"I bet I can guess what color panties you're wearing." His eyes flashed with a wicked glint.
"Black," I said immediately. "No need to guess."
"I'll need to check for myself to make sure you're not lying."
My stomach clenched at the heat in his words. I pressed my thighs together unconsciously, accidentally squeezing his knee in the process. The fire in his eyes flared up. The vibrant green of them almost made me want to spread my thighs, to open up to him.
The more sane part of my brain told me to shut this down, now.
I shifted in my seat abruptly, dislodging his leg, sitting up prim and proper.
"Remember our conversation?" I asked. "No dating, no touching."
"I can't believe you're really serious about that." Disgruntled disappointment crossed Damon's face.
"Is dating really that horrible of an idea?" I asked.
He looked thoughtful. "It's not a horrible idea," he said slowly.
"Did some girl break your heart and now you've sworn to never love again?" I asked, half joking.
He frowned. "No. I'm not heartbroken or traumatized or anything like that. It's just, why would I have wanted to be tied down to one woman when there have been so many throwing themselves at me?"
I stared at him in disbelief. "So Mr. Rock-Star-Sex-God doesn't want to settle down. It's as simple as that?"
"I've never had a reason to." He shrugged. "What can I say, I've been drowning in puss—"
"Don't even finish that disgusting sentence," I warned, cutting him off. I grabbed my purse in a huff and slid out of the booth. "I can't believe I thought we could have one normal afternoon working together."
"I didn't mean it to sound like that." Damon jolted up after me. "Why are you always getting so upset?"
"Maybe I'm just too sensitive," I shot back sarcastically. "I'm sure the models and groupies you sleep with don't mind being tossed aside, but I'm not that girl."
"You're so judgmental." His mouth twisted. "All the girls I sleep with know the deal."
"Exactly," I said, tapping my finger against the back of the booth in agitation. "I know your deal and I don't want any part of it."
His eyebrows drew down into a frown. "You really have something against fun, don't you?"
"Good bye Damon," I ground out through clenched teeth.
I turned on my heel and left.
Chapter Twelve
The cafe was noisier than usual. I preferred to get my coffee at off-peak hours to avoid the crowded lines. But today was my standing lunch date with my sister, so we were right in the middle of the afternoon rush.
"…we're really excited to have everything back to normal, as hectic as it can be."
I nodded at her and took a sip of my coffee.
I still couldn't get over what Damon had said. How could he possibly try to feel me up in public and then turn around and start talking about the hoards of girls he has to choose from? How could he be possibly thinking I'd be okay hearing something like that?
"Cassie's planning a party to welcome him home," Hope continued.
"Mm-hm," I said vaguely.
That jerk had the audacity to hit on me every time we saw each other, and yet couldn't get it through his thick head that I just wasn't interested in casual sex.
"You remember I told you about Cassie?" Hope continued. "The one who took all those photos of Ian on tour? She asked me to invite anyone who might want to come."
"That's nice," I murmured.
At this point, I wouldn't even accept if he asked me out on a date. That jerk didn't deserve my time or attention.
"Damon's going to be there."
I fumbled with my paper cup, nearly spilling the piping hot liquid all over my blouse.
Hope pointed an accusatory finger at me. "I knew it."
I hastened to steady my coffee before I burned myself. "Knew what?"
"You and Damon," she said, a twinkle in her eyes.
"What about us?" I asked. "We're working together. That's all."
"It's more than that," she said. "There's something going on between you two."
"Sure there is," I said, pretending to fix the lid on my cup to avoid her eyes. "Animosity and hostility."
She shook her head. "There's more to it. He's been snippy and moping and being a general drag lately. He's always asking about you and you're always asking about him."
"I'm not always—!" I began to protest. "It was just the once—"
"Faith." Hope stopped me with one of those looks she often gave people. That searching, probing look that told me she was trying to dissect me from the inside out.
"He's been hitting on me since day one," I said, feigning a casual shrug. "I keep on shutting him down. He'll give up eventually."
"Do you want him to?" she asked, eyes oddly penetrating.
I nearly choked on my tongue as a dozen different replies popped into my head. I pressed my lips firmly together, trying to straighten out my thoughts into a coherent answer.
"He's practically your brother-in-law," I said, deciding to deflect instead. "You know what he's like."
Hope examined me. "I've never seen him so fixated on one girl for this long before."
"No girl has ever made it this hard on him," I told her. "I'm a challenge. It's a game to him. Everything is. I'm not going to let him win."
"It's not about winning or losing," she said. "It's about two people who are attracted to each other. Two people who might be developing feelings for one another."
"The only feeling I have concerning Damon is acute loathing."
Hope stared at me, before quirking a small smile. "Is that all?"
"Yes," I insisted. "He's always saying things to piss me off. Gross stuff about his sex life and making comments about my body and calling me a workaholic like Dad—"
I cut myself off as pain flashed across Hope's face.
I hadn't wanted to mention Dad. I hated seeing Hope get hurt, and any mention of him usually did the trick.
