Page 7 of Stuck With My Rockstar Boss
I laugh. “Well, you don’t wear your stage clothes on a normal day, do you?”
“Hell naw,” he chuckles.
“My look on the day to day is much less high maintenance than when I’m performing or at rehearsal.”
Lucas pauses, deciding if he’s going to say something. “Well, I like it.”
I try not to look surprised, but that comment makes me feel hot around the collar.
“Not that you asked or that it matters, what I think, but– “
“I think that’s the turn off,” I interrupt him, pointing toward our exit.
The conversation fizzles, and in no time at all, we are sitting on a flat-bottomed boat, gliding through the bayou. It’s truly like stepping back in time to the Jurassic period, the way the ancient trees curl out of the gurgling water. There are a few other riders with us, none of whom seem to recognize Lucas, and I can tell the proximity is making him feel off. I try to keep him distracted: “Whoever spots a gator doesn’t have to pay for drinks later.”
He smiles. “You’re on.”
There are several close calls, roughed up logs floating in the water masquerading as sharp toothed reptiles. But finally, Lucas grabs my bicep and points across the bayou, amongst the algae and swamp vines. Two eyes bulging above the water. “I win.”
I like his hand on my arm so much I can’t even be mad I lost the bet.
After the two-hour ride, we pick up some lunch and head out to one of the cemeteries. It’s a perfect place to disappear. Even though there are lots of other tourists ogling the mausoleums and over-the-top gravesites, everyone is so consumed with the sites and trying to be respectful that no one pays us any mind.
“Look at this one,” Lucas calls me over and points to a wide-winged angel standing atop a tomb.
“Man, who was this guy?”
He looks down at the tomb. “Just some guy.”
“Funny name.”
Lucas snorts.
The day seems to be a success so far. I mean, why wouldn’t I do this if I can travel the way I want and get paid to do it. It cancels out all my expenses. Add that to the hefty rate Lucas and I discussed… I didn’t even have to negotiate. The number was swollen and sexy and… hard to turn down.
We make it out to the French Quarter around sunset and stumble into one of the many different bars. To be honest, I’m exhausted. I think one drink and then I’ll be ready to head in for the night. “Okay, on me,” I grumble and start to pull my wallet out of my fanny pack.
“Stop it, I got it,” Lucas says and swiftly gets his wallet from his back pocket.
“A bet’s a bet.”
“Yeah, but you’re on the clock. Consider it part of your rate,” he grins. The black metal Amex in his hand is hard to say no to. “What are you drinking?”
“Oh my god, it’s totally him.”
We both stop. The color from Lucas’s face drains. I look over his shoulder; there are two young women tittering at the end of the bar, getting their phones ready to take a picture. “Don’t panic,” I say to Lucas.
“I’m trying.”
“Just breathe,” I say, looking into his green eyes. Man, it’s hard to not get distracted from my task at hand when his eyes are that easy. “You trust me?”
Lucas nods heavily.
I take his hand in mine and pull myself into him so I can put my mouth closer to his ear. “Just follow my lead.”
I can feel his heart racing.
“Put your hand on my waist. Act like I’ve said something dirty,” I instruct, keeping my eyes firmly on the girls at the end of the bar.
