Roni Loren - Call On Me

“I have a daughter to worry about.”

He released a breath. “I get that. Believe me.”

“Do you?” she asked, clearly unconvinced.

He glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. “Yes. I do. My dad walked out on us when I was five and left us with jack shit. After that, I can’t tell you how many ‘friends’ my mom brought home to play daddy and help pay the bills over the years. I hated those guys. Hated those men who used my mom and acted like they had some say over me and my brothers and sisters. I’d never want to be that guy.”

He could still remember the first boyfriend—Louis. Pike had been young and gullible enough to let himself get attached to that one. Louis would play baseball with him sometimes, so he’d thought he was a good guy. But he’d been a petty criminal with a mean streak and had disappeared after getting in a bar fight that left a man with a brain injury. His mom had been pregnant at the time. That had started the pattern of the many dangerous, destructive men who would come into his family’s life, wreak havoc, and bail without looking back.

Oakley frowned and he braced himself for the trite sympathy. Why the hell had he let himself tell her that? No one besides Foster and Gibson knew about his background. Even the band had a false bio for him.

But she didn’t do the oh-you-poor-thing routine. She simply nodded. “So you get it, then.”

He shoulders loosened. “I get why you need to protect her. But I also get that there are ways around it. She doesn’t have to know. You’ve kept your night job private. We could keep this private.”

She sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

It was. It could be. He eyed her. “So this isn’t just about Reagan, then. This is about you.”

A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “Maybe.”

“Because of the relationship thing? You want that?”

“I—” She frowned in frustration. “I don’t know what I want. I mean, we’re doing the honest thing, right?”

He nodded.

“Good. Then I’m not going to be a bitch and lie about the night on the phone. That was great. I needed that. God, did I need that. But I know myself. The minute I take this a step further, my emotions are going to get involved. I’m not—” She looked around at the others backstage. “I’m not like these women. I don’t judge them for taking what they want and having a good time, I just can’t relate. I had a kid when I was still a kid. I didn’t go through the stage where you layer up that tough skin, where you can just hook up for fun and move on. I tried it in my early twenties and I sucked at it. I’m not built for what you’d want from me.”

“I think you’re a lot tougher than you give yourself credit for,” he said, not trying to push her but sharing his honest opinion. The girls he’d met backstage city after city had nothing on Oakley. She’d raised a kid on her own, was holding down two jobs, and had no qualms about laying out what she needed from a guy. Potential. A relationship. There was no apology there. No game. He liked that.

Even if he wasn’t the guy who could fulfill it.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get it out, long, bare legs appeared in his periphery. He turned right as Holly lowered herself into the spot next to Pike. Her hand went to his knee. “I’m about to head out. You ready?”

Oakley seemed to grow in height as her spine stiffened in the chair.

A flash of anger whipped through Pike at the interruption and uninvited touch. He put his hand over Holly’s and moved it off his leg. “I was in the middle of a private conversation.”

“No, it’s okay,” Oakley said, moving to get up, her voice tight. “I need to get going anyway.”

Holly smiled, victory in her eyes.

Fuck . Pike stood. “No, Oakley, don’t. Please stay.”

Her jaw twitched as her gaze slid over to Holly. “It’s okay. I think three’s a crowd.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Holly said, suggestion in her tone.

Jesus Christ. Pike swiped a hand over his face. “Holly, give us a few minutes.”

Holly shrugged, but didn’t look too perturbed, probably because she figured he was going to work out a threesome with Oakley. She stood and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll just go and grab a drink.”

She sauntered off, her heels clicking on the concrete in a slow, purposeful beat. Pike moved closer to Oakley. “I’m sorry about that. I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a dismissive lift of her shoulder. “It’s fine. I know how all this works. That’s why I can’t be a part of it. I’m not built for this. For you.” She cocked her head in the direction Holly had gone. “You don’t need to waste your time talking to me. You’ve already got someone who can give you what you want tonight.”

He frowned. “So you think it’s like that? Women are interchangeable.”

She smirked. “Aren’t they?”

The blow stung. Mainly because it was mostly right. Until now. For the first time in longer than he could remember it wasn’t about getting laid in general. This was very, very specific. And he had no idea what to do with that.

“I don’t want Holly or any of the rest of them. I want you.”

“And if I say no?”

“I go home alone.”

She scoffed. “Sure you do.”

He stared at her for a few long seconds, feeling the distrust roll off her. She truly thought that the minute she walked out, he’d bed Holly or some other random chick. He had no idea how to prove otherwise because she certainly wasn’t letting him go home with her. And it’s not like he could lie and say he was looking for a relationship and maybe they should give it a try. He slept with a lot of women but never under false pretenses. He couldn’t give her what she needed.

At least not in that way.

But …

“Give me your phone,” he said, holding out his hand.

“What? Why?”

“Can you trust me just a little?”

She pressed her lips together and he waited for the no, but finally she dipped her hand into her purse and slapped the phone into his palm.

He smiled and took it over to the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh. I’m working here.” His thumbs moved over the on-screen keyboard.

“Pike.”

After a few minutes of typing and clicking, he stood and handed the phone back to her.

“What did you do?”

“Just added a few of our songs to your playlist. At least I can go home with you that way.” He leaned close to her ear. “Have a good night, Oakley.”

He kissed her cheek and walked away.

“So we’re done here?” she called to his back, confusion in her voice.

He smiled and waved.

Oh, we’re so not done here.

Oakley hated that she was listening to the music Pike had added to her phone. What was she? Twelve? A mixtape should not get her going like this. But lying on the couch in the dark with her headphones on, hearing the songs he’d chosen drift through her ears, had this intimacy to it, like a private conversation.

He’d chosen a mix of songs, some from his band, most from other artists. All had a dark, sexy edge to them. Visceral beats. Nothing romantic. If dirty, sweaty sex could be put into music, this was the soundtrack. And her body hadn’t missed the memo. With every heavy, pulsing beat, her blood pumped and her skin tingled.

Reagan had gone to sleep over at Devon’s place after the concert, so Oakley had the house to herself. It’d be easy to take advantage of the solitude. So simple to call Pike. But she hadn’t been lying to him backstage. She couldn’t let herself get involved with someone like him. Plus, Pike was probably wrapped up in the model-thin legs of that redheaded chick by now. Oakley’s stomach twisted, but she tried to ignore the kick of jealousy. The fact that she was feeling that emotion at all proved why she needed to keep her distance with Pike. She was already getting attached.