"You're nothing like our father," my sister said quietly, looking down at her own coffee.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring up…" I trailed off.
The two of us sat in awkward silence.
"I haven't heard from him in months," Hope spoke up, still not looking at me. "I don't think he even knows about me and Ian."
"He does. I told him."
She looked at me, a flicker of something like dread in her eyes. "Did he say anything?"
"He's happy for you," I lied. "He talked about all of us getting together for a dinner some time soon. He wants to meet the man who's making you so happy."
A small hopeful look crossed my sister's face. "Really?"
I winced internally. I shouldn't have lied. It would just make finding out the truth that much worse. She still didn't know how bad it was. Didn't know how sick he was. She thought he was still the same workaholic he'd been during our youth.
If she knew how far he'd fallen… if she knew how much care he needed… She'd want to help out. She would insist. I couldn't let that happen. Hope didn't need to face our father's indifference. Didn't need to be reminded of how much he resented us.
I'd just have to make sure Hope never found out.
"His job keeps him so busy, though. It may take some time to coordinate our schedules," I said, making up an excuse on the fly.
She nodded. "Just let me know when and where, and we'll be there." She sat up straighter on her chair, smile returning. "Maybe we can invite Damon along and make it a double date?" she said, only half-teasing.
"That would be a world of no," I said firmly. "I don't even want to be in the same room as him."
"That's going to make planning your event kind of hard."
"He's the one who keeps playing games. I'm all for keeping it professional."
"Have you told him that directly?" she asked.
"Well," I hedged, thinking about my offer, or ultimatum, or whatever you wanted to call it. I'd as good as told
him I was interested in him. I just had certain caveats. "Sort of."
"If you really want him to back off, just tell him."
Hope's advice sounded perfectly reasonable. It was true that the moment I'd said stop that day in my office, Damon had immediately halted. But then I'd told him to ask me out.
"I suppose I might be giving him mixed signals," I said grudgingly. "It's just…"
"You like him," she said simply.
"He's an ass," I said automatically.
"You're not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself," she pointed out. Hope reached out across the table and took my hand. "There's two things I think could happen," she continued. "One, you get together and bring out the worst in each other. Two, you get together and bring out the best in each other."
"Damon's idea of getting together is a quick hump and dump."
Hope let out a small sound of understanding. "He's not really the commitment type."
I snorted. "Gee, really? I hadn't noticed."
"I don't think he would still be pursuing you if he wasn't interested in you for real," Hope said. "He's got a million girls to choose from. If he just wanted a quick lay, he could snap his fingers and have a girl at his door within minutes."
I grimaced. That was exactly what Damon had said. And that was exactly what had pissed me off.
Then again, he'd also admitted that dating wouldn't be a horrible idea. It wasn't the enthusiastic response I would have liked, but he hadn't dismissed it out of hand.
Maybe I had been a bit too hasty in getting upset.
"Cassie's throwing a welcome home party for August," Hope told me again. "Damon's going to be there. Why don't you make an appearance?"
I hesitated. I'd resolved to ignore Damon except when absolutely necessary for my job.
"At least do it for me," she cajoled. "I told you. He's been acting different lately. He's a pain to be around. Talk it out and settle things once and for all. You do have to work together, after all."
"If he says one more thing to piss me off—"
"If he's a jerk, I'll kick him out myself," Hope assured me.
I gave in with a weary nod.
I couldn't keep agonizing over this. It was distracting. I hated distractions.
One way or another, I was going to resolve things with Damon, even if it meant throwing him out on his ass.
Chapter Thirteen
I was never one to be shy at parties. My job was to mingle with strangers, after all. But this was different. This crowd wasn't full of professional clients or business people or other corporate drones. This was a wild mishmash of leather, eyeliner and crazy hair. Most of the guests had dressed down into casual clothing, but even casual for rock stars was wilder than standard jeans and t-shirts. I had to admit, it was a little intimidating.
I'd been to one of Hope's rock star shindigs before so I recognized a few faces here and there, but none were familiar enough to go up and start chatting. I certainly didn't know anybody by name.
I didn't have to stand awkwardly in the corner for long. August, the drummer of Darkest Days, and his girlfriend soon arrived to a chorus of welcoming cheers. Hope said he had been in the hospital, but I didn't know the details. He looked well enough, so I had to assume he'd fully recovered from whatever ailment he'd been suffering.
Sipping my drink, I surveyed the room, trying to identify someone who looked normal enough for me to go up and introduce myself to. I received a few odd stares. I had to assume it was because I was identical to Hope. Gazes would lock on mine, then drift over to where my sister was snuggled up to her boyfriend's side, then wander back to me with a look of confusion.
Sure enough, the young woman who'd been at August's side, Cassie, came up to me, mistaking me for Hope. After correcting her, that same confused look appeared on her face.
"You're Hope's twin?" she asked, head tilting to the side. "And Hope is dating Ian. Who is also a twin."
"Don't remind me." I tried to keep my face from twisting into a frown. I don't know if I succeeded. "I'd prefer to think of Ian as an only child and forget about that brother of his."
