She sulked into the kitchen to retrieve food as I watched. Lissa was right; she did have caramel skin, flawless under the tavern lighting. She was long and lean, and the longer I stared the more familiar she looked.
“Your eyes just got all bug-eyed...” Lissa’s voice trailed off as I walked over to Regan.
“Hey,” I whispered into his ear as CJ spun his sticks around, otherwise occupied. I grabbed his heated hand and pulled him into the narrow hallway in front of the back room.
Regan looked around, confused. “What?”
“That’s Willow Shaw.” I pointed to CJ.
“Wow, you’re really a Six fan, huh?” He leaned against the wall and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops.
“First of all, get your thumbs out of there. This isn’t a saloon in the Wild West. Second of all, yes, I’m a big fan, but everyone knows who she is.”
“She’s not in the band...” Regan looked back to Willow, as if to double check we were talking about the same person.
I slapped his arm, attempting to stop his open gawking. “No, but she’s kind of a socialite of the music scene here. She’s produced a few of her parents’ solo albums, and has worked in conjunction with major labels on some chart-toppers.”
“Okay, that’s good ... right?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but we have to keep her away from CJ. She’s famous for her abilities in the studio, but notorious for her activities ... elsewhere, if you know what I mean.”
Regan’s lips pursed into an incredulous scoff. “Please, Georgia. We can’t tell CJ a single shred of that. That kind of girl is his holy grail.”
“I just don’t want her to use her status in the industry to get him into bed.”
“She doesn’t have to get him anywhere.”
Anxiety simmered in my throat. “I just don’t like her.”
I didn’t like any girl like Willow, throwing their breasts around as often as their talent. I didn’t understand why women had to do that.
“The way you’re looking at her,” Regan interrupted my thoughts, “that’s the same way Ember was looking at you the night you almost kicked her ass.”
I pulled my head back. “I didn’t almost kick anyone’s ass.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Well...” Shit. He was right. “Is that what Ember thought of me ... wait ... is that what you think of me?”
Regan shook his head. “I don’t think anything, Georgia. I just met you. I do, though, want to apologize for this morning. I didn’t mean to ... you know ... make it weird. I didn’t mean to almost kiss you.” He looked down, clearing his throat in the way guys do when they’re uncomfortable.
“Great. You think I’m like her. Willow. Fan-tastic.” I attempted to go back to the bar, but he grabbed my wrist.
“I don’t think you’re like anyone—”
“Ow.” I couldn’t help but wince as his finger pressed onto the edge of my bruise.
He lifted his fingers, looking at my skin and realizing his misstep. “Sorry. I...” He grabbed my arm a little further up, lifting my hand so the bruise was between us. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Stop thinking about me, then,” I snapped, pulling my arm back.
“No,” he retorted defensively. There was a devoted determination circling his words.
“Wh—”
“I’m your neighbor now, anyway. Look, I didn’t mean to offend you, but just ... be safe, okay? I’m keeping an eye on you.” He smiled, and I was actually thankful he didn’t have a single dimple. It would have distracted from the red scruff popping up along his jawline.
My mouth swung open for a few seconds. “I ... don’t know what just happened here, but let me try to recap. You don’t want to kiss me, right?”
“Right.”
“Good.”
“You don’t think I’m like Willow, but Ember does.”
“I don’t pretend to know what Ember thinks, and we don’t gossip about girls.” His eyebrow twitched up impishly.
“And, for some reason, you think you need to look out for me?”
He shrugged unapologetically. “CJ asked me to.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m going to.”
“Why, for the love of God, is the Kane family so fucking stubborn?” I huffed, placing my hands on my hips.
“Most of us were born under the sign of the bull.”
“You’re a smartass.”
“I am.” He nodded once, his smile widening, lifting the tops of his ears.
“Why don’t you want to kiss me?” I challenged. I knew he was lying, but I wanted to know why. “Girlfriend?”
“No.” The tops of his ears dropped along with his face. “I don’t want to kiss anyone.”
“Are you gay?” It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen him checking out, or trying to pick up, any girls either night he’d been at E’s.
“No.”
“Ah, broken heart, then?”
He half-huffed, half-chuckled. “That’s the G-rated version.”
“What does the R-rated cut look like?”
“I’ll tell you what my R-rated is, if you tell me yours.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing several times.
“What do you mean mine?” I knew CJ hadn’t told him anything, but I got goosebumps anyway.
“Everyone’s got an R-rated version of their pain, Georgia.”
He wasn’t going to budge. It was something big. So was mine.
“Another time, maybe.”
He squinted as he grinned. “Deal. I know where to find you.”