Long Hair Don't Care Read online

  Well, crap.

  I took a deep breath.

  I’d never had a crush on anyone. Not once. Not in my entire life. I’d never really understood why people did, to be honest. But right now, I got it. It wasn’t something you could control. Which was unfortunate. Because if I could turn off these feelings, I definitely would.

  He took a step forward, and we were alone on the deck.

  Yup. I would definitely shut this off. My heart was beating too fast, and the air felt too thin.

  Not a fan. Definitely not a fan.

  “Am I too late?” he asked, that smile growing.

  I shook my head. “Not late at all.”

  “Thanks for calling the restaurant,” he said. “You didn't have to do that.”

  “Did it help?”

  He nodded. “It did.”

  “Good. You shouldn’t get in trouble for doing a good deed,” I said. I fought the urge to wince. I could hear every word out of my mouth, and it sounded so awkward it was painful.

  But his smile grew wider like he was amused. “Good deed, huh? Is that what you are?”

  I shrugged. “Wasn’t I?”

  He moved closer, and now he was so close I could have reached out and touched him.

  And I wanted to.

  The fact that I wanted to made my heart leap with fear and...maybe a little excitement. It was hard to tell the two apart, they seemed to be wrapped up into one overwhelming emotion.

  And just like all my emotions today, they wouldn’t let themselves be tucked down where they belonged.

  “You feeling better?” he asked. The look in his eyes made me dizzy. It was concern, yes. But not the same worry I’d been seeing from my friends all night long.

  His look was softened with affection. Like he genuinely cared.

  I gave my head a shake to rid myself of the thought, but apparently he took it the wrong way. “No?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

  “No. I mean, yes.” I squeezed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself today. I probably shouldn’t be allowed to speak to anyone.”

  “Allowed?” He laughed softly. “Who would stop you?”

  “Me.” I would normally stop myself. But standing out here alone with the local bad boy, I was so outside of my comfort zone I couldn’t see normal with a telescope.

  “Well…” He shifted even closer until I had to tilt my head back to keep holding his gaze. “I hope you’ll keep talking to me for a little while because I have a favor to ask of you.”

  I blinked. “A favor?”

  He cleared his throat, his gaze sliding away for a second. For the first time ever, he seemed uncomfortable. Not one hundred percent certain of himself, at least. “If you have the time.”

  My brows came down. “The time for what?”

  He took a deep breath, and his gaze darted back to meet mine. “I need help studying for the SATs.”

  I blinked about twelve times as I processed this unexpected statement. “I see.”

  He shifted, clearly waiting for an answer.

  I was too busy trying to shove a wave of disappointment down and out of sight. He needed help studying. Of course. That definitely explained why he was out here talking to me and not inside flirting with Savannah or hanging out with his actual friends like, Callie and Flynn.

  His warm, dark gaze was fixed on me, and I fidgeted. “Um, I suppose I do owe you.”

  Wrong answer.

  His smile fell flat, and the softness in his eyes disappeared. “No, Willow, I didn’t mean…” He let out a loud exhale and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze everywhere but on me as he took in the deck, which was my favorite spot in this whole house.

  “I didn’t mean to call in a favor. You don’t owe me anything.” He shrugged. “I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other. And I do need help, but I totally get it if you don’t have the time—”

  “I do.” I couldn’t wait for him to pause because his first response was still ringing in my ears and wrapping around me like a terry-cloth robe warm from the dryer. I just thought it might be nice to get to know each other.

  He wanted to get to know me. That wasn’t just nice, that was...novel. And the fact that I wanted to get to know him better too? That was undeniable. “I do have the time,” I said.

  “You do?” He arched a brow.

  I nodded. “I do.”

  His smile was back, and a tension I hadn’t realized had formed in my chest eased along with it. “Cool.”

  I bit my lip and tried to organize my questions. Why did he need to take these tests, and what did he have to study? What was his schedule, and how did he know—

  “I love it out here,” he said suddenly.

  He was still looking around, and I followed his gaze. I smiled at the sight around me. The warm yellow Christmas lights, the thick off-white blankets that rested on the wooden deck chairs. The lanterns that glowed in the center of the table and the candles filled the air with a spicy aroma.

  “Hygge,” I said.

  He looked at me like I’d spoken Danish. Because I had. “It’s a word for a cozy atmosphere…” I trailed off before I really got going. There were few things I was passionate about, but Hygge was one of them. Most of the house I considered to be my parents’ space. But my room and this deck were mine, and I’d made them as inviting and homey as I could. I took pride in that.

  His smile widened, and there were those creases at the side of his mouth. The dimples on steroids. “It fits you.”

  I looked around. “You think?”

  “I do.” Something about the way he was looking at me made me feel hot all over. My insides were warm, melting, gooey, and soft. It was freakin’ Hygge central in my chest.

  “Thank you for letting me into your home,” he said.

  I blinked, utterly at a loss. It felt like he was saying more than just ‘thanks for having me at your party.’ It felt like way more, but maybe that was just me and my crazy overactive emotions.

  “You’re welcome?” No clue why it came out as a question.

  He smiled as if I’d made a joke. “Willow?”

