Play - Scott Kylie - Страница 12
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I blinked.
“More? Seriously?”
“Please.”
“You know, I’ve never lived with a female before. Well, not since my mom and sisters, and they don’t count. Gimme a minute, this is way harder than it looks.” He threw himself into the black leather wingback chair across from me. Very cool chair. No match for the man sitting in it, but still, nice chair. I waited as he made various pained expressions, finally pinching the bridge of his nose. “You seem like a nice girl, you know?”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Laughter seemed safer. “Thanks.”
“Hang on,” he groaned. “I’m not used to having to talk women into shit, either. Usually, they’re just happy to go along with whatever.”
And I did not blame them one bit. But I was reasonably certain there lay the path to ruin. I’d be trailing around behind him like a lovelorn puppy in no time. Not good.
His fingers tapped out a beat on the rolled wooden chair arms. He was a restless soul, was Malcolm Ericson. Never still. You could see how all of his energy made him such a great drummer. “You know, it was fun hanging out with you last night. I enjoyed it. Cool that you weren’t being psycho or getting in anyone’s face. Despite you being so into me that you get all crazy eyed, I kinda find you strangely soothing to be around right now.”
A shadow passed over his face, there and gone in an instant. If not for Ev’s visit I might have convinced myself I’d imagined it. But no. Something was definitely up with this man.
“You don’t bug me with a lot of questions. Well, you didn’t last night.” He reclined in the chair like a king, resting his ankle on his knee. The energy or tension running through him kept his fingers jittering, endlessly tapping. “Let’s look at it this way. You need money, right?”
I hesitated, but it was the truth. We both knew it. “Right.”
“I need something too.”
My eyes narrowed. If he started yelling about sexual healing again I’d throw him out, cool furniture, drum kit, and all. Or I’d lick him all over. With my current confusion and stress levels, chances were fifty/fifty. An opportunity to throw myself at him might just be too good to miss. After all, how many more chances would I get? My luck had to run out eventually.
“And I think you’ll suit my needs to perfection,” he continued.
“Your needs?”
One side of his mouth hitched higher (forty/sixty). “Every man has needs, young Anne. How old are you, by the way?”
“Twenty-three. I’m aware everyone has needs. But Mal, I’m not going to meet yours.” My nose went high. Sweet baby Jesus, I so badly wanted to meet his needs, but not when he gave me that smug grin. A girl had to have her pride.
“Sure you are.” He laughed softly, evilly, seeing right through me (twenty/eighty). “You’re dying to meet my needs. You can’t look away from my luscious half-naked body. The minute I opened the door you were pawing at me. It was like you were in heat or something.”
Fuck.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, blocking him out in an attempt to regain my wits. If only my heart would stop slipping into cardiac arrest at the sight and sound of him. It would make things so much easier. “No, Mal. I lost my balance when you opened the door on me. Finding you here has actually come as a bit of a surprise. I’m not used to people just moving themselves in with me without some serious discussion up front.”
When I opened my eyes, he was silently watching me. Judging me.
“And I wasn’t pawing at you.”
The too-calm expression on his face spoke volumes. He didn’t believe me, not even a little. “Hey, now, don’t be embarrassed.”
I wasn’t a clueless virgin. My V-card had been stamped with my first and last long-term boyfriend at age sixteen. Since coming to Portland, I’d indulged in the odd date. Why wouldn’t I? I was young and free. I enjoyed sex. Thoughts of mounting a half-naked man on a wingback chair? Not so much.
I was out of control. No way could I let him know this, however.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. I don’t mind you pawing at me. If that’s how you feel the need to express your affection, that’s cool.”
“Mal.” This was going from bad to worse. I don’t even know why I started laughing. “Please stop talking. I need a minute. Consider this a boundary.”
His eyes lit with delight. “Hey, you’ve been thinking about what I said. That’s great. I respect your boundary, Anne.”
“Then why are you still talking?”
“Right. Sorry.”
I tried to find my calm. Why had I never made time for yoga? Deep breathing exercises would have been so useful.
When I opened my eyes, Mal smiled back at me serenely. The arrogant jerk. So confident. So hot. And so damn shirtless. What was with that? It was fall in Portland, cool weather, raining on and off. Normal people wore clothes this time of year.
“Can you put a shirt on?”
He scratched at his chin. “Mm, no. That’s my boundary, sorry. I like your sexy looks too much to get dressed.”
Crap, was I making crazy eyes?
“You’re perfect,” he muttered, smirk firmly in place.
Damn it, I was.
“What do you think my needs are, Anne?”
“I’m aware you’re talking about sex, Mal. That’s kind of obvious. But why, out of all the women at your disposal, would you choose me? That I don’t understand. And why you would move yourself in with me, I don’t really get that either. You could have gone to a hotel or rented a place of your own much nicer than here.”
“Noooo.” He slumped back in the seat, laying his meshed fingers on his flat belly. “I’m not talking about sex. I like to think you and I are above all of that messy, physical stuff, despite your infatuation with me. What I need is a girlfriend … well, a pretend girlfriend, and you, Anne Rollins, are perfect.”
“Fuck, what?”
He burst out laughing.
“You’re joking,” I said, relieved. Well, mad and relieved. Were rock stars so bored these days they had to resort to such extremes for entertainment?
“No, I’m not joking. Your reaction was funny, is all.” Long fingers brushed back his blond hair, pulling it off his face. “This is serious, a business transaction, and it’s gotta be kept on the down low. I’ve paid your rent. I got you furniture to replace what that asshole friend of yours took. In return, I want you to play my girlfriend for a while.”
My jaw gave way to gravity. “You’re not serious.”
“Why do you never believe anything I say? Anne, I am very serious.”
“Why me?”
He sighed and stared at the ceiling long and hard. “I dunno, the way you helped your friend out, even if she didn’t do right by you.”
“Mal, that doesn’t make me a good person. It makes me an idiot.” Given how things had gone down it was nothing less than the cold, hard truth. “You basically said as much yourself last night. I let her use me.”
Mal bared his teeth. “Hey, I never said you were an idiot and I don’t want to hear you talking like that again. There’s another boundary, right there.”
“O-kay, relax.”
“I am perfectly relaxed. Look, we’ve all got our problems, Anne. I never said you were perfect.” He paused, scratched his chin. “Oh, no wait. I did say that. Well, I didn’t mean it exactly like … not that you’re not great and everything but … yeah, let’s move this on.”
“No. Come on, rock star. How did you mean it?” I asked, suppressing a giggle. It was just him. I couldn’t help it, the man was hilarious.
He waved away the question. “No, we’ve moved on. Out of interest, did it even occur to you to hit Ev up for the money you needed last night?”
I reared back in surprise. “What? No.”
“She’d have given it to you. Fuck knows her and Davie have got it.”
“It’s not her problem.”
He gave me another smug look.
“That proves nothing. And if you’ve chosen me for my ethics then am I really the best person to be lying to your friends and family, Mal?”
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