seemed to quite like it,” she teased.
I chuckled and reached for her hand. She let me take it in mine and I mentally fist pumped the air at the small win.
What the hell is happening to me?
I wasn’t the kind of guy who did dating and hand holding… I did strip clubs and one-night stands.
You just want what you can’t have…
The words bounced around in my head as I led Charlotte towards the door of the diner.
Is that what it is?
Was it the fact that this girl was the first to make me work for her attention? That hadn’t happened to me in a really long time. A point I’d made clear to Charlotte in the limo last night.
Idiot.
I bet there was nothing a woman liked more than hearing about how easily I could get my dick wet.
Shit.
Holding her hand, thinking about getting my dick wet, was not a good decision. I held back a groan.
“Do you ever go back to where it all began?” she asked suddenly, dragging my mind from the gutter.
“The street corner?” I asked her, curious as to where she was going with this, and eager for a distraction from the filth running through my head.
“Yeah.” She nodded.
“I haven’t been back there in years,” I admitted, and for some reason, I felt inexplicably guilty about my answer.
“You should,” she paused, pulling me to a halt with our joined hands and focusing her big blue eyes on mine. “Everyone should go back to where they started every now and then; it helps you to see how far you’ve come.”
For some reason, her words gave me chills.
I nodded slowly. “You know what? I think I’ll do that.”
“Good.” She smiled, clearly pleased with my answer.
I reached slowly for her chin and grasped it between my thumb and fingers. I leant down and brushed my lips softly against hers.
My pulse sped up and my breathing became a little more laboured at the simple contact.
I was so screwed when it came to this woman.
Charlotte smiled and pushed up onto her tip toes to give me one more, gentle kiss, right on the mouth.
Neither of us said anything. No words were needed.
We walked the last few steps to the door and I let go of her hand so I could hold it open for her.
“After you.”
“Such a gentleman,” she gushed in a teasing tone. “Who would have thought?”
Just like that we were back to teasing.
“You make a lot of assumptions,” I told her light-heartedly as I followed her through the doorway.
“So do you.” She winked.
I laughed lightly. She wasn’t wrong. I’d assumed she’d jump at the chance to go home with me last night, and I’d assumed I wouldn’t have to work for it.
Guess we were both wrong about a few things.
She glanced around the small diner and smiled fondly, before heading towards the ‘please wait to be seated sign’.
“Charlotte,” I called after her, suddenly desperate to explain myself.
She turned and took a couple of steps back towards me; I met her in the middle, placing my hands on her upper arms and ducking my head slightly to look right into her eyes.
“I just wanted you to know…” I trailed off. “Well, I… this probably sounds stupid…” I struggled to find the right words.
“Well it certainly sounds stupid with you not finishing a sentence and all,” she joked with sparkling eyes.
“I just want you to know I’m not here because you turned me down,” I told her in a rush. “This isn’t about the challenge of getting into your pants… I’m here because you intrigue me. You’re different, and I haven’t experienced different in a long time.”
Her eyes widened slightly and she nodded. “Okay,” she replied softly. “Thank you.”
I slipped my arm around her and turned her to walk beside to me.
“Well goodness gracious me, if it isn’t my boy come home.”
I smiled wide at the sound of the familiar voice before I saw the grey-haired, apron-clad woman rushing towards us.
“Nona,” I replied with a grin. “You make it sound like I never visit.”
I released Charlotte just in time to be enveloped in a bear hug fro
m the only mother I’d ever really known.
“You’ve got more of this doodling,” she scolded me, holding me at arm’s length, and gesturing to the sleeve of tattoos I didn’t have on my last visit.
I guess it has been too long.
“I know, Nona, but you know how I like letting oversized, sweaty men, permanently draw on me.”
She chuckled from deep in her belly and gazed at me affectionately.
It was a running joke between us. I’d told her time and time again that my tattoo artist was a woman, but when Nona got a picture in her head it was a tough job to change it.
I heard Charlotte’s soft giggle at the same time as Nona did.
“And who is this?” Nona asked, dropping my arms and reaching for Charlotte.
I smirked at Charlotte’s bewildered face as my grandmother pulled her in for a hug.
“Nona, this is Charlotte, Charlotte, this is my grandmother, Nona.”
Nona released Charlotte and shook her finger at me. “Shhh, boy, don’t be using the g-word in here, one of those old timers will hear ya.” She gestured over her shoulder at a group of older men and women playing a game of bingo in the corner.
Charlotte giggled again and I slipped my arm back around her, tucking her into my side.
“Charlotte,” Nona crooned, taking Charlotte’s hand in hers. “You’ve no idea how lovely it is to meet you, dear. I’ve been waiting five years for Parker to finally bring a girl to see me.”
“Whaa…what?” Charlotte stuttered, looking up at me. “You’ve never brought a girl out here?” she hissed at me.
Nona answered for me before I even had a chance to open my mouth.
“Well there wasn’t no way in hell he was bringing one of those bimbos here to meet me, that’s for sure.”
I gaped at her as Charlotte tried hard not to laugh.
“Yes, I read all about you, boy, you’d do well to remember that,” she told me with her eyes narrowed.
I felt my face heat. No one could embarrass me and bring me back down to earth quite like this woman. It didn’t matter how many millions I made, or how many I put into her account, my Nona never changed. I was still just the little shit grandson that she’d raised and loved with her whole heart.
“I like her,” Charlotte told me gleefully. “She doesn’t put up with any of your shit.”
“Of course not, sweetie,” Nona gushed at my date.
Paper, Scissors, Rock Page 5