“Eamonn! We’re at work, and what did I tell you about keeping the door open?” She pushed her desk chair back and stood, feeling a strange tingle of adrenaline, like she was about to step into a sparring ring with an unfamiliar opponent.
He raised his eyebrows. “I know, but which is the worse evil here: a closed door, or having someone listen to us talk about last night?”
“We’re not talking about that here.”
“Where else am I going to talk to you, babe?”
She shrugged, seeing the sense of that, but all too conscious of the closed door. Every minute it stayed closed increased the chance that someone would notice. “All right. What, then?”
“You said you couldn’t do bed buddies at night and co-workers during the day.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit uncertain. “So, do you want to, well, date?”
That made her blink. “You’re asking me out?”
He grinned. “Whatever it takes. I mean, it’s a little awkward, the whole fame thing. I tend to stick to low-profile places like the Frog and Ball, my hair is shorter these days and I dress down and wear shades a lot. Don’t want to be recognized. So, we won’t be fancy. But if you don’t mind…”
“I’m not fancy,” Nell said. Surely he could tell that, just from looking? But maybe rock stars were used to women expecting red carpet affairs. “I don’t want anything like that. I told you before, though — I’ve got rules.”
Eamonn raised his eyebrows. “I thought going out was your rule.”
“Nope. Going out just means we’re not ashamed of each other. I’ve got no issue with one-night stands or casual sex; it’s the idea of us coming to work and pretending to be just colleagues afterward that I couldn’t deal with. I don’t want to be anybody’s under-the-table affair.” She pressed her lips together, feeling that she’d said too much.
He cocked his head to one side, looking oddly sympathetic. “Did someone try to do that to you?”
“Not here. I know better than to get involved at work. Or, I used to know better. But I’ll never be a Barbie doll, and I learned the hard way that some guys think I’m good enough for a cuddle but too—” Too strong, too rigid, too opinionated, too blunt. She won trophies, but she’d never be one.
“Well, shit,” he said. “Anyone who thinks like that about you is a tool.” And he came around her desk and put a hand on her shoulder like he wanted to comfort her, but his hand felt really nice, and she couldn’t help turning a little toward him and then she was in his arms, being hugged and sort of rocked against him. It felt too damn safe and nice. “So, what are your rules, babe?” he asked.
“I’ve just got three.” She pulled away from his all-too-comfortable embrace and perched on the edge of her desk. “First of all, if you’re polyamorous or something, tell me now, all right? I’m not knocking non-monogamy; I just need to know what our deal is.”
He looked a little taken aback at that. “Okay, I won’t deny that I’ve done some pretty kinky shit here and there, and some of it involved more than two people. But do I need that? No. You’ve got my full attention.”
“Good. I don’t want to be worrying about where else you’ve been or if you’re clean. So as long as you’re in my bed, you’re not in anyone else’s. Is that acceptable?”
“Sure. I’d actually kind of assumed that was part of going out. What’s rule number two?”
“My martial arts training is really important to me. I need you to understand that. I’m not going to skip training or put social stuff first. You can come watch me train, you can train with me if you want to, or you can do your own thing while I’m training. That’s up to you. But it’s my thing. My life.”
“Okay, I get that. I can respect it.”
“Thank you.” You’d be surprised how many guys don’t get it.
“What’s the third thing?”
“You have to live with integrity. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t.”
He laughed, and it sounded a little defensive. “What does that even mean? I already said I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Integrity. It means doing the right thing even when no one’s looking.” She crossed her arms and gave him her instructor face. “No lies. No illegal drug crap. And you’re going to have to apologize to your guitarist, you know — make things right.”
At her words, he froze, his expression hard. “I, ah, think I already told you that’s not going to happen. That bridge is so fucking burned.” His flat tone didn’t quite mask the layers of hurt and shame underneath.
“He may not be willing to hear it, but you should at least try.” She could tell that he didn’t want to discuss Smidge or what had happened — that she might even push him away — but she still felt compelled to speak up. The idea that he hadn’t even tried to repair his damage ate at her.
“Not really your business, is it?”
“No.” Crap. Her heart sank as he turned to leave. An apology stuck in her mouth, and she couldn’t say it. He’s right — it isn’t my business. But I’m not going to say sorry for caring.
He turned back, hand on the doorknob. “Am I going to regret telling you what happened?”
“I told you, regret is a waste of time.” Nell sighed. “Okay, no lies, no drugs, and we’ll