  “Yes?”

  “I really want to kiss you right now.”

  I blinked once. Twice. Maybe eighteen more times because— “What?”

  His smile didn’t falter. He didn’t seem offended even though my tone was too harsh. My breathing was even harsher. He wanted to...he said he wanted…

  He was kidding. Obviously.

  Except...he wasn’t laughing. Just smiling like he was amused by my shock.

  “What about Savannah?” I blurted out.

  His brows arched. “What about her?”

  “I thought you liked her.”

  He huffed through his nose, and I got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh. “First you accuse me of flirting with Callie, and now I’m supposed to have a thing for Savannah?”

  “Don’t you?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “She’s gorgeous, and I’m a flirt.”

  I shook my head, frustration and confusion making my tongue looser than normal. “Is that a yes?”

  His gaze grew serious. “That’s a no. I don’t have any real feelings for your friend.”

  “She’s my co-worker,” I said. As if that was relevant.

  “Not your friend?” he asked.

  I shrugged. I didn’t know. My relationship with my co-workers wasn’t as cut and dry as that. At work and after work we were friendly, but at school? Not so much. And I wasn’t certain any of us would be friends at all if we didn’t have work in common. So did that mean our friendship didn’t count?

  Another question for the list. My poor therapist was going to have her work cut out for her at our next session.

  “Well, friend or co-worker, I’m not interested.” He leaned in slightly. “In her.”

  I swallowed. “Does that mean you are interested in me?”

  His smile was so sweet it made my belly dip and weave. “I meant it when I said I w
ant to kiss you. And that I want to get to know you better. So yes. I’m interested.”

  He sounded like he was just sorting that out for himself as well as me, but the fact that he was admitting he was interested didn’t seem to alarm him.

  It alarmed me.

  But even more alarming was the realization that he was so close I could just lean in and kiss him.

  Because he wanted to kiss me.

  Roman wanted to kiss me.

  The thought made my head spin. “I-I-I—” I stopped when I realized eloquent speech was impossible. “Okay.”

  His eyes lit up with a glow that ought to be illegal. That look could hypnotize a girl. It could make her believe just about anything—even that this was real.

  I took a quick step back. “Wait.”

  He pulled back as well, but his smile never faded. “No rush. I’m not trying to pressure you, Willow.”

  “You aren’t pressuring me. I just…” I let out a long breath, and if he’d said anything, I would have stopped altogether. But he just waited. Patient and kind.

  Maybe that was the secret to his charisma. Maybe that was why girls found him irresistible and every guy thought he was cool.

  He was cool. I mean, he played guitar and looked like an ancient god. But he was also kind. So very kind.

  “I’m just overwhelmed,” I blurted out.

  His eyes widened, and a beat of silence followed that made me want to curl up and hide. But then he started talking, words tumbling out in a heap. “Oh crap, I’m sorry. You’ve had a bad day, and here I am putting you on the spot—”

  “No, no,” I said quickly. “You’re not putting me on the spot, but I don’t trust myself to make any decisions right now.”

  And that was the truth. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with me today—or these past couple weeks, to be honest—but I didn’t trust myself. I didn’t even recognize myself.

  “Decisions, huh?” One corner of his mouth hitched up in a crooked grin. “I’m not sure kissing is a debatable matter. It comes down to physical desire.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. Like he discussed physical desires with every girl he met.

  Maybe he did. What did I know?

  Nothing. That was the answer. I knew next to nothing about this guy except that he was kind, talented...and he wanted me to help him study. My nose crinkled up as a new thought occurred to me. “Did you just want to kiss me because I’ll be helping you? Like as payment?”

  His amusement didn’t quite hide the flicker of hurt—and I was officially the worst. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” I said quickly.

  “This was not payment,” he said. “Although it’s good to know my lips have a currency of their own.” He wagged his eyebrows, and I found myself choking on a laugh.

  “That’s not what I meant. I just meant…” I shook my head. Talking was not doing me any favors. “Never mind. I don’t know what I meant.”

  He leaned back against the banister, out of my space, and I could breathe again. And all at once I remembered my co-workers inside the house. For a second there, I’d forgotten there was anyone here but us.

  “We should discuss payment.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as his gaze moved over me thoughtfully. “I can’t just ask you to help me without offering something in return.”

  “Yes, you can,” I said. “I don’t mind. I like studying. I’m good at it.” I added an awkward rueful smile. “It’s pretty much all I’m good at.”

  His smile faded a bit. “That’s what I always say about the guitar.”

  I shrugged. “So there you go. If I’d asked you to teach me how to play guitar, you wouldn’t be put out right? Because it’s what you love. It’s what you’re good at.”

  His smile was sudden, brilliant, and devastatingly sexy when he pushed away from the banister. “It’s settled then.”

  I widened my eyes. “It is?”

  “Music lessons,” he said. He pointed a finger at me. “You and me. We’ll use our powers for good and teach each other what we know best.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  “Unless you’re already a master guitarist, and I just don’t know it,” he added, a teasing note in his voice.

