I nod, but don’t believe her, scooting over to her on the bench seat. Keeping my arm on the back of it, almost around her. I could play with her hair, or touch her skin if I just moved my fingers a couple inches.
“Then tell me something about yourself. Tell me everything. Tell mewhoyou are.”
She opens her mouth and then shuts it again, trying to drink from the glass that still only has ice in it. I should offer to get her another one, but I don’t want to move from this spot. I’m so close to her, I could be closer if she’ll let me. But I don’t want to ruin the chance of it if I get up again.
“What do you want to know?” Her voice is soft and hesitant.
“Who’s Rae Colver?” I ask, knowing her stage name is Rae Sparks. But that’s not who she is, and that’s one thing I know.
She hesitates answering. I thought she was confident, I mean she has to be to get on stage and perform, but right now she seems nervous, unsure, and not at all like the pop star that performs in front of thousands of people.
“I—I don’t know.” She finally sighs. “I thought I knew, but…”
“Sounds like you should figure that out.”
“What about you?” she counters. “Who’s Asher Hudson?”
My teeth grind together, and I don’t want to admit that my answer is the exact same as hers. I don’t know. I thought I did, but without MMA, I don’t know. Instead of answering seriously, I do the one thing I know I’m good at. I divert.
Leaning over, speaking softly into her ear, “Right now, I want to know what would happen if I touched you.”
I move the tips of my fingers onto her shoulder, and she sucks in a sharp breath. I’m frustrated that I can’t rest my other hand on her leg while holding her against me. I have to be creative with my current limitation. My fingers run through her soft hair as I push it off her shoulder, revealing more of her skin and I want to know how soft it’ll feel against my lips.
She hasn’t tried to stop me.
I push further.
“Should we find out?”
Again, she doesn’t try to stop me. Not even when I move my arm from around her, between us to rest on her thigh. I’m looking at her, and she’s looking down at my hand. I move higher up on her leg, inching closer to her center, wishing she was wearing something other than these fucking jeans.
“Is Rae a good girl, then?” I goad.
Her teeth click, and she grabs my hand, stopping me from moving any higher. But she doesn’t remove it.
“I might have been,” she says. “But maybe I don’t want to be anymore.”
“Is that why you agreed to go out with me?”
“Maybe.”
“What would you have done tonight if you didn’t come out with me?”
Rae shrugs. “Stayed home. Maybe wrote some music.”
I hum, raising an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes then sighs.
“I guess I am boring,” she murmers.
“Let’s see about that,” I challenge.
“How?”
“Want to prove that you’re not agood girl?”
She sucks in a sharp breath. I take that as enough of a response.
“Let’s go.” Grabbing her hand, I pull her out of the booth. She doesn’t question me, and doesn’t try to yank her hand away. She doesn’t even try to move away as we leave and head toward my car.