Page 56 of Feuds and Interludes
Telling Shane my worries, showing him my tender underbelly, was a terrifying prospect. How could someone like him—someone whohadn’tcurled up in a ball and wailed about his band quitting, when I would have at the very least gone on an epic bender and probably ended up in a diabetic coma—want to hear my petty bullshit? How could I even consider leaning on him when he had such bigger issues to deal with?
I knew already, after this short courtship, that I couldn’t bear to see disappointment in his gaze. I wouldn’t impose. I’d just have to get over my Gran issues myself and be worthy of his attention. I’d spent my whole life trying not to be an imposition on anyone. I’d done my best since becoming an orphan. If I was good enough, people would love me. It was as simple as that. I didn’t want their pity, I wanted their respect, and I planned to work harder than ever to earn it from Shane.
A few minutes later, Shane made the turn onto SE 13thAvenue in the Sellwood District and looked for parking near Gino’s. I hadn’t spent a whole lot of time in Portland proper, and I was glad he was driving. And parking. He even made parking sexy.
“Man, how’d you get so good at parallel parking? I couldn’t park a golf cart in these spots, much less this big van.”
He grinned. “What did you call it? The van life? I got used to parking that thing. Anywhere you go in LA, you’re likely to have to parallel park, right?”
So capable. “Yeah, well, I’m that brat who will hire a driver or book a Lyft if the place I’m going doesn’t have valet parking. It makes me anxious.” I bit the inside of my cheek. Why did I have to open my mouth? I should just sit and look pretty tonight before Shane really figured out what he’d gotten himself into with me.
“Makes sense. There’s enough angst trying to drive in LA, much less worrying about parking. If it stresses you out, you should let someone else drive. I love driving. Traffic and that stuff doesn’t bother me. I’m happy to be your personal Lyft anytime.” He turned and winked at me as he put the van in park. “We’re here, Monsieur Collins.” He leaned over and presented his gorgeous lips for a kiss, but my dumb ass hesitated.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for me once more. “What’s wrong, Boone?”
The way his face got all soft when he looked at me was too much. It was so much easier when he was the Metal Menace. This sweet side to Shane Butler had me unsteady, and I knew I needed to get it together before we went inside.
“Nothing. Thank you for driving.” I reached for the door, but he put a hand on my arm.
“Boone, talk to me.”
“I’m just—” My phone beeped and I checked my glucose monitor. “Wow, a little low. Let’s get inside. The sooner I get some food in me, the more human I’ll be. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Wait for me. I don’t want you to fall.”
He hopped out his door and walked around to open my door, which was probably a good thing since my legs felt like jelly.
“Thanks,” I said, pushing up on my toes to kiss his cheek.
That warm smile was back, and he stared at me for a moment before he put his hand at my lower back and gave me a little caress.
“My pleasure. And hey, I’ll follow your lead with the grandparents, okay? Whatever you want to do. I know this is a big deal for you. John hasn’t been gone that long. It’s probably weird seeing her with someone else, even if it’s Pops.”
My breath caught and my eyes burned. He knew exactly what to say. God, this was too good to be true. I blinked back the fucking tears and chinned and chested the fuck up. I didn’t dare speak though. I didn’t trust my voice.
We went inside and Shane stood beside me as he let the hostess know we had a reservation. When she went to check on our table, he slid his hand along the waistband of my pants. He leaned close to my ear and spoke in that low voice that made me break out in goose bumps.
“Goddamn, Collins. These pants are fucking glorious on you. I’ve never seen a man wear pants as well as you do.”
Heat rushed to my face and neck, and I avoided turning to look at him for fear I’d combust.
“Keep that up and you’ll see menotwearing them later.”
I reached behind my back and squeezed his hand as the hostess returned.
“Your party has already arrived. Follow me.”
We strolled through the crowded restaurant and more than a few people did double takes as we passed them. A few even whipped out phones and took pics of us together.
“The interwebs are going to implode,” Shane muttered, “in three…two…one.”
I turned to laugh at what he said, and then saw some very excited fans holding back their squeals as they tapped furiously on their phones.
“You didn’t happen to mention to your new manager today that she may be fielding a bazillion calls for comment tonight, did you?”
“Didyoucall Dickie?”
I laughed loudly, throwing my head back. “Should we give them a show?”
