Rock With Me(2)

By: Kristen Proby



I see something in Leo that disturbs me. Not in a creepy, what the hell is he thinking way, but because he’s so… virile. He pulls to me in a way no one ever has before. It has nothing to do with his band or his money, and everything to do with those gray eyes and sweet smile.

He’s got baggage, and he’s probably a bit of a rock star jerk. I don’t have time to deal with an arrogant attitude.

I have my own to deal with.

Suddenly, a couple miles away from Will and Meg’s house, my car jerks and drops in the front.

Fuck, I have a flat.

I pull to the side of the road and jump out of the car. It’s started to rain, that thick, cold, biting rain that Seattle is famous for in the winter. Thank God I was dressed for unpacking, in my jeans and sneakers and a hoodie.

Not my every day attire.

I stand in the rain, my red hoodie over my hair, and stare at the tire. This is the perfect end to the week from hell. I sigh and look up and down the street around me and then give the tire a quick kick, managing to stub my toe in the process.

Shit! I hop around in a circle and then scowl at the tire again.

Fucking tire.

Well, I could call roadside assistance, but it’s just a flat tire, and I could have it changed before the guy got here to help.

I open the tiny trunk of the car and remove the small donut spare, jack and lug-nut-removal-thingie. I don’t know what the tools are called, but I’m sure as hell thankful that my dad made me learn how to use them.

Just as I lean the spare against the car and set the jack under the axle, a familiar car pulls up behind me, and I sigh deeply.

Leo.

Sonofabitch.

He unfolds his lean body from his black muscle car and walks to me, black Converse crunching over the gravel, seemingly unfazed by the rain. He’s wearing a leather jacket, open in the front, over his white t-shirt and loose jeans. He’s covered his head with a black knit beanie.

“Problem?” He asks with a half-smile, that lip piercing catching my eye.

Why am I attracted to a lip piercing?

I don’t know, but I am.

“Just a flat. I’m gonna change it. You don’t have to stay.” I start working on the lug nuts.

Leo hasn’t moved.

“You don’t have to stay,” I repeat more firmly and look up into his handsome face.

“Do you honestly think I’m going to leave you here, at the side of the road, to change out a flat by yourself?” He asks, his eyes have gone colder, and I frown.

“I have this handled.”

Instead of stalking back to his car and driving off, he leans his ass on my car, crosses his arms over his chest, and watches me with those stormy eyes the same color as the clouds currently dumping cold water on us.

“Suit yourself.” I shrug and return to the task at hand. God, the rain is cold and the wind has picked up now, making my hands throb and I wish for gloves, but refuse to let Leo see my discomfort. The nuts come off smoothly until I get to the last one, which is on too tight.

I struggle with it, grunting, and fall on my ass with the effort.

The nut didn’t move.

“Damn,” I mutter and glare at the tire.

Strong hands wrap around my upper arms and lift me to my feet. “God, you’re a tiny thing,” he mutters and moves me aside. He squats beside the tire and easily loosens the stubborn nut.

“I loosened it for you,” I tell him with a stubborn set to my chin.

“Of course,” he chuckles and pulls the flat tire off the axis. “Are you always this stubborn?”

I cross my arms over my chest, burying my hands against my ribs to warm them up. “Pretty much.”

He laughs and shakes his head, his tattooed fingers mounting the new tire and tightening the lug nuts. I can’t look away from his hands, the vivid colors of the ink.

His body art is gorgeous.

I wonder what he’s got under his clothes? He’s typically shirtless in publicity shots, so I know he has sleeves on his arms, a tat across his chest, stars on his hips, but I’d love to see under his pants.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and force the shirtless image out of my head just as he lowers the jack and gathers my tools and replaces them in the trunk with the flat tire.

“You didn’t have to do that you know.” I offer him a half-smile and then laugh out loud when he scowls at me.

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