Page 12 of Heartbreaker

CHAPTER FOUR

Jade

Electricity fillsthe air in the car.

I can’t breathe when he looks at me, but I can’t look away.

He’s mesmerizing, larger than life.

And yet, I sense a touch of vulnerability under the cranky exterior.

Despite what he says, my gut tells me heisa good guy. Maybe rough around the edges, and definitely closed off, but there’s a gentleman beneath the gruff façade. Of course, there’s also a ton of chemistry between us. And no mistaking the fact that he’s staring at me like he wants to have me for dessert.

“I’m sure you know my story,” he says after a moment.

“I know what the press put out there but I’ve been around enough to know that’s probably only half the truth.”

He snorts. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not untouched by the pitfalls of the media.”

Our eyes meet and he nods. “None of us are. But the last two years have been rougher than any other time since I started playing rock and roll.”

“I’m sorry.” I put a hand on his forearm. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. But we don’t have to talk about that unless you want to.”

He sighs, is quiet for a long moment then says, so softly I can barely hear it, “Talking about the past just rips the scab off wounds that take a long time to heal.”

My heart squeezes. “Then tell me about the present.”

His blue eyes gentle. “There isn’t a whole lot going on in the present. I have a goddaughter I spend a lot of time with. She’s three. Her name is Frankie. Her mom is my best friend’s sister, and the dad is a deadbeat, so the four of us—me and my buddies Dash, Banks, and Atlas—have essentially stepped into the role.”

“That’s wonderful,” I say. “So instead of having one not-so-great dad, she’s got four amazing uncles. She sounds like a lucky little girl.”

The obvious love on his face for his niece has my heart squeezing again. “I’d like to think so. I’m teaching her to play guitar. It’s about the cutest thing you’ll ever see.” He hesitates. “Want to see a video?”

“Absolutely.”

He opens his phone and soon I’m laughing along with him as a delightful little girl with dark curls plays ‘Old MacDonald’ and ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’

“She’s good,” I say. “There’s a lot of potential there.”

“Yeah. She’s a natural.”

“She reminds me of me. I started young too. And I couldn’t get enough. Guitar, piano, saxophone…I even tried the trumpet in marching band in high school.”

“That’s something I’d pay to see,” he says, chuckling.

“It was short-lived, thankfully. I quit after freshman year and joined jazz band instead.”

“Sounds better than standing outside in the August heat in Tennessee.’

“You got that right—oh, we’re here.”

We’re pulling through the gate at Rico’s house, and there are only a handful of cars outside.

“This is Rico Galagos, right?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

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