Page 11 of Kiss Me

“I’m used to it,” she finally replied bitterly.

“But not anymore?” I asked each word slowly, feeling like I was moving into dangerous territory.

Gabi huffed and may have rolled her eyes. It was too hard to see in the dimly lit room. “As least for the foreseeable future.” Leaning her head back against the cushion she muttered, “I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“Did you get fired? Who the hell would fire you right after Christmas?” I asked outraged. Only a total asshole would do that. Didn’t most people realize that the holidays were some of the happiest, but also the saddest, in people’s lives?

Tilting her head, she smiled at me. “You’re too sweet getting upset on my behalf. To answer your question, no, I wasn’t fired.” She let out a puff of air as she rolled her head back and forth on the cushion. “You really have no clue who I am?”

It was my turn to tilt my head as I took Gabi in. Her fingers flitted over her clothes and hair. Was she nervous? Did I make her nervous? I was sure that if I knew Gabi, I would recognize her. She was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. With her long brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, her big doe eyes that endeared and hypnotized me at the same time. Then there were the tattoos that I’d seen last night that covered her body. There was no way I’d forget her face or amazing body.

“I’d remember you if you’d ever crossed my radar. Who are you Gabi?”

Fiddling with the end of the sweatshirt she was wearing, Gabi laughed without humor. “I feel like a dick asking if you know who I am. It was very presumptuous. I don’t expect everyone to know who I am. You didn’t even know who Luke was, and you live in the same town.”

Who the hell was Gabi?

Coughing, I said, “Maybe I should be embarrassed.”

“No, you definitely shouldn’t. What’s important or interesting for a woman is not the same for a man. I’ve learned that through the years.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never had a big interest in TV shows or movies, but if a celebrity was living in my town, you’d think I would have heard about it.”

Bobbing her head from side to side, Gabi studied me intently. “You said you got your scar two years ago, then your girlfriend broke up with you right?”

I nodded my head, unsure why she was rehashing what I had told her.

“I’m assuming that during that time you probably didn’t go out much and might have been a little depressed. Am I right?”

Slouching down in my chair, I answered, “I work out of my garage and didn’t get out much.” I chewed my lip, not wanting to admit how long I’d holed myself up in my house and garage but forced myself to tell her for some reason. “For probably around six months.”

Her eyes widened comically, but she quickly hid her shock. “I think that was around the time Luke moved here, and the hubbub of him being here happened, so it makes sense why you missed it.”

Leaning back in my chair, I ran my hand through my hair. “Thanks for letting me off the hook.”

“Anytime,” she smiled.

“Now why would I, or anyone else, recognize you? Are you an actress?” She had mentioned being on her friend’s show before.

“Up until a couple of days ago, I was in a band called Shadowed Alley. Then my asshole bandmates decided to break up the band and start a new one without me,” she answered bitterly.

I didn’t blame her; that was a dick move.

“Why would they do that?” Surely if they had talked to her, they could have come up with a compromise.

“They weren’t happy that they weren’t the center of attention, and they think that starting a new band, when none of them can sing worth a damn, is going to help them. I don’t know.” She shook her head, eyes blazing. “Maybe they want an all guy band. I was so pissed at the time, their excuses went in one ear and out the other.”

“I can see how you’d be the center of attention, with you being the singer and your beauty.”

She turned her head and her hair slid so that her face was hidden. “You never answered why you have all that mistletoe hanging around, and why you decorate for Christmas more than any man I’ve ever known. Have you been bringing unsuspecting women to your house to get them underneath your mistletoe?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t know how far off the mark she was. “Far from it,” I eventually choked out. It had been almost two years since a woman had stepped foot in my home.

“Then why?”

“Because it was my mother’s favorite holiday. She believed in love and had some crazy story that if you kissed someone underneath the mistletoe at midnight on New Year’s Eve, then that person was your destiny.” I was hoping that Gabi wouldn’t ask any more questions, because I wasn’t sure how much more I could answer. Even three years later, it was still too fresh to talk about.

“Do you believe in all that destiny stuff?” she asked in a sweet tone that I couldn’t deny.

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