I frowned. “Not a chance. I’m kicking your butt because I’m better than you.”
He laughed, head thrown back exposing his throat again. A throat I’d nibbled on and suckled and ran my tongue across. Then I bit my tongue and jerked my head to the screen and buckled down.
Ream was good … no, he was great at off-roading, but I did grow up with an older brother and I omitted a little truth. Fantasy games were my favorite, but I excelled at car racing. Purposely losing the last game with Kite had been fun, beating Ream was better.
“The new love of my life,” Crisis exclaimed as I tore through the finish line ahead of Ream by a fraction.
“Again,” Ream nudged me with his shoulder, and I tried to control my giddiness. I expected him to be mad that he lost, but instead Ream was all playful and sweet, and I was melting.
We played for another hour and Ream beat me twice and I kicked Crisis’ butt, which had him changing up the game to boxing.
“I’m out, boys.” I passed my controller to Kite then got up and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat before I went back to painting. I never heard Ream follow me, but when I shut the pantry door he was right behind me.
“We’re going for lunch.” Ream took my hand before I could object and started walking to the door. He snagged keys from the hook on the wall. “Later, boys,” he called out.
“Ream.” He pulled me out on the porch. “Ream. Seriously, I’m dating someone else.”
“So. We’re friends going to grab food.” He stopped at his car and held open the passenger door. “In.” His brows rose at my hesitation. “I’m beginning to think you argue with me on purpose because it turns you on.”
I opened my mouth to argue then slammed it shut. Then I got in and watched his sweet ass stride around the front of the car and slide in next to me.
He took me to a cute little pub in King Township. Emily and I had been numerous times since it had a live band on Friday and Saturday nights and was close to the farm when we didn’t want to travel to the city. The pub also had food I could eat with my new diet so I ordered a cob salad and chicken sandwich toasted on rye.
I snagged a fry from Ream’s plate, and he reached across and dug his fork into a baby carrot. When he bit into it, I imagined him biting me. Gah … this was a bad idea. We’d never be able to just be friends.
We talked about Logan and Emily, the band, the tour and what it was like, and plans for the new album. He asked about Clifford and my upcoming art show at the gallery. I expected Ream to push about our relationship, but he didn’t touch the subject and it felt like … like we used to be. He was completely relaxed, even the usual intensity in his dark eyes was calm.
“So do you love it? The touring?” We’d talked about the concerts and how it was wild and crazy with a ton of people constantly around.
Ream stretched his legs out under the table and his calf rubbed up against mine sending goose bumps across my skin. “You cold?”
I cleared my throat and crossed my arms trying to hide the effect he had on me. There was a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes. I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee.
“I do. But I prefer it here. Quieter.” He was watching me … eyes lazy as he continued. “And there is something here I want.”
That threw me completely off balance, and my coffee spilled on the table as I set it down too hard.
He shrugged. “But touring is a good time, too much drinking, too little sleep, and yes too many chicks. Although, Crisis would never admit to that.”
It felt as if a lead weight crushed into my chest. So he had been with other women. Well, not that he wouldn’t; there was no reason why he wouldn’t. We weren’t together then or now. Shit, we’d never been a couple. So why was I so upset about the thought of him being with another woman? Or more than likely women. Was that where he’d gone when Emily said he disappeared? To have sex with some chick?
He nudged my leg and I looked up at him. “What’s up?”
My fake smile was good—I mean I could get it past Matt and Emily without being detected as a lie—but my smile faltered when he scowled back at me. “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie. You’re thinking about something and it isn’t good.” He reached across the table and linked his fingers with mine. It passed the boundary of friendship, but I didn’t pull away because I liked it—a lot. His thumb stroked back and forth, and it was intimate. Too intimate. I thought of Lance and quickly yanked back. What was I doing? Christ, I know Lance and I were just dating, but holding hands was past the friendship rule. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to embarrass you?”
I balked. “What?” There was no chance I’d tell him that I was upset he’d been with other women.
“Embarrassment it is.”
I grabbed his hand but he easily slipped away and then slid out from the table. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t to go talk to the bartender. After a short conversation he walked over to where the band had set up for tonight’s performance. I should’ve snuck out right then, but I didn’t embarrass easily and I was curious.
Ream slung the acoustic guitar over his shoulder and sat on the stool. When the music started I felt the heat rise in my body because his voice had a dynamic rippling effect on me that grabbed hold of my insides. There was no microphone, no electric guitar, no background music, just his magnetic voice and the strum of his fingers across the strings of the guitar.