Page 4 of Rocks You Like a Cabernet

“Good luck man. I think you’re going to need it tonight.”

I nod, walking away.

It’s not luck I need tonight.

It’s a damn miracle.

Chapter Three

Bryn

Iexpected him to be late. He wasn’t.

I expected him to be wearing at least one piece of clothing that was leather. He wasn’t.

I expected him to have totally ignored my comment about not clashing with the color or my dress. The exasperating man took my concerns to heart and was wearing a sapphire blue dress shirt with dark suit pants.

In fact, if I had to admit it, the man looked good. Really good.

The bastard.

Twisting the fringe that’s dangling off my clutch, I try and ignore Henrik as we make our way to the event. I can sense he’s staring at me but I won’t give him the satisfaction of doing what he wants.

I’m trying. I really am, to not completely hate the man. I was expecting the stuck-up, misogynistic rockstar that I met three years ago. Instead a totally different person showed up on set. I know people can change…but this much?

I can still hear his voice in my head. The harsh, cruel words laughed out with the rest of his bandmates.

Nope. No, I’m not going down that rabbit hole right now. Not when in a couple of minutes I’m going to have to push all my feelings deep, deep, deep down and smile like he’s my best friend in the universe.

“You know,” he begins, his voice soft but commanding. “You are eventually going to have to acknowledge me. There will be people there waiting to take our picture together.”

I think about not answering him, but I have the sneaking suspicion that if I don’t say something about this topic, he’ll keep pestering.

Slowly, and with as haughty a look as I can muster, I turn my head to him.

“I don’t have to acknowledge you. I just have to smile and stand near you. Easy.”

“You know there’s a lot more to it than that Princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” I snap, the words out of my mouth before I realize how deep under my skin he’s gotten. “We’re not at a table read. We’re not on set. You don’t need to call me that.”

Satisfaction spreads across his face and it hits me that I’ve played directly into his hands.

“Finally,” he laughs, hands lifting into the air before landing back on his thighs. “You show me some emotion other than complete hate.”

I look away from him, tilting my chin higher. The scenery out the window is nothing but blurry lights–my senses and attention are still fully on Henrik even though I’m not looking at him.

“Annoyance is a good progression from hate. Tells me that there’s still a chance I can break this icey shell you’ve put up against me.” There’s a bit of a pause before I hear his exhale. “You know, Bryn,” he punctuates my name, “we could get over this little hurdle if you’d just tell me why you’re mad. I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you over the last week that would make you hate me this much.”

I snort. Of course he thinks it’s something he’s done this week. I was so inconsequential to him that he doesn’t remember the first time we met.

“You haven’t done anything this week.”

“Then what the hell, Bryn! Why the cold shoulder and dagger eyes every time I’m near if I haven’t done anything?”

“You haven’t done anything this week. I didn’t say you hadn’t done anything to me in the past.”

“Wait. You’re mad at me for something I did when my band auditioned you for the music video?”

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