Chapter 12 Aspen
Aspen
If flirting was an Olympic sport, Joz Raynor would win the gold medal.
If one of my friends had sat me down and relayed the past few weeks to me as though it were her experience, I’d have advised her to stay as far away from Joz Raynor as she could get.
It was well documented that rock stars made terrible partners, and who needed that kind of angst in their lives?
Not me, that was for sure. I had enough on my plate fighting for my place at a table built by and for men.
Except a nagging voice deep inside me kept harping on and on that Joz was different.
Sure, he’d had his fair share of women. Show me a rich, successful, gorgeous celebrity who hadn’t, especially one in his mid-thirties.
Besides, like he’d said, it wasn’t as though he was proposing marriage.
It might be kind of fun to shake off the shackles I’d tied around myself in a bid to be taken seriously by industry titans I didn’t give a shit about, anyway.
Who cared if some privileged, white CEO thought less of me for having a sex life?
The question I had to answer, though, was whether it was ethical for me to have a relationship with Joz, even if only a casual fling.
There was no question I found him attractive, and he’d made no secret of his feelings toward me from the first moment we met.
I saw no use in asking my brothers, either.
To my knowledge, neither of them had ever dated anyone that worked for them.
But my cousin Asher had. And his brother, Johannes. And Kadon, another cousin of mine. They must have found a way to square the circle. Tomorrow, I’d call Asher. He was probably the one I’d get the most sensible answer from.
All I had to do was survive this evening without giving in to Joz’s considerable charms.
Not an easy feat.
“Nice place.” He casually slid an arm around my shoulder as we entered the reception area of Theo’s, a restaurant my cousin Penn opened a few years ago in honor of his best friend.
Theo sadly died in a car accident before they could start this venture together.
Since it had opened, it had gone from strength to strength and just recently achieved its second Michelin star.
I shouldn’t have encouraged Joz, especially as I hadn’t made up my mind about us…
yet, but I liked having his arm around me.
Although to say ‘us’ seemed almost laughable.
There was no ‘us’. There was the offer of a fling if I felt like having an itch scratched.
A mutually beneficial romp in the sack until the fire burned out.
“Yeah, Penn has worked hard on it.” I gave my name to the greeter, whose eyes briefly flared when she laid eyes on Joz before she resumed her professional pose.
Many celebrities visited Theo’s, but Joz was definitely in the megastar category.
It was unsurprising she’d let the veneer slip for a second.
“Right this way, Ms. Kingcaid.” After gathering two leather-bound menus from behind the desk, she glided into the restaurant, seating us in a secluded booth where we wouldn’t be overlooked. “Your server will be over shortly to take your drinks order.”
She backed away, but not before giving Joz a lingering look. To his credit, he didn’t react at all. In fact, I wasn’t sure if he even noticed her considering his eyes were fixed on me. Reaching across the table, palm up, he beckoned to me.
“Give me your hand.”
“Why? Are you planning to do a palm reading?”
He grinned. “Just give me your hand.”
“Okay.” I did as he asked.
He closed his fingers around mine and just… sat there, studying me as though I was the most fascinating creature he’d ever met.
“What are you doing?”
“Savoring you.”
Oh, fuck.
“I’m not on the menu.”
“Not yet, no. But whatever I choose to eat tonight, I already know it won’t be anywhere near as tasty or as sweet as you.”
I rolled my eyes, but inside my stomach turned over and over. It was a line, and a cheesy one at that, but there was something in his eyes as he spoke that lent a sincerity I would have brushed aside from anyone else.
“You’re not planning to make this easy, are you?”
“No.”
“I appreciate your honesty, at least.”
“What’s the point in lying? I want you. You want me.
Although I admit you took a while longer to warm up than I did.
If I’d had my way, I’d have taken you back to my place the first day we met and fucked you until you forgot every man who’d been lucky to capture your attention, even for a moment.
I’d have fucked you until the only fingers and mouth and tongue and dick you could remember belonged to me.
I’d have fucked you until my cock and your cunt were raw, then I’d have eaten you out until you begged me to stop. ”
My jaw literally dropped, but as I flapped around for a suitable response, someone off to my right cleared their throat.
When I dragged my gaze from Joz’s intense stare, I found the server standing beside our table, her face hot enough to fry an egg on her cheeks.
