Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,17
behind her ears with her fingers. “No, but Calvin does, and he likes to talk.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She laughed, a sparkle forming in her eyes, and the wall I had built in front of her was chipping away. She had a glow to her, and I found myself rotating in my chair so my thigh was touching her knee. She didn’t move. In fact, she leaned into me, and I liked it.
“Okay, I’ll admit it, I can’t resist a good magazine. I’m more into it for the fashion columns, not the gossip and relationships.”
“Makeup tutorials?”
She smiled, her pearly white teeth spectacular against her ruby lipstick. “Those, too.”
“Read any about my eyeliner?”
Her eyes found the ceiling.”Yes. I may have read about your brand of guy liner. Which, Calvin loves. I haven’t had the pleasure of trying it.”
I smirked. “So the truth just keeps coming out.”
“You’ve got me pinned, Jet.”
I cocked my head. Pinned? Curious choice of words. “Do I?”
“Pegged,” She corrected. A beautiful shade a pink graced her cheeks, as if she realized what she had said could have multiple meanings. “I meant to say pegged, not pinned.”
“I could do that, too. I mean, if you’re looking for a rebound,” I flirted, unable to help myself. I was in the mood to get laid, and the real Regan was very appealing. The attraction was obvious, but once she opened up to me, I couldn’t stop my mind from reeling out scenarios.
Most of them with her clothes off.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she sighed, but I wasn’t convinced.
“Why not?” I goaded.
“I’m not really into one night stands,” she admitted.
I shrugged. “Okay.” I wouldn’t push her into something she didn’t do.
“Well, wait,” she stuttered, confusion written on her face.
I took a sip of my beer, then brought my attention back to her.
“So, that’s it?” She said in disbelief.
“What?”
“You’re not going to try harder to get into bed with me?”
My jaw went tense. “No, why would I? You said no, so that means no.”
“Oh.”
I held in my smirk. “Are you disappointed?”
Her nose wiggled and crinkled in an adorable way. “Why would I be disappointed?”
“Why would you assume I’d try to coerce you into sleeping with me?”
“Well,” she paused and chewed on her lip.
“You read that I was a ladies man, didn’t you?” I laughed.
“Guilty,” she sighed. “I must look like a terrible person.”
“Nah,” I breathed, “I’m just glad you’re being honest with me this time around.”
“Let me start over,” she said, holding out her petite hand. “I’m Regan, also known as Raina Skye.”
“It’s nice to officially meet,” I grinned, taking her hand in mine. Her lids fluttered closed when we touched, and my groin ached.
I wanted to land this girl, in more ways than one.
Clearing her throat, she let go of my hand and reached for her drink. “So what about Jet Ryder? What truth can he tell me about himself?”
I held my hands in the air. “Not much to tell, especially if you’re a tabloid reader. They seem to have new stories about me all of the time.”
“Yes, but are they true?”
“I’d say about ninety percent of the time, they’re ten percent right.”
We both laughed, and my body relaxed. She made me feel comfortable now that she was breaking out of her shell. That was a feeling I wasn’t accustomed to.
“So tell me about the ten percent,” she smiled, her knee still resting against my thigh.
“Let’s see, I’m from the East coast, have a house in Maryland.”
“Baltimore? I’ve never been. I’m excited to check it out on my new tour.”
“Actually, it’s by Snow Hill. On the Atlantic ocean side. Hopefully you’ll be able to go explore some.”
She nodded, her smile bright. “I haven’t traveled much. Seems the most appealing part of touring is seeing all of the new places.”
“I hope you get to do that.” I didn’t want to crush her by saying she was going to be so exhausted by how fast the tour moves, and that half of the time you don’t even know where you wake up and what crowd you’re playing in front of.
“So, your house by Snow Hill. Does your family live there, too?”
I shook my head. “No, they live in Chicago now.”
“Do you see them?”
“I try to get out there a few times a year.”
“Is it just your parents?”
“No.”
“You don’t like to talk about your family, do you?”
My jaw tightened. They were a sensitive subject.
“I could always go straight to the most popular question,” she sighed.
“And what would that be?”
“Was it pain