She was seated on the grass, arms around herself, knees tucked under her chin. She looked up as his shadow fell over her, and she said glumly, “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me I told you so.”
He crouched down beside her. “Actually,” he drawled piously, “I was going to tell you that at least you didn’t faint.”
She made a face, knowing she had given him the ammunition he needed to keep her out of his parties.
“Do you think you can survive an introduction to him?”
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “You didn’t tell me your friend was Dylan Charbonneau.”
Angelo’s gaze narrowed at the way Lane spoke of Dylan. So she recognized him, he thought broodingly. He had thought Lane’s panic was because Dylan’s presence had taken her by surprise, but now he realized it was because she had recognized who the rockstar was.
The fact not sitting well with him at all, Angelo gracefully came to his feet, saying with deceptive kindness, “You don’t need to meet him if you don’t want to.”
Thinking that Angelo might use the situation as an excuse to keep her locked in her room again, she quickly shook her head. “No, actually, I think you’re right.” She scrambled to her feet, saying brightly, “If I really want to attend your parties, I should start practicing now. Right?”
Too late, Angelo realized that his plan had backfired and now there was no way he’d keep Lane from meeting Dylan. He said reluctantly, “If you’re sure—-”
Lane gave him a determined smile. “Positive.”
Fuck.
Angelo changed tactics, and lowering his voice, he said, “He’s known to be touchy-feely with women.”
Her brows furrowed. “But I thought he’s changed ever since he got back together with his fiancée?”
He stared at her incredulously. “Are you actually one of his fangirls?” His lip curled at the last word, and if she said yes, friend or no friend, he was kicking Charbonneau out of his home.
“Don’t say it like that,” she protested. “And stop glaring at me. I just really like his band’s music.”
Normally, Angelo found Lane’s pink cheeks adorable, but right now it was the last thing he wanted to see. “Stop that,” he hissed, completely losing his cool.
“Stop what?”
“Blushing,” he almost roared.
Oh. Lane’s eyes widened as the truth dawned on her. “Oh gosh. Are you feeling jea—-”
“Hold that thought,” he said curtly as he took her hands and brought them up to her cheeks. “Keep it there and stay here. I’ve changed my mind. You’re not going to talk to him.” He stalked away.
“But—-”
He stopped, turned to face her again, and pointed to the bushes. “Stay.”
“Stop treating me like a puppy.”
“Stay.”
He walked back to Dylan and announced unhesitatingly, “She’s still too shy to talk to you, I’m afraid.”
“Then...how come she’s waving hi at me?”
Angelo’s teeth gnashed when he realized it was true. When Dylan was about to wave back, he snapped, “You’re wrong. She’s not waving at you. She’s doing finger exercises for her therapy.”
The rockstar raised a brow. That was the lamest piece of bullshit he had ever heard, and he had a hard time accepting it came from Angelo Valencia, of all people.
He shook his head, saying, “March was right about you two.”
“Whatever it is,” Angelo advised, “keep it to yourself.”
“Unfortunately—-” Dylan grinned. “I’m extremely bad at taking advice.” He nodded towards the girl, saying under his breath, “I’ve never known you to be this crazy about a girl.”
Angelo remained silent.
“She must be very understanding if she doesn’t care about the parties.”
“It’s not like that between us,” he said finally. “We’re taking things a day at a time. That’s all.”
“I see.” Dylan eyed his friend curiously, wondering if Angelo knew just how unconvincing he sounded. A man who was simply taking things one day at a time shouldn’t care about another man waving hi at his woman. Did his friend know that?
Pretending he didn’t notice the contemplative way the rockstar was studying him, Angelo changed the subject, asking, “Will your band make it tonight?”
Dylan nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I came here for, actually. I wanted to see what kind of setup we’d have.”
Angelo nodded, knowing how meticulous Minuit Rouge was with their every performance. “I’ll accompany you to the basement.” He paused.
Dylan’s lips twitched. “Go on, say goodbye to your girl.”
Angelo decided not to dignify that with an answer.
Lane straightened when she saw Angelo heading her way. “Is something wrong?” she asked anxiously right away, noticing the frown marring his forehead.
“No, nothing. I just need to accompany Dylan to the basement.” He paused. “Will you be fine if I leave you with Fico and Umberto for a while?”
Oh. “I know you don’t believe me, and I know you have a reason not to because of what happened the first night, but I swear, fainting isn’t an everyday thing with me.”