Page 183 of Powerhouse: Boxed Set
I pulled my hand from his and held it up. “Stop. You know that’s bullshit as much as I do. Mom will never let anyone lay a hand on me. Not unless she picks him for me.”
He wrenched my hand back down and squeezed it all over again. “She’ll never let anyoneyouthink’s good enough lay a hand on you. Your taste is bad.”
“My taste doesn’t fit their criteria ofacceptable.”
“Just as well, or their criteria of acceptable would be acceptably fucked up.”
I let out a sigh and leaned against him, loving the way his arms wrapped me up, even though he thought I was an idiot today. He was the only one who would do it, give me his genuine warmth and not the fake kisses and smiles people all around me gave.
I tried to steer the conversation back to him and not me.
“Are you seeing this Blue Hawk guy again, then?”
“Next Saturday. He’s playing a gig at Cyrus Bar, an intimate little show. Looks great.” He paused. “You could come if you wanted.”
“Where’s Cyrus Bar?”
“NYC. Meatpacking District. About as far as you could get from Bishop’s Landing.”
It sure sounded a world away from Bishop’s Landing. Bishop’s Landing looked down its nose at anyone without a billion dollars in their pocket.
Yeah. I liked the sound of Cyrus Bar in the Meatpacking District.
I pulled up my calendar on my phone. I had some crappy charity affair on Saturday night, but I could ditch it. Fuck it, Iwouldditch it. I wanted to check out this Blue Hawk guy for myself. Tristan was the only friend I had in the world; I wanted to make sure this guy wasn’t toying with him.
“You coming?” Tristan pushed. “I’ll need to get you on the guest list. It’s sold out.”
“Yeah, I’m coming. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet a hot rocker guy for myself.”
“Give him the benefit of the doubt.” Vulnerability lit Tristan’s eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He nudged me with an elbow. “I know how you get about me. Protective,” he teased.
“You love it.”
“I loveyou, Lainey.”
“I know.”
He leaned close, peering into my eyes. “I mean it.”
“Iknow.” I pushed him back, but when Tristan righted himself, his face was serious.
His next words were a whisper. A whisper with a chill. “Promise me one thing. Swear on your heart you won’t ever fall for Lucian Morelli.”
“I won’t,” I told him.
“So promise me.”
I looked into his eyes and summoned up the fire inside. Because I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t ever fall for Lucian Morelli. “Swear on my heart and hope to die,” I told him.
That appeased him. He was smiling as he hooked my pinky finger in his.
CHAPTER SIX
Lucian
