I made a mental note to have Andre help Sledge with that, so we didn’t have another theft.
I locked the door, and as I escorted her up the hall, back to the club, she asked me, “So, what did you think of your first DJ Summer show?”
“It was hot,” I admitted.
She grinned. “Why, thank you, Ronan.”
I glanced at her. “Honestly, it was a lot more… intense… than I expected.”
She stopped dead. “How so?”
I stopped with her. “I don’t know. I guess I pictured something a little more happy-pop-music. College girls dancing, while chachi guys pounded beers and watched them dance?”
“I guess you were wrong,” she said.
“Yeah. You’re kind of a powerhouse, DJ Summer.”
“Yes, I am,” she said.
Fuck, I liked her confidence. Her sass.
Her everything.
“And how was the security level for you?” she teased. “Did anyone breech the zone of safety?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” She smiled.
I’d had enough teasing from her this afternoon, at her fitting, and yet I ate it up. Hungrily.
I didn’t even want her to go back out into the bar, just stand right here with me in the hall, alone, and give me the gears.
But she turned to head out there.
“You have a lot of interesting friends,” I said.
She stopped again. “Interesting… how?”
“What’s that line from the Eagles song… about all the pretty boys, the ones she calls friends?”
“He knows the lyrics to ‘Hotel California,’” she mused. “Fascinating.”
“Is it?”
“It says something about you. I’m not sure what, yet.”
“Let me know when you figure it out,” I said.
She studied me. “Do the pretty boys bother you, Ronan?”
“Why would they bother me?”
She looked me over. Up and down, slowly. “You seem bothered.”
“I’m not bothered.”
Fuck. I sounded like a jealous teenager.
“Then why bring it up?” she said cooly.
“Just letting you know, I heard you fielding a lot of offers. For afterparties.”
Her pale-blue eyes narrowed at me a little. I noticed she’d removed the feather eyelashes.
I also noticed I was getting waaay too in-her-face.
“Did you.”
“And you should also know,” I informed her, “I’m taking you home. Soon.”
Why was I fucking looming over her?
And when did my voice get so unnecessarily growly?
She tipped her head, giving me a look that said, And who the fuck are you to get growly with me?
“And what if I’m not going home?”
“I go where you go,” I reminded her. “And if you think I’m sitting outside in my car while you bang some guy in his apartment, you’re dead wrong.”
Her mouth floated open.
But instead of telling me off for that, like I probably deserved, she recovered quickly. She sipped her drink, studying me. Then she turned on her heel and headed for the door to the bar.
I beat her to it and opened it for her.
She met my eyes, once, then strut past me into the VIP area, where her “friends” were waiting to swarm her again.
I put up with it for maybe another half-hour, restless and irritated. Then I had Andre bring my car around to the back door. I told Summer it was time to go.
She said nothing, neither agreeing or disagreeing with that.
She took another twenty minutes, at least, saying her goodbyes, while I grew increasingly agitated.
Then she followed me out back without a word and I drove her home. In complete silence.
She didn’t say a word to me.
When we got to her house, she went up to bed, alone.
And I went to bed in her guest room… after jerking off in her bathroom again, thinking about her tits spilling out of that silver top, as she danced in my head.
Chapter Fourteen
Summer
The next morning, I was up by eight o’clock. Early for me, especially the morning after an event. But I had come home at like two a.m., alone, and gone straight to bed, so I’d gotten an okay sleep.
It was filled with weird dreams of last night’s show, and Ronan driving his car. Without a shirt on. I wasn’t even sure how those things connected in the dream, but they were in there.
I slipped on a robe and headed down to the kitchen. The house smelled gloriously of coffee, which meant Ronan had been up. I didn’t see him, though.
When I peeked down the hall to his room, his door was shut, and I could hear the rumble of his voice; he must’ve been on the phone.
I could see a set of free weights on the sunroom floor, so maybe he’d already gotten a workout in. Someone must’ve dropped them by for him this morning? Because they weren’t there yesterday.
He’d told me he worked out with a personal trainer, and that he trained some of his employees in mixed martial arts; he’d asked me if it was okay if they do that here. In the sunroom or in the basement, wherever they wouldn’t be in my way.
I didn’t have a problem with that. Having to see fit men working out in my house wasn’t exactly an inconvenience.
I wondered if his trainer had already come and gone this morning. The man was an early riser like I’d never known.
I fixed myself a coffee and threw together a quick breakfast scramble with eggs and some random leftovers, just trying to clean out the fridge before I headed out of town. I was flying to Toronto later today.
Well, Ronan and I were flying to Toronto.
I made breakfast for him too, and left it on the warm pan on the stove. I texted him that it was there, and headed back upstairs with my breakfast. I put on my fluffy slippers and enjoyed my food and coffee out on the balcony off my bedroom—while I tried not to think about Blair climbing up here just days ago.
I’d had
