You Really Got Me (Rock Star Romance #1) by Erika Kelly Page A

that his dad had done right by him.
    Jesus, the power in those words. It just floored him.
    What the hell did Emmie see in him?
    He took in her profile, her attention now fixed on the band. Closing him out.
    And,
fuck
, he wanted her back.

SIX
    Slater heard the front door slam. He opened his bedroom door and heard Emmie sigh. Quickly setting his book aside, he headed down to the living room to find a pile of stuffed recyclable grocery bags by the front door. Lifting them, he brought them into the kitchen where he found her sweaty and flushed.
    And then it struck him. “You
carry
the groceries?”
    “Of course. How else would I get them home?”
    “I don’t know.” He hadn’t even thought about it. “Why don’t you drive your brother to work so you can have the van on days like today?”
    “He needs it. He does errands during his breaks. Like today, he’s picking up the new T-shirts.”
    Slater couldn’t believe it. For two weeks, she’d done the grocery shopping by herself. He pulled a receipt out of the bag. “Safeway? What the hell, Emmie, I thought you were going to Desi’s.”
    “Why would I go to Desi’s? It’s way more expensive.” She drew the back of her hand across her damp forehead. “Seriously, I don’t mind. In New York I walk all the time. I’m not used to being so sedentary.”
    Could Derek be that much of a dick that he’d let his sister walk a mile and a half to buy groceries for the six of them? He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the pitcher Emmie used to make lemonade, and poured her a glass. “Here.”
    “Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to—”
    He gave her a stern look.
    “Okay, thank you.”
    He got busy unloading the bags. “I’m here all day. I’ll take you to the store, for Christ’s sake. Why didn’t you ask me?”
    She didn’t answer, so he turned around to find her smirking.
    “What? You can ask me for a ride.”
    “Seriously, Slater? I wouldn’t ask you to drive me around on my errands.”
    “I’m telling you I don’t mind.” He shoved a gallon of milk into the refrigerator, filled with actual food for the first time in—ever. Yogurt, butter, cheeses, mustard, ketchup, lunch meat. Actual food.
    He felt like an ass. All this time—two weeks—she’d been without a car in a sprawling city. They lived on the outskirts of Austin, practically in the country, in a crappy little development. Without a car she could only go to the strip malls along Pleasant Valley Boulevard.
    He wished she’d been comfortable enough with him to ask for a ride . . . but . . . his thoughts went back to the skinny dipping incident. And all the cracks he made to get a rise out of her. He wished he hadn’t done that with her, and he didn’t know how to fix it.
    He straightened, stalling, not sure where to begin.
I’m sorry
wasn’t going to come out of his mouth. “You stopped swimming.”
    Her thumb rubbed the condensation on the glass. “Yeah. Not much of a swimmer.”
    “I fucked it up for you.” He took a step closer to the table, hands resting on the back of a chair.
    “Yeah. You did.”
    He rubbed the wood with his thumbs. “You left me hanging, not saying why Irwin didn’t like our demo.”
    “That’s not why you did it.”
    No, it wasn’t. But what could he say?
You got under my skin?
Not likely.
    “You’re so used to the game. I can’t tell whether it’s the only way you know of interacting with women or if you’re testing me to see if I secretly harbor fantasies about you.”
    “Do you?” He tried to play with her, get his leer on, but since she’d just called him out on it, he couldn’t find the energy. He felt like a tool.
    “Oh, I think you’re safe with me.”
    Something was going on with her. Some kind of internal crisis that went beyond wanting a promotion. She didn’t give away much at all, but the occasional reference to her love—or sex?—life made him wonder.
    See, this was why he didn’t like to be around her so much.