His probing stare trails me as I grab my amenities bag from my bathroom and start to load it into my suitcase.
“You didn’t say anything,” he whispers softly.
“No, I didn’t.” I pause with a T-shirt in hand, “I was having a hard enough time with,” I gesture between us, “you know.”
“Who’s skirting now?” He dives in—relentless in his pursuit of the truth—as I roll up the T-shirt for the second time and shove it into my suitcase.
“I didn’t think it was that important.”
“No, don’t backtrack. You didn’t want to highlight how much we had in common.”
“Easton,” I sigh, “make no mistake. I am happy to see you. I do want to hang out with you and watch you play, but we can’t go further than that. After this weekend—”
“You won’t even answer my fucking phone calls,” he quips coldly. “So, it’s pretty safe to assume I’m wasting my time with that.”
I nod solemnly.
“Like I said,” he sighs, “we can argue about this later.”
I cross my arms. “All that means is that you’re not hearing me.”
“What makes you so fucking sure I’m here for that anyway? We only hooked up once.” He shrugs. “You’re being mighty presumptuous.”
“I…oh,” my neck heats as I drop my gaze to my overpacked suitcase. A low chuckle rumbles from where he stands, and I glare at him while he runs his teeth along his upper lip.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
“Yep, but don’t worry. I’m not in the business of forcing my will on women who won’t even bother to pick up the phone for me.”
“I wanted to answer,” I say. “I really did.”
“I saw, but you didn’t.”
I wrangle more clothes into my suitcase as he pipes up, mirth in his tone. “We’re only going for two days. You do know that, right?”
“I like options. So, how do you like the band?”
He grins, seeming thoroughly amused by my abrupt change of subject, but he allows it.
“All of them have some years on me, but I don’t consider it a bad thing. Every one of them is crazy talented.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Yeah. So far, the gamble’s paid off. They play my originals just like I laid it out, but if it all works out and we decide to move forward, we’re going to collaborate on the next album, and I’m really hoping it works out. It’s definitely an eclectic mix.”
“Uh oh, you want to give me the rundown so I know what I’m in for?”
“Nah, you can handle them and get their stories when you meet them.”
“Do you like them?”
“So far. We were practically fucking strangers when we hit the road a month ago, but that’s the whole point of doing the van thing, to remedy that and see if we vibe. We’re basically living in the fucking thing, stuck together for endless hours on the road. It’s been…” he widens his eyes with a chuckle, “something.”
“Already collecting war stories, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“I’m sure.” Even I hear the hint of jealousy in my tone and berate myself for it.
Ewww, Natalie.
Still, it’s hard to imagine he’s immune to the staggering amount of female attention he’s getting. He probably has hourly opportunities to get his needs met, and damn if that doesn’t sting. The memory of the feel of him inside me that day at his studio hits me like a tidal wave as I look over at him.
I swear I catch a hint of a smile on his face before he turns and stalks back over to the digital photo frame just as an old picture of my dad and me appears. I’m in my softball uniform, holding my glove awkwardly. Dad’s kneeling behind me, surrounding me in his large build as we flash twin smiles for the camera.
“I’d just made catch of the year,” I tell Easton as he holds his finger on the photo to keep it from changing.
“You were that good?”
“Just the opposite, I was terrible,” I laugh as I pull out a drawer. “Outside of riding horses, I don’t have an athletic bone in my body. See how big that glove is?”
“Yeah, it’s huge.”
“I’d forgotten mine that day and had to use my coach’s. I think that’s the only reason I made that catch. Dad was in the stands as the ball was popped right to me. I just stuck my glove out to shield myself and miraculously caught it. Stunned, I just stared at it in my hand as Dad screamed at me from the stands to throw it to second. When I did, it earned us a double play, and we won the game.” I giggle at the memory. “That was my first and last season. I quit when I was on top. Played soccer for a few seasons though, Dad coached. Turns out I was just good at running, and he liked it because I had a lot of energy and would pass out on the way home. So, basically, he wanted to be seen as a doting father but was just a bad parent.”