Part 20 (1/2)

He turns to me, a smile on his face. ”Yeah, I planned to tell you tonight at dinner.”

”That's awesome.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

”Maybe we shouldn't show too much affection in front of your dad. I don't think he likes me,” he whispers in my ear and I unhook my arms.

”Dad.” My voice is stern and I raise my eyebrows at him.

”It's nice to meet you, Rob.” My dad holds his hand out to Rob.

”Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.” Rob and my dad shake hands, but Rob steps right back in line with me. Then he surprises me more than he has in the months past. ”Show me the picture of you.”

I'M NOT SURE I've completely processed Paige Kensington is Greg Thompson from The Raptures daughter. I mean, now that I think about all the stuff she's told me, it makes sense.

Did I f.u.c.king rave about their music? Tell Greg Thompson that he's the reason I'm a guitarist? h.e.l.l yeah, but even if the knowledge of Paige's father might still be processing, the fear in her eyes when she introduced me isn't. All her demons make sense now.

Even though I'm a college dropout, it didn't take me long to remember all her odd behavior and weird statements since I told her we were coming to the museum. She thought I'd use her and I had to squash that belief before she grabs on to any reason to ruin what's forming between us.

”Did you take your mom's name or something?” I whisper to her as her dad and bandmates sign autographs from the few fans left inside the museum. They closed twenty minutes ago, but the staff is making exceptions.

”My birth certificate is Thompson, but to keep the anonymity I go by Kensington.” She shrugs and I get it.

”Man, I feel like I don't even know you.” I smirk and her eyes cast down to her feet.

”Hey, that was a joke.” I dip down to meet her eyes.

”I know. I'm sorry. This is my demon.” Her voice is so soft I only heard sorry and demon, but it was enough to connect the dots.

”I figured.” Her face flies up to meet my eyes.

”Paige. I'm not blind and your eyes speak for you when your mouth isn't.”

”Oh.” Her shoulders falter.

”I'm with you for you, not your dad, or your connections.”

”What a great first date.”

I chuckle, yanking her into my arms.

As I swing her body side to side, that fruity shampoo highjacks my senses. ”It's always a great date as long as you're with me.”

”When did you become so sweet?” She draws back and narrows her eyes.

”The day you took the room.” I stare down at her, my thumb brus.h.i.+ng along her red lip.

”Yeah, okay.” She elongates the okay and I wish she believed me.

I might not have known what she was about to erupt out of me when I offered that key, but she took more than that key from me and I don't want any of it back.

Bending down, I lower my voice. ”I'll prove it tonight.”

A devilish glimmer lightens her eyes. ”I can't wait.”

”So, kids. Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here.” Paige's dad hits me on the shoulder and I remove my arms from his daughter.

He hasn't exactly been warm and fuzzy.

”Dad, we're going to drive back to Western.”

”The h.e.l.l you are.” Len comes over and wraps his arm around Paige's shoulders.

”We start tour tomorrow; we're going to dinner. I won't see you for a few months.” Paige glances back to me and I nod. Seriously, she's asking me if it's okay to hang out with The Raptures, is she insane?

I may not be with Paige for her dad, but s.h.i.+t, her dad is f.u.c.king Greg Thompson! I'll keep that excited me under wraps until she believes in me.

”Ash,” he calls one of the bodyguards over. ”I need you to call the hotel and book another room.” He eyes me. ”Maybe two.”

”You'll be wasting your money on the other room, Dad.” Paige chimes in and I love her sa.s.siness.

”Is that true Rob, will I be?” He leans in close and all I breathe in is cigarettes and musky cologne.

”No, sir, I can drive back to Western and pick Paige up in the morning.” Man, this guy is intimidating.

He slaps my back again. ”I'm kidding, kid. You need to loosen up.” Then he leans in. ”We will have a chat before the night's over though.”

”Give me the time and I'm there.” He wraps his arm around my neck and manipulates me in a headlock. What are we, twelve?

”You got a good one here, Paige. I think I'm going to like him.”

We file into the elevator and Paige's eyes find me. ”Don't feel special; my dad likes all my boyfriends. He's more of a big brother than a dad.” Her face is dead serious, until I notice a crack of her lips.

She flees the others and saunters over to my side. ”Just kidding. Dad's never met anyone.”

”I probably never would have met you either. Paige doesn't allow me out much.” He laughs with Len and Hank. ”Who would think having a rock star for a father would embarra.s.s your daughter?” They all shrug and from what I know they all have kids. Families in fact. Greg is the only one not married.

Before I can process it all, we are rushed into a black limo out the back door, and shuffled through a kitchen as workers' eyes follow us with their jaws open. Paige's spying eyes keep waiting for a reaction. She's testing me to find out how I react to the once in a lifetime experiences. I'm trying to tone down my excitement, but d.a.m.n, it's hard. I mean I'm going out to eat with The Raptures, like an actual private meal. This is not even close to having a backstage pa.s.s; I have three great musicians that I could be drilling with questions, but I don't. If I start going crazy and let the bottled-up enthusiasm out, Paige is going to freak and maybe back pedal from me.

Once we're seated in a curtained-off room, I have no idea what restaurant we're in until the menu gets handed to me. I open it up to find no prices for items I don't recognize. Definitely a five-star restaurant.

Paige leans in and whispers, ”I'm going to the bathroom.”

”Did you want me to go with you?”

She shakes her head. ”I think I can handle it, but thank you.”

Paige exits the curtained-off room and when I swivel back around three pairs of eyes are glued on me. When a waiter begins to come in, Greg only lifts his hand and shakes his head. Is this how fearful it is when you get caught ratting out the mob? When they grab you from the street, tie you to a chair and hammer questions to you.

s.h.i.+t, my face is too pretty to get beat up.

”So, Rob, you're a guitarist?” We haven't discussed that so I'm a little surprised he knows.