Page 57 of His Surrender
“Yeah, you have to show me how it’s done,” Remi responded.
“Are you kiddin’? I done told you, my boy. You have jazz in your soul.”
“I learned everything I know from you.” Remi smiled.
Johnny and Mike approached the stage, as did two other men I didn’t know but recognized from past shows.
“That’s Freddie on bass,” Remi told me, once we’d sat at a table to the left of the stage. “Ace is on drums. His real name is Archie, but he’ll kill you if you call him that.” He laughed, and I wondered if he was remembering a time when he’d made that mistake. “Is something wrong?”
“Huh?” I straightened up in my chair. “Everything’s fine. Why?”
“You had a strange look on your face,” he answered, his pale eyes studying me. Did he see the truth? That I had enjoyed the sound of his laugh and had been fighting the urge to pull him against me and kiss him?
“It’s been a long week,” I said, hoping he accepted the answer and moved on. Because it was mostly true. That week had been brutal in court. So much so that Emery and I hadn’t talked to each other at all.
I hid how much that hurt too.
“We don’t have to stay long if you want to call it an early night.”
“No, I’m okay,” I said, before motioning to a passing waitress. “Can I get a beer?” I nodded to Remi. “And whatever he wants.”
“I’ll just have a water,” he answered.
“You got it,” she said and went over to Bianca at the bar.
“Want a cigar?” I asked Remi, standing from the plushy chair. There was a room at the back that had a wall of cigars to choose from.
“Please.”
I walked past him and released the breath I’d been holding. I felt jittery. Frazzled. Remi had taken all of my self-imposed rules and ripped them to shreds. I was torn between wanting to hightail it out of that bar to get as far away from him as possible and wanting to tug him onto my lap and kiss him for the world to see.
As a lawyer, it was my job to look at both sides of the case. I had to predict the arguments the defense would make, had to put myself in their shoes, so I could form a counterargument. Making decisions about Remi was the same way.
What were the pros and cons of getting closer to him emotionally?
I reached the room with the cigars and moved my gaze along the shelves. Thinking. A pro with Remi? Being around him made me smile more than I ever had. The sex was amazing. The con? Stripping down my walls and letting him see the real me, then having him take my trust—my heart—and crushing it in the palm of his hand.
Would he really do that?I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I was ready to take a gamble just yet.
After picking out two cigars, I paid for them and returned to the table. The waitress had already brought over my beer, and Remi sat sipping his water with his gaze fixed on the stage. The band had started their set, and Johnny played the sax as if he’d been born with it in his hand.
“Here you are, my good sir.” I handed him a cigar before taking the seat across from him.
“Good sir?” Remi’s brow shot up. “Are we in medieval days now?”
“God, I hope not. Although, I’d look great in knight’s armor.”
“You’d look great in anything,” Remi muttered before lighting the end of his cigar. My dick hardened at the sight of his lips wrapping around it as he took a puff.
“You sure I can’t buy you something else?” I asked, motioning to his water. “I know you said you don’t drink, but I didn’t know if it was just hard liquor or all of it.”
“All of it,” he answered, blowing out smoke. “I used to drink. A lot. I hated the person I was because of it. I made a lot of stupid mistakes back then.”
“You were an alcoholic?”
“No, Iaman alcoholic,” Remi clarified. “An addict is always an addict, Jay, no matter how many years of sobriety they have. I’m going on five years of not drinking. Each day is a challenge, but I’m proud of the progress I’ve made.”
“Congratulations,” I said, feeling warmth spread through my chest. Admitting such a thing wasn’t easy, and I was touched that he’d shared something so personal with me. Then, I looked at my beer. “Shit. I shouldn’t be drinking in front of you. I’m sorry.”