The look of confusion only deepened, but she didn't comment on it. We chatted a bit about her photos — she'd been the official photographer for Darkest Days' last tour. Hope had saved every single shot of Ian she'd taken. When I mentioned it, Cassie looked startled, before her lips curved into a soft smile. She liked the idea that her photos helped keep Hope and Ian close, even when they were apart.
"He's so good to her," I said, flicking my eyes over to where the two of them talked quietly to each other, hand in hand. "I always worried my sister would end up with some…" I shook my head, not wanting to get into it. Hope's less than fortunate dating history wasn't something I liked to bring up. "Anyway," I deflected. "Ian's a great guy. I couldn't ask for a better future brother-in-law."
If only that brother-in-law didn't come attached with an egotistical, womanizing twin.
When August came to whisk Cassie away, I noticed the adoring look in his eyes when he smiled down at her. A flicker of envy hit me. Both Hope and Cassie had loving, caring men in their lives who clearly doted on them. As envious as I was, I couldn't help the tilt of my lips as I thought about it. They were lucky girls.
"There's that cute smile," a voice said.
Suppressing the urge to sigh heavily, I turned my head to find Damon approaching.
My belly immediately tightened. Damon was dressed in heavily ripped skinny jeans and a black and white Pantera t-shirt. His tattoos were on display. Without realizing it, I found my gaze scanning the rolling hills of those firm muscles. They flexed with every movement of his arms. And his chest… his t-shirt was so tight, his toned stomach muscles were clearly visible. My fingers begged me to reach out and touch.
"My eyes are up here," Damon said.
I snapped my head up, refusing to let a flush flood my cheeks.
"If you've had your fill of ogling me…" That knowing smirk on his face was as sexy as it was infuriating. I gritted my teeth. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."
I was about to shoot back, it's a free country, but stopped myself. I'd agreed to talk with Damon and try to clear the air between us. If nothing else, I promised my sister.
"Talk away," I said with a wave of my hand.
A look on consternation crossed his face. "Are you going to listen to what I have to say or have you already decided you're angry with me and nothing will change your mind?"
"I'm not angry with you," I replied automatically.
"Is that why your smile immediately turned into a glare the moment you heard my voice?"
"I'm not glaring," I said. "I'm waiting for you to tell me whatever it is you have to tell me."
Damon lifted his eyes to the heavens as if praying for patience. "I'm sorry, okay?"
I blinked, startled. "Did you just apologize?"
"Yeah." His hands hung at his sides.
"I didn't think you knew how to do that," I said.
"I don't make a habit of it." Damon looked vaguely disgruntled, but oddly sincere. "I don't mean to be disrespectful," he continued. "I just say things without thinking about them."
"That's an understatement," I said.
His eyes snapped to mine. "Are you going to let me finish?"
"Is there more?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. Two apologies in a row."
This time it was Damon's turn to grit his teeth. "Don't know why I let your sister talk in me into this," he grumbled under his breath.
"Hope told you to apologize?" I asked.
"No one tells me to do anything," he said. "She just mentioned that maybe, sometimes, my mouth runs off and says things it shouldn't. I guess I've been in a bad mood and she knew something was up."
I shouldn't have been surprised. Hope always did have an uncanny insight into people.
"I also wanted to apologize about what I said before," he continued.
"And if I ask you to clarify exactly what that was…?" I asked.
His lips twisted into a frown. "You really want me to go into detail?"
"I just want us to be clear on what you're apologizing for."
"I'm sorry I made that drowning in pussy comment."
My stomach roiled just hearing those words.
"And I'm sorry I kept touching you after you laid down the rules," he continued. "I should have respected your boundaries."
I blinked again, shocked as hell. "I didn't think you knew what boundaries were either."
"I know what they are." An almost impish smile crossed his lips. "I just usually ignore them."
I couldn't help but let out a small huff of a laugh.
"No one can say you're not aware of your faults," I noted.
"I know I'm not perfect," he shrugged.
"Your fans would disagree," I said.
"My fans aren't the ones I needed to say sorry to," he said. "So am I forgiven?"
I scanned him up and down, contemplating for long moments.
He put on a look of long-suffering. "How about I let you think about it while I get us a drink?"
With his apologies over with, Damon left to get us that drink. I eyed him as he maneuvered his way through the crowd.
The man could admit it when he was wrong. That was better than most guys. He realized he'd screwed up, or at the very least, my sister had metaphorically smacked him over the head with the fact he'd done something wrong, and he'd come to say he was sorry.
It seemed like I had to reevaluate my opinion of Damon on a daily basis.
While waiting for him to come back with our drinks, I scanned the room again. The size of the group had almost doubled. There were even more unfamiliar faces, people who had shown up fashionably late. As someone who always showed up fifteen minutes early to everything, the thought made my back itch.
A blond girl over in the corner looked familiar. After thinking for a moment, I placed her. She'd applied for a position through my company a while back. We'd been looking for classical musicians to act as a string quartet for our fancier events. If I recalled correctly, she played the cello.
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