I tried to tug my hand from Joz’s, but he held on tighter.
“I’ll have still water, plenty of ice,” he said without taking his eyes off me. “Aspen?”
“Um, the same.” I could have murdered a vodka and tonic, but two things stopped me.
One, I needed a clear head to stand a chance of resisting Joz, and there wasn’t a hope in hell he’d compete on a level playing field.
Two, it didn’t feel right to drink in front of him when he’d told me he was a recovering addict.
Yes, I’d drunk brandy that first day in London in that dive bar, but I hadn’t known his circumstances then.
Besides, he’d been the one to buy it for me.
But now that I knew, I wanted to support him in this small way.
The young woman backed away, relief palpable on her face.
“Oh, my God.” When I tugged this time, he let me go. “She heard every word you said.”
“So?” Joz shrugged. “I meant every word I said.”
“You have no shame, do you?”
“If by shame you’re asking whether I give a toss what people think of me, then no, I have no shame.”
“I have a reputation to uphold, and so do you.”
“Meh.” He hitched a shoulder. “If the press decide to trash you, then they’ll trash you. They won’t need evidence, just a desire to fuck you over.” For a second, his eyes shimmered, and he blinked slowly a couple times.
“I’m sorry for what happened.”
His features twisted, his eyes crinkling and lip curling in a pained grimace. “It was a long time ago.”
“But you haven’t put it behind you, have you?”
A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, and I braced for him to lose his temper and storm out like he had at the press conference, but moments later, he sort of slumped, as though holding his head up proved far too difficult.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
I tilted my head to the side. “Of course.”
“Can we not talk about the past?”
“We don’t have to, no, but like I said in London, talking to someone might be a good idea. When you’re ready.”
He nodded. “I hear you.” Bringing my hand to his lips, he gently kissed my fingertips. “I’m much more interested in living in the present. The past is done and the future isn’t guaranteed. I’d rather talk about you.”
“I’ve no idea why. I lead a pretty boring life.”
“Gimme a day in the life of CEO supremo Aspen Kingcaid.”
I chuckled. “Supremo. I’ll tell my family that next time they’re showcasing one of my many mistakes.”
“I’m sure they make plenty of their own.”
“I think hearing about the average day in the life of a world-famous rock star would be far more interesting.”
“Okay.” He released me as our water arrived, and we ordered our food.
I simultaneously mourned the loss of warmth and was relieved by it.
Joz had the intense rock star down to a T, and his touch rattled me.
Not in a please don’t do that way, but more, Christ, I want to know what it feels like if he touches more than my hand.
Until I’d squared the circle on the morality of starting something up with him, I intended to keep my distance.
If not my sanity.
“If we focus on the last few weeks while I’ve been holed up in my apartment, it’s been along the lines of wake up, think about you, make coffee, think about you again.
Drink some horrible protein sludge while wondering if you’re thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about you.
Write a few lyrics and try not to make them all about you. ” He arched a brow. “Average enough?”
“Joz, I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
I shook my head. “You’re a reprobate.”
“Guilty.” He laughed. “Okay, I’ll try not to joke about everything. Ask me a question, and as long as it’s not about Caroline, I’ll answer it. Then I get to ask you one. Deal?”
“Hmm.” I tapped my finger against my bottom lip. His eyes went there, locking on to an innocent movement and making it intimate. I stuffed my hands beneath my thighs instead. “Why did your parents call you Joz? It’s an unusual name.”
“Ah.” He leaned back in his chair and rested his arm along the back. I couldn’t help staring at his tattooed forearms. The man had forearm porn all boxed off. Job filled. No one else need apply.
“My mother wasn’t well after I was born, so my sperm donor was given the important—and clearly far too taxing for his tiny brain—job of registering the birth.
They’d agreed on Jon. He was probably too busy flirting with the registrar, and he wrote down Joz.
Mum could’ve changed it, I guess, but…” He shrugged. “Paperwork. So, I stayed as Joz.”
That he called his father a sperm donor was interesting, but I wasn’t about to pry. The world wasn’t fair. Not every kid got the parents they deserved. I counted myself among the lucky ones. My parents were amazing.
“My turn.” His eyes gleamed, and I steeled myself. Anything could come out of his mouth.
“I’ll turn that question around on you. Why Aspen? That’s pretty unusual, too.”