I feel the same way I do before I step on stage— nervous and excited.
I haven't felt like that around a woman since I was a teenager.
Piper is a teenager. Nineteen but that's still firmly teenager. I remind myself that this can't happen, but that doesn't do shit to wipe away the excitement in my chest.
Chapter 6
Kit
Piper unlocks the door and opens it for me.
Her cheeks flush. "I don't mean to say you're my date or I'm wearing the pants or something. Just, uh... I know this little place in Garden Grove. That sound good?"
"Sure." I slide into my seat, unable to do anything but smile. She's extra nervous. It's cute. Really fucking cute.
She slides into her seat and turns the car on. The stereo blares with Gwen Stefani's latest CD.
Piper turns red.
I chuckle. "You're the only person who still uses CDs."
She points to the stereo's aux port. "The other stuff never works right. It's CDs or the radio and I hate commercials." She leans over the center console, over my legs, to grab a book of CDs from the passenger side floor. "I have a lot of other stuff if you don't like pop."
"What happened to Britney?"
"I'm never living that down, am I?"
I shake my head.
"I listen to a lot of stuff." She hands the booklet to me then reaches for the volume knob.
I stop her. "I'm good with Gwen."
She shoots me an incredulous look.
"She's an Orange County girl. That must speak to you."
Piper laughs. "True. She even has a song called Orange County Girl that mentions the 714 area code." She nods to the booklet. "There might be something else you'd like more."
I flip open the book. "If it will make you feel better, I'll look." It's an eclectic mix, everything from Elvis Costello to Rage Against the Machine to Britney Spears.
Piper taps her fingers against the steering wheel as she pulls out of the parking lot. Slowly, her concentration shifts to her driving. Then she's humming along with the song. Then singing.
I set the collection aside. I can't say I'm the biggest fan of Gwen Stefani's solo career, but I am a fan of this. Piper looks so fucking cute singing along with her CD.
She looks good blond.
Too good.
Like my hands should be tugging at her blond hair as I pin her to the wall and drive my cock deep inside her.
Fuck.
I've got better impulse control than this.
By the time we're sitting at a hole in the wall Vietnamese restaurant, I've managed to shift my thoughts from what Piper looks like coming to what thriller author I'll read next. Gillian Flynn is supposed to be good. With the speed I read, I'll need a new author in a few days, but that's a good thing. Gives me something to think about besides Piper.
She's leaning forward to pore over her menu. Her breasts are about to spill out of her tiny top.