I nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ve got a concert tomorrow, so I’ll need it before the evening.”
“All right.” His tongue darts out to touch his lip ring, and he smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Okay. Bye.” I raise a hand to wave, and he laughs as he backs away and then turns and heads for the car. Standing there watching him go, I feel like a high schooler watching my date leave after prom.
“Bye, Nora!” Sebastian yells as the Rover hums to life.
Smiling, I lift my hand to him in a lazy wave, and he waves back. I can’t see Dex through the tinted windows, but I look in his direction anyway. Is he looking back at me? Remembering my body pressed against him? The thought makes me hot all over again.
Turning, I slip my key into the lock and open the front door, then step through after the Rover starts down my street. Inside the condo, I drop my purse to the floor and lean back against the door.
Tonight I went out with Loaded God Complex.
I drank a martini and smoked pot and danced dirty.
I kissed Dex Reid.
Closing my eyes, I recall the taste of his lips, the way he hardened against my thigh.
And I know I am well and truly screwed.
chapter 12
I’M A BIT OF A nervous wreck by the time someone knocks on my door the next day. Knowing Dex would be dropping by, I spent the whole morning cleaning, even though my condo barely needed it. Now every surface is sparkling, and Margot is sitting on the couch in a patch of sunlight, eyeing me warily as I head toward the door.
I picked my outfit carefully; I didn’t want to come across as trying too hard, but I obviously wanted to try, even if just a little. After trying on a few different outfits, I opted for black leggings, a white tee, and a lightweight denim jacket. Back home I’d be wearing a knitted sweater and fuzzy socks right about now, but unlike Colorado, Cali is unusually warm today.
Peeking through the peephole, I confirm it’s Dex. My heart starts to pound, and I take a steadying breath before unlocking and opening the door.
Dex looks up when the door opens, and it’s almost painful how sexy he is. He’s wearing a fitted white tee, ripped jeans, and sneakers, and half of his thick blond hair is pulled up in a messy topknot. My eyes are drawn to the heavy black ink adorning almost every inch of skin on his arms.
“Hey,” he says, and my gaze darts back to his face. He holds up my car key, and I notice my Honda parked in the driveway behind him. “Brought her back safe and sound.”
“Thank you.” I hold out my palm. He drops the key into it, then slips his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
We stand there for a second, neither of us saying anything, and I realize he has nowhere to go. There’s no fancy driver idling at the curb, no Jordan in her white Mercedes waiting to pick him up.
“Um, do you wanna come in?” I open the door a little wider and gesture vaguely into the condo. It seems I’m not nearly as confident around him when I don’t have vodka burning through my veins.
Dex glances over my shoulder, then nods. “Yeah, sure.”
Stepping back, I hold the door open and let him in. He takes one look at my condo, with its shiny floors and countertops, and immediately takes off his shoes and leaves them by the door.
Heart pounding, I close and lock the door, then turn to face him. My mind is scrambling, trying desperately to come up with something to say, but Dex isn’t even looking at me.
His attention is on Margot, who’s glaring at him from across the living room, probably deciding if she’s going to hold her ground or dash to my bedroom and hide under the bed until the strange man is gone.
“You must be Margot,” he says, voice gentle.
A burst of joy goes through me when I realize he must know her name from looking at my photos on Tribe. Somehow, I’m surprised he cared enough to read my captions, let alone remember my cat’s name.
Dex approaches her slowly. Squatting down beside the couch, he offers her his hand. She sniffs it for a few seconds, pauses as if deliberating, and then allows him the honor of scratching her chin.
“Wow,” I say, blinking in genuine surprise. “She usually doesn’t like people.”
“Takes after you, then?” Dex shoots me a look over his shoulder, his lips pulling into a smirk.
“Ouch! I didn’t realize you were coming over here to bully me.” The words slip off my tongue easily; I think this is the first time I’ve bantered with him, and it feels almost . . . normal.
“It’s not an insult,” he says, giving Margot one last scratch under the chin and then standing to his full height, which requires me to look slightly upward. “I don’t like people either.”
I arch a brow, finding it hard to believe that someone so charismatic as Dex Reid could dislike people. “Why?”
“They’re fake. They all want something from you.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice, but I don’t know him well enough to dig.
I suddenly recall what he said on the rooftop lounge about wearing his sunglasses so people won’t talk to him. Yet again, I’m reminded that people—especially rock stars—aren’t always what they seem.
“You hungry?” I ask, heading toward the kitchen in hopes of distracting myself from his tatted forearms and this slightly stilted conversation.
“Starving.” He takes a seat on a stool at the kitchen counter, and looking over at him, I almost have to pinch myself.
Dex Reid is in my condo. In my kitchen. Waiting for something to eat.
“What?” he asks, and I tear my eyes quickly away.
“Um, what do you want?” I yank open the refrigerator and stare at the contents, but my brain feels like mush around Dex.
“Anything,” he says.
