Heart Broke (Hard Rock Roots Book 8) by C.M. Stunich Page B

McCann. Don't stop. Keep wooing me.” Dax's sad little mouth turns up into a small smile.
    “Is that a no then?”
    “That would be a no, I've never done bukkake before.”
    “Thank god,” he whispers and I grin back at him. “No secret rock star lovers, love children, abortions or fanatical sociopath ex-boyfriends?”
    I tap my finger against my lips for a moment.
    “No, no, no, and no,” I say and then pause. “Unless, of course, you count as a secret rock star lover?”
    “Maybe,” Dax says, still smiling. I feel so comfortable with him, like we've known each other forever. I keep trying to tell myself that he's just an energy suck, that I should distance myself as best I can, but … I like him too much. Way, way, way too much. “Except that we've only fucked twice and the first time I was kind of, a little bit drunk during the whole thing …”
    “Still counts,” I say, getting a chill down my spine as I remember him slamming into me from behind, confessing that it wasn't Naomi he was thinking about in that moment. Is he over her? I glance his way and try to figure out how to bring that shit up. “Anyway, I was the one that initiated the whole thing. You just seemed so … sad. All of that crap with your dad, you know.” I purposely avoid the subject of Hayden and Tara. That moment haunts my dreams. I'm sure the last thing Dax wants is for me to bring that shit up.
    “I spoke to him the other day, you know,” he finally confesses and without even registering what I'm doing, I reach down and curl our fingers together. Dax freezes for a moment and then squeezes his hand tight around mine, his fingertips hot, the black knit fabric of his fingerless gloves comforting against my palm. “He said … some shit that I'm not even sure I believe. Maybe I shouldn't care? It's just … I've spent my whole life thinking that if my mom had lived, that she at least would've loved me. Based on what Arnold said, maybe that isn't true at all.”
    “Fuck that guy,” I say, bumping my shoulder into Dax. It's a balmy So Cal night so we're both sporting rolled up sleeves, our bare tattooed arms sliding together with the motion. I bite my lower lip at the goose bumps that spring up along my skin. I also may or may not start watering the downstairs lawn, if you catch my drift. “That man's sick in a way no doctor can cure. He's got a little black broken heart, and he isn't happy unless he's inflicting his disease on someone else. Be glad that he's not your dad, biological or otherwise. This is a fresh start for you, Dax McCann.”
    “You, too,” he says, looking at me with those dreamy eyes of his. I call them gray, but I think maybe they're really blue? I don't know, but when I get caught on them, I have a real, real hard time looking away. “This could be your fresh start just as easy.”
    “I guess so.” I drop Dax's hand and slide my fingers into the pockets of my black leather shorts. “Think there's a future for me in reality TV?” Dax looks over at me, but his face is sad again. I get it. His best friend's in the hospital, his dad isn't really his dad, his high school sweetheart and his lead singer are dead. He has a lot to be sad about. A ton. But all I really want is to see him smile.
    Woo.
    Like that line doesn't belong in a Lifetime made-for-TV movie. Yuck.
    “I think you could do anything you wanted,” Dax says as the houses start to get smaller, the streets a little less clean, the streetlights a little less frequent. “Is that too douche-y to say?”
    “You don't have to apologize for being the nice guy, Dax McCann,” I say as I pull out my phone and tap the app that'll let me call a cab. Once I do, I look back up at him. What did I say about getting rid of him again? Not sure how that's going to be possible with us living together. Hmm. I reach up and rub a thumb across Dax's lower lip, enjoying the shudder that passes through him at the touch. “It's because you're the nice guy that I like you.