for much. I don’t need a lot of fancy crap. You haven’t been out on your own yet, and your mother has used that to scare the shit out of you. Make you think you couldn’t do it; wouldn’t survive.” He chuckles and his eyes turn almost a pure blue color. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”
“But, I’ve never saved or paid any attention to money.” I sigh, looking away with a shrug. “I buy what I want, and the bills go to my mom’s accountant.”
“Like I said, get a job.” He smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Any job. Save your money for when you finally tell your mom you don’t need her money. Build up a nest egg. It won’t be much.” He nudges my arm with a smirk. “Hell, it will probably be about what you spent on that jacket. But, it will be yours.” He lays his hand on my arm, his smile is reassuring and comforting. “Your mom doesn’t need to know. Go to a bank and open a savings account and have your checks direct deposited. That way you never see the money. No reason you can’t work part time somewhere while you go to school. I did it, and I had excellent grades.”
“You did?” My eyes widen. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he went to school. On the outside he’s this hot biker, musician guy, but then he opens his mouth and I see so much more. I look away, sighing. Damn it, I’m fucked.
“Four point GPA.” He straightens his back and smiles proudly. “I played at bars while I went to school.” Lifting his chin, he says, “You should check out the local studios here. Start learning your craft. It won’t be anything big, probably answer the phone, and fetch coffee but you would be surprised what you pick up being around other producers and musicians. And, you make connections. You get to know people who do what you want to do. You can ask them questions. Learn about the work. And, when you graduate, you know someone in the business.” He leans in squeezing my hand. “You should do it.”
“I don’t even have a resume.”
“Darlin’, isn’t that what the internet is for? All that information at your fingertips on how to put together a resume.” He laughs giving me an “oh, poor baby” face.
I throw my napkin at him. The waitress brings our platters and I dig in. I am so hungry. There’s a bit of everything. Sausages, brisket, ribs, potato salad, and coleslaw. And the bread…oh my God, the bread melts in your mouth. My eyes float to the ceiling as I hold it in my mouth, soft chewy dough, buttery sweet, the flavor bursts on my tongue. So good. As I come up for air, I realize he’s staring at me again. You would think I would get used to this, but I haven’t. “What?” I sneer at him waiting.
“I’m afraid to say anything. You’re enraptured, darlin’.” He smiles, shaking his head. “You do love good food. I’m simply sittin’ here enjoying the show.”
“I’m so happy I amuse you,” I say, careful to levy sarcasm in every word.
“I wouldn’t say it amuses me.” His sensuous lips curve into a lustful, mater-of-fact smirk. “More like it makes me want to fuck your brains out. Direct some of that joy over here. Calories begging to be burned off and sitting here thinking of ways to do it. That look on your face when you taste something new and fall in love with it? It’s sexy. Looks a little like the face you make when I bite your nipple.”
Shit, my panties have officially melted. His bemused eyes watch me squirm. The blush runs up my neck in seconds. “O-kay. Are you always thinking about sex?” Damn it, I didn’t mean to sound that defensive.
“Darlin, you ooze sex. I hate to break it to you, but it’s hard to look at you and not want to fuck you.” His eyes burn and lock with mine as he speaks each word, weighting each one with need. “Sex on a stick, pure unadulterated sex on a stick.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re smart, funny, and sweet. You like to fuck and you are not afraid to try new things. Do you know how sexy that is? And, your voice is incredibly sultry. It has a real husky quality to it,” his lips curve into a lecherous grin, “especially when you are getting ready