Wicked White Page 14

I should do the right thing and hop on my bike and put as much distance between me and this place as possible. Eventually the media circus will find me, and the craziness of my world will be brought down all around Iris and her peaceful little existence, and she doesn’t deserve that.

Just before dark there’s a knock at my door. I push myself off the couch, bringing my beer with me as I fling the water away from my fucked-up hand and flex my sore fingers.

When I open the door, Iris stands there with a plate full of cookies wrapped in cellophane. She smiles, and this irks me because no matter how big of a dick I am to this girl, she still won’t give up being friendly to me.

“What?” I say a little more briskly than I mean to, and it causes her to flinch.

She swallows hard. “I brought you a peace offering.” She tilts the plate a little to draw my attention to the chocolate chip cookies. “And since you’re new in town, I thought maybe you’d want to come with us tonight to a bar in Cambridge to get out of this place for a while.”

“Which bar?” This invitation is tempting. So tempting, in fact, for a moment I consider saying yes. Selfishly, I crave more time with her.

She smiles, and I swear to God my heart skips a beat. “My friend Birdie and I are going to the bar she works at, Angel’s. You game?”

The thought of being out somewhere with this beautiful girl before me, dancing with her, holding her body against mine, is almost worth being recognized for. But I know if I’m playing it smart, I can’t be seen out with anyone. If one person notices me and is able to figure out who I am, the media and Jane Ann will be all over me before I have a chance to ditch them again. I’ll be forced to go back on tour and into a life that I no longer want to lead. I’m not ready to face that yet.

I sigh and hold up my beer. “Why would I leave when I got all the booze I need right here?”

Her green eyes flick over to my beer and then back to meet my gaze. “I was hoping we could start over—at least be friendly toward one another.”

It makes me more excited inside than I’m comfortable admitting that she wants me around her, but still I can’t let my guard down and get too comfortable here.

I let out a heavy breath. I guess I can I turn down the dick factor just a touch; God knows she’s really done nothing to deserve my cruelty. “Some other time, maybe. Be safe.”

Iris’s bottom lip juts out a bit as she pouts. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you around.” She halts midturn and holds out the plate in front of her. “Hope you like them. I made them myself.”

I raise my eyebrow. “They’re not poisoned?”

She laughs. “No. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt my knight in shining armor.”

She doesn’t say anything else, simply turns and leaves me standing there with a plate full of cookies that she made especially for me. My heart does a double thump in my chest at the thought of being her hero, but it’s not good that she sees me in that light.

A kind heart like hers isn’t something that’s easily found. Why couldn’t I have met her before I decided to take my ass into hiding and shut out the entire world? I can’t allow myself to get to know this girl, because our entire relationship would be built on nothing but lies and deceit. But besides all that, fame and the media would eat a nice girl like her alive.

Close to nine, laughter from Iris and her friend spill into my trailer through the open window in my kitchen that faces Iris’s place. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself from rushing over to the nearest window and taking a peek.

Iris’s long, brown hair is down, bouncing around her bare shoulders with each step as she makes her way to Birdie’s Corolla. The halter top she has on screams clubbing clothes, and paired with the jean skirt she’s wearing that shows off her long, toned legs, is just the right amount of sexy.

I pull the knuckle I didn’t even realize I was biting away from my teeth as she jumps in the car.

The idea of her being out there tonight, alone, drives me nuts. The mere thought of another man touching that smooth, soft skin that I long to caress with my own hands is enough to make me go out of my mind with jealousy.

As I grab the keys to my bike, I quickly convince myself that following her tonight is purely for her safety. I need to be there to protect her and watch out for her. I won’t allow another man to put his hands on her like Jeremy did today. She needs me.

After driving thirty minutes to Cambridge, I stop at the first gas station I come to and ask for directions to the bar Iris said she would be at. It doesn’t take me long to find Angel’s and spot Birdie’s little white Corolla parked outside.

It’s not a big place by any means, but judging from its two-story brick exterior, it should be plenty big enough for me to move around inside without Iris noticing me watching her like a total creeper.

I park my bike around the side of the building and then make my way up to the bald-headed bouncer wearing a black T-shirt that reads “Angel’s” across the chest.

“ID,” he asks as I approach.

I fish my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans before handing him my driver’s license. Momentary panic sets in as the tank of a man scrutinizes my identification card a little longer than necessary before handing it back to me. “Have a good time.”

Whew. That was close. For a moment there I thought the haircut and shave wouldn’t be enough to throw a true fan off my scent, but lucky for me, the guy didn’t let on that he knew who I was even if he did. He’s probably not exactly a pop music fan.

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