  I shook my head. I’d never had any real desire to learn how to play an instrument. And I wasn’t certain I really wanted to now. But he looked so pleased with himself, I couldn’t bring myself to argue. And with those laugh lines in full effect and the dimples-times-ten winking at me, I was powerless to say anything but, “Okay.”

  His grin broadened, and there was a new heat in his eyes that made me think I’d agreed to something more than just music lessons.

  My belly flipped and twisted as excitement rushed through my veins. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  Was it?

  Eight

  Roman

  * * *

  Dylan eyed me over his bass when band practice finally ended. “Is there a reason you’re kicking us out?”

  I leaned against an amp, feigning nonchalance that I so did not feel. “I’m not kicking you out.”

  Ax arched his brows in clear disbelief, and I clamped my mouth shut to keep from prodding them out the door.

  Even Callie was frowning at me as she gathered up her bag and jacket from a chair in the corner. “You’re acting weird, Roman. What’s up?”

  I made a pshh noise that likely fooled no one. But what was I supposed to say? I have a completely irrational infatuation with your friend?

  Something told me Callie would have questions.

  Heck, I had questions.

  And an even bigger something told me that Willow wouldn’t want me gossiping about my feelings—or this new arrangement—to anyone. Not even her friend.

  Maverick’s arrival in my garage mercifully cut off any more questions from Callie. She clearly forgot all about me as she threw herself into Maverick’s waiting arms.

  The two of them were cute together. The perfect fit, even though it might not be obvious at first glance.

  And look at me suddenly watching a couple with envy. I’d never once wanted a commitment before. I’d never seen the appeal or the need to settle down with one girl. But seeing Callie and Maverick, I experienced a distinctive pang of something green.

  What would it be like to be with someone who understood you so well? Someone who believed in you? Someone who expected more from you?

  Willow’s voice filled my head for the millionth time. Do better. Be better. And the thought of her had me hustling around, picking up Ax’s jacket and tossing it to him in an attempt to get them out sooner rather than later.

  Willow would be here any minute now. Who was giving her a lift? I didn’t know. I’d offered, but she’d said no. So here I was. Waiting and pacing and…

  Were my palms clammy?

  I wiped them on my jeans. Crap. I’ve never gotten nervous over a girl before. But Willow wasn’t just a girl. She was...the girl.

  I shut my eyes and cursed under my breath. That line of thinking was not helping matters. If I hadn’t been nervous before, I would definitely be freaking out now.

  Callie and Maverick were talking in low voices, and Callie was giggling over something when they reached the door. So when her voice suddenly got all loud and high with surprise, I knew what was coming.

  “Willow? What are you doing here?” Callie asked. “Wait, is Flynn here too?”

  Callie looked back at me, but I couldn’t see Willow because she was hidden behind Maverick and her responses were drowned out by Callie’s much louder voice. “Is there a party happening here and you didn’t tell us?”

  “What?” Ax pretended to be offended, but my longtime friend wore a mischievous grin as he clapped a hand over his heart. “Why wouldn’t you invite us?” As he passed me, he lowered his voice. “Unless this is a party for two?”

  I smacked the back of his head, making him laugh. And when Dylan passed, he gave his head a shake. “Dude. Don’t tell me you’re gonna be one of those g
uys.”

  I rolled my eyes. Dylan was way more invested in the players rep we’d earned than I was. I’d never wanted a girlfriend, but I’d never been some jackass who only sees a girl as an easy lay either.

  I’d been somewhere in between, which I guess didn’t exactly make me a good guy. But I wasn’t the worst.

  I’m not the worst. I winced a bit as I pushed my friends toward the door, which was now blocked by a still-stunned Callie and a glowering Maverick—to be fair, he pretty much always glowered. But I suspected right at this moment, as his gaze moved from a silent, subdued and unreadable Willow to me—he was wondering if he ought to be worried.

  Or maybe wondering if he ought to kick my ass.

  I truly hoped he’d never have to, but I couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that the big guy looked out for his friends the way he did.

  I just hoped I never gave him a reason to kick my ass on Willow’s behalf.

  The thought did little to help my nerves because now all I could think about was how little experience I had with girls like Willow. Serious girls. The kind of girls who expected things from a guy.

  But fortunately for me, the guys were shuffling past Maverick and the girls, and Willow was explaining to Callie how she was here to help me study. If Callie looked bemused and like she was brimming with questions, Willow either didn’t notice or didn’t acknowledge it.

  Soon enough, she’d handily dispensed of the others, and we were alone.

  “Welcome,” I said, gesturing broadly and earning myself a cute, shy little smile in return. “It’s no...Hygge?” I arched my brows, and she nodded. “But it’s home.”

  She murmured something about it being nice as her gaze roamed over the space. I was grateful she didn’t point out that ‘home’ for me was a garage.

  I was well aware that this was not the Taj Mahal, but it was soundproofed and it was mine. When she turned back to me, she wore a smile. “I like it here.”

  I felt her smile like a blow to my solar plexus. “I like that you like it here.”

  She laughed softly, a huff of air that came along with a slight blush. Just like the other day at the hospital, she was clutching books to her chest like armor. She looked every inch the nerdy bookworm, and her long hair was wrapped up tight atop her head.