Page 32 of Hard Rock Love
Cerise told me the woman who worked here was dating her brother Gael. She certainly didn’t look like a rock star’s girlfriend. Her hair was in a low bun at the back of her neck and she wore a simple blouse and jeans without a hint of lipgloss or mascara.
“I’m happy to help,” I told her. “My sister keeps on telling me I need to get out of the house more.”
Jessie laughed. “After hanging out with this bunch, you’ll probably need a few days alone to recover.”
“That bad, huh?” I asked.
“They’re great kids,” she reassured me, “but they don’t have any lack of energy, that’s for sure. I hope you can keep up.”
“Me, too,” I replied.
I was still wondering why Seth was standing there watching the two of us when Jessie answered my unspoken question.
“If you’re Everly’s little sister, you already know Seth,” she said with a nod to him. “He’s filling in for another volunteer who’s also going to be away for a few months.”
So his appearance wasn’t just a coincidental, one-time thing. Seth was going to be volunteering here, at the same time as me. We were going to be working together, for months.
I was both elated and flustered at the same time. I didn’t know how to act around him. That kiss had thrown our friendship for a loop.
I couldn’t stop remembering the feel of his lips, his hands squeezing my hips, the hitch of his breath as his tongue brushed against mine.
I squirmed uncomfortably as the heat from my face traveled down to center between my legs.
“I’m going to get some paperwork for you guys to fill out, and then I’ll start the tour,” Jessie said. “Be right back.”
Which left me and Seth alone.
I snuck a peek at him. He was still staring at me. I lifted a hand in a small wave.
“Hey,” I said, stilted. “Funny seeing you here.”
“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “Funny.” He cleared his throat. “You’re the one Cerise got to volunteer?”
“I ran into her at a photoshoot when I tagged along with my sister,” I explained. “She asked if I’d ever tutored.”
His eyebrows flew up, panicked.
“She doesn’t know,” I hurried to say. “She has no idea I’m tutoring you. She just knows I’m taking English as my major. That’s all.”
The panicked expression left his face, leaving him standing there awkwardly, his hands hanging at his sides.
We stared at each other, the silence growing uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry,” we both blurted out at the same time.
We stopped, waiting for the other to continue. I spoke first.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I shouldn’t have…” I lowered my voice to an embarrassed whisper. “…shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“And I’m sorry for reacting so badly,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just—” he cut himself off, looking pained.
“I’d been drinking and I was upset and I just acted without thinking,” I said.
“I know,” he said, casting his eyes to the floor. “You’d had that cooler, and you’re not used to alcohol. I knew you’d never do something like that normally and I didn’t want you to regret anything in the morning.”
I’d more than regretted it. I’d wished the whole thing had never happened.
“I guess I’m a cheap drunk,” I said. “I won’t do anything like that again, I promise.”
