“I’m not staring. But you’re fucking gorgeous when you blush and I can’t help but wonder how far down that blush goes.”
My jaw drops, then I quickly close it again.
“I guess you are honest.”
He smiles, that damn cocky smile, and I’m just . . . mad.
“Guilty.”
“And too charming for your own good.”
“Charming isn’t a bad thing.”
I laugh, but not in an oh, you’re so funny way, and his face sobers.
“Do you really think you’re getting in my pants with this? Buy me a drink, say sexy things, use the impossible-to-say-no-to body language?”
“It’s just a drink and conversation, Addie.”
“Right. I don’t buy it. I’ve been down this road before with men like you, Jake, on a motorcycle with no helmet going way too fast, and all that it leads to is a fiery crash.”
“Look—”
“No, you look.” I slide off the stool and pace away, too much energy flowing through my body. Too much frustration. My heels echo in the silent room. “I’ve dated a dozen of you, and you’re all the same.”
“No. We’re not.” I turn to find his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.
“Oh, really? Are you telling me that you haven’t been with countless women?” I cross my arms, cock my hip to the side, and watch him clench his hands into fists.
But he doesn’t deny it.
“Are you going to deny ever having some poor girl think she means something to you, but all the while you were with someone else in the same night?”
He swallows hard and stands, but still doesn’t say anything.
“Don’t try to tell me that you’re not a man-whore, Jake, because I know differently. I’ve dated the bad boy my whole life. And I’ve read the tabloids. I know your past.” His face transforms for just a split second into pure pain, then it’s gone and all that’s left is . . . nothing.
After what feels like ten minutes of silence, he simply nods and says, “Well, I guess you just have it all figured out, don’t you?” He looks me up and down, then turns and walks out of the bar.
Not two seconds later, Mia comes out of the kitchen, surprising me.
“What are you still doing here?”
“He didn’t deserve that, Addie.”
I blink rapidly and march behind the bar to pour myself another glass of wine.
“They’re all the same, Mia, and it was insulting to both of us for him to deny it. I’m sick of being lied to. I’m sick of being hit on by men who only want to get up my skirt, but don’t give a flying fuck about my feelings.”
“He was being nice to you.”
“Of course he was.”
“Addie, Jake isn’t the one you walked in on last night fucking two other women.”
My gaze whips over to hers and I frown. “I wasn’t taking that out on Jake.”
“Bullshit.”
Tears gather in my eyes and I turn away, embarrassed, and not a little ashamed because Mia’s right; he didn’t deserve it.
“I’m a bitch.”
“You’re not a bitch, you’re hurt, and you don’t want to be attracted to him.”
“I’m not attracted to him.”
Mia smirks and shakes her head. “Okay.”
“Fine, I’m attracted to him, but I’m trying really hard not to be.”
“Not every person is the same, Addie.”
“I just deserve so much more, Mia. I don’t understand what it is about me that screams, Fuck me over. Hurt me. I like it.”
The tears want to flow, but I swallow and hold them back.
“Your luck with men has just been shitty,” she says. “I guess you could say that about all of us.”
“Boy, you’re not kidding.”
Suddenly we hear the front door open and close.
“We’re alone,” Mia says soothingly. “It’s okay to cry, you know.”
“No it’s not. It doesn’t accomplish anything.”
“Oh, Addie. You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s just you and me. You can be vulnerable for five minutes and let it out. I won’t tell.”
She puts her arm around my shoulders, and I cave. I lean my head on her shoulder and cry, thankful that I have someone, four someones really, that I can be weak with. Because God knows I learned long ago that showing anyone else weakness will only get your heart torn out and shredded.
And I’m never going down that road again, on a motorcycle or otherwise.
Chapter Four
Jake
It’s been a month since I started playing at Seduction on the weekends. These gigs have been more fun for me than any other I’ve performed, and I’ve played at all the major awards shows, celebrity weddings, and the biggest arenas in the world.
Yet, sitting on this stool with my guitar, playing new and old songs for a room full of maybe a hundred people fulfills me more than any of those other performances did. Because this is on my terms. It’s just me and the music, in its most raw form, and I crave it more strongly than I ever thought I did.
It’s addicting.
“Ashley, you can go after you finish wrapping that silverware,” Addie says to her lead server, who’s currently counting out her tips.
Speaking of craving.
Addison is one hell of a woman. Yes, she’s gorgeous on the outside. Tall and blond with curves in all the right places, she makes everything male in me stand up and take notice. But she’s so fucking smart too. She has this place running like a well-oiled machine. Her staff respects and likes her, and the customers are always her priority. It’s not a hardship in the least to watch her mingle from table to table as I sing, catching her gaze once in a while.