Page 16 of Seen
Luke’s gaze dips to the newest member of his small household. I’m like a cat, bringing mice home and dropping them at his owner’s feet. The thought makes me smile.
“It’s fine.” His fingers examine the sad-looking leaves. “Peace lilies appear fragile. But they always bounce back. They’re survivors.”
CHAPTER 8
LUKE
Despite Alaric’s wheedling, I don’t go back to Earth until Ezra and Isaac return from their holiday. Neil doesn’t text or phone me, and I try not to be disappointed. I don’t need that level of aggro in my life. And anyhow, there’s no room on my kitchen windowsill for another peace lily. The two I own are thriving, all glossy-leaved and straight-stemmed.
Not hearing from Neil is a good sign, right? Perhaps he hasn’t texted because he doesn’t need any support or, even better, he’s getting it from someone more robust, more proficient at delivering it. Ezra, for example. They’re old friends—old lovers, even—and he’s one of the most capable people I know. And he cares deeply about Neil.
Isaac finally persuades me to venture out. We don’t see each other at work anymore, and he’s keen to catch up. I slip inside Earth early doors, before the Friday crowds ramp up and the live band starts. Not yet spotting Isaac, I sidle up to the bar, where Jess serves me a beer.
“On the house,” a smoky voice orders from somewhere over my shoulder. “Hi,” Neil adds, “Where have you been hiding?”
At home,avoiding situations exactly like this.
Neil’s standing close. As his woodsy scent envelops me, my pulse picks up. Trying to act natural, I become immediately hyperaware of my every movement.Is this how people normally lean against a bar?I also seem to have temporarily forgotten how words work because… that teasing, lopsided smile and that raspy voice? Tonight, Neil the performer is in charge, in full-on, sexy, wannabe-rockstar mode, and I’m absolutely not ready to be the focus of his attention, even if he’s only being a good host.
“Oh, nowhere.” I try not to inhale. Not only does he look like a fucking dream, he smells like one, too. “How are you?”
“I’m doing okay.” Neil’s gaze drifts across to Jess and Ezra, both busy serving. Though the killer smile is still in place, it’s not totally convincing.
“Good. It’s unnecessary, but thank you for the drink.”
“No worries. Listen.” Again, his eyes flick over to Ezra, and then he leans across, dropping his voice. His hand lands on my shoulder, burning like sunlight through glass. “Can you do me a small favour?” He chews his plump bottom lip. “Tonight’s band have cancelled at the last minute, so I’m going to fill in with Ez on guitar. Nothing big, only an hour or so of some covers, but I was wondering if you could just…” He sucks in a sharp breath. “Would you be able to stand farther along the bar a bit, so that you’re directly opposite the centre of the stage? Just to give me…uh…a point of focus if I get carried away.” He follows up with a casual laugh. “Ez will give me the sack if I fall off again.”
He’s good, I’ll give him that, but even his throaty laugh and the sexy-as-anything grin that follows don’t hide the little wobble between the words.
“Of course.” I pretend it’s an entirely normal request, though inside all manner of bells and whistles are blaring. He’s asking for my help—me, not Ez. So I’d better not fuck it up. “That’s well within my repertoire,” I assure him. “Just don’t expect meto dance along. It will totally put you off, you’ll even forget what song you’re playing, never mind the words.”
“You don’t dance?”
I shudder. “No way. Not in public.”
Neil leans even farther forward, glossy brown tendrils of hair falling across his face. His tongue licks across his lower lip. “Suggesting you dance in private.”
I blink, caught off guard, acutely aware of the blush painting my entire face and neck scarlet.
“Well?” His caramel and chestnut eyes flick down to my mouth. “Do you?”
My stomach flips. Oh God, he’s waiting for a clever, flirty response. Alaric would have a hundred or more. “Only in front of the peace lilies,” I blurt. “Go and do your set.”
Isaac joins me after the first couple of numbers, eyes glued to Ezra’s the whole way through. They are so going to have great sex later; I can practically smell the pheromones wafting down from the stage. Deliberately, I don’t stare at Neil. In fact, I endeavour to look anywhere else Every time I do glance his way, the full weight of that brown gaze, threaded with molten honey, bores into mine. No matter where he is in on the stage. It’s keeping him centred and me a little dizzy.
“Neil seems more like himself, tonight,” Isaac shouts over the music and general din. “Perhaps he just needed those couple of sharp shocks to cut down on the heavy drinking a little.”
“Maybe.”
Up on stage, the man in question gyrates to a slower number as if the music’s hardwired into his bones. And, thanks to the eye thing, as if he’s singing straight to my heart, serenading me. I can’t believe Isaac hasn’t noticed. Half-unbuttoned, Neil’s white shirt clings to him with sweat, the sleeves loosely rolled to hiselbows as if he knows how much I like them that way. He still patrols the stage like a caged panther, but well away from the drop on either side. Even I’m relaxing a touch, as long as I don’t gaze directly up at him.
“He did a great job managing whilst Ez was away,” Isaac shouts. “Ez originally had reservations taking him on as a business partner, but he seems to have calmed down. Maybe landing on his head banged some sense into him! Catch this: after this set, he’s told Ez he’s taking the rest of the night off and going back upstairs. When did that ever happen?”
“Maybe he’s got someone waiting for him up there.”
“Probably two or three.” Isaac rolls his eyes. “Knowing Neil.”
I take a swig of beer, a little out of sorts, which is ridiculous. Neil and I aren’t friends or anything; he’s not interested in me in that way.
