Page 19 of Glory Hole

I slide in to the back seat of the shiny, black town car as Beck holds open the door. I’m so damn nervous, I don’t know what to do with myself. Really damn nervous. My clammy palms smooth down the fabric of my red dress. I love this dress. It’s one of my favorites. I usually feel confident, dare I say sexy when I wear it, but tonight, it doesn’t work its usual magic on my ego. I haven’t been on a date in a very long time. I’m not even sure how to act or what to talk about. Not to mention that I have never been on a date with someone as attractive as Beck. He’s all confidence and swagger. I’m all nerves and sweaty palms. My God. Did I remember to wear deodorant? I turn my head to side like I’m looking out the window and take a little test sniff of my pit. Deodorant…check.

When I opened my apartment door and saw him, it took all my will power to walk out instead of dragging him inside and having my way with him. His dark hair is styled back from his face. The few days of perfectly trimmed stubble on his angular jaw makes him look dark and intense. The black button up shirt he’s wearing looks to have been made for him. It hugs every defined muscle of his upper body. Black dress pants hug his fantastic ass. I made sure to pause while locking the door to my apartment so I could look at that tight hiney as he turned to walk to the elevator. Damn, it’s a nice one.

“You look beautiful tonight.” I turn to Beck as his hand slides into mine. He lifts my hand to his lips and places a kiss to the back of it. My nerves settle a bit when his handsome smile makes an appearance. He looks so good tonight.

“Thank you. You clean up well, Mr. Jameson.”

He leans toward me and places a lingering soft kiss to my lips. I sigh into it. He truly is so sweet. He pulls back, and his free hand comes up to caress my cheek.

“So beautiful.” His attention makes me feel shy and horny. Yeah, definitely horny.

“Where are we headed?” I really don’t care where we go. I would be happy going to a landfill with him.

“I made us a reservation at Angelica’s Etoile.”

“That sounds good. I’ve never been there.” I’ve never been there because it’s exclusive and expensive as hell. Reservations don’t happen unless you are someone, know someone who is someone, or just so rich and powerful that the restaurant wants the attention of having someone famous dine there. Sometimes I forget that Beck is a rock star. He’s just so down to earth. Plus, I have yet to see that side of him. Of course, he has the means to pull off a last-minute reservation.

“Sir, I think we have a complication.”

Beck and I look toward the driver and out the front windshield. Holy shit. Paparazzi swarm outside the entrance of the restaurant.

“How the hell did they know I was coming?”

If I was nervous before, now I am terrified. Holy shit that’s a lot of cameras. We pull up to the front of the restaurant, and the flashes of the cameras light up the growing darkness of the night.

Beck squeezes my hand. “Glory, I need you to look at me.”

I turn from the blinding lights and meet his eyes. His face just moments ago was filled with happiness. Now, the crease between his low drawn brows and the set of his jaw has replaced his smile. I can tell he’s pissed and worried. Just for the record, a pissed off Beckett Jameson is sexy as hell.

“I don’t know how they figured out where I would be tonight, but we can leave. We can go somewhere else. I can take you back home, if that’s what you want.”

At his last statement, I see the furrow deepen between his brows. He’s pissed his plans for our evening have been ruined. Well, fuck you fate. That bitch has cock-blocked me at every turn. I will not let shit ruin this date, and at the end of the night, I’m riding Beck into the sunset.

“I’m famished. Let’s get in there and eat.”

His answering smile is brighter to me than any flash bulb.

“You hold my hand. You don’t let go. They’ll bombard you with questions. Just keep your head down and stay behind me. Okay, babe?” He squeezes my hand, and I nod my agreement.

“Patrick, I’ll take it from here. I’ll call you when we are ready to be picked up.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be waiting just down the street.”

Beck turns to me. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Here we go. Remember, do not let go of my hand.”

He smiles before he turns, pushes the car door open, and steps out. My hand is still in his as I slide across the seat and exit the car.

It is fucking chaos. I can’t see shit. The cameras fire in rapid succession, and I recall Beck told me to keep my head down, so I do. Beck’s grip tightens on my hand as he pulls me through the throng of photographers and people who have gathered to see what is going on. The photographers hurl question after question in rapid succession at Beck. They shout them out over top of one another.

"Is this your new girlfriend?”

“Are you in love?”

“How will Tricia handle this news?”

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