Page 126 of Torrid Passion
“What aren’t you telling us?” Jagger isn’t going to let this slide.
I study him for a beat. “A lot.”
“We need another round of drinks?” he asks.
“Probably,” I concede.
Half an hour later, I’ve shared the highlights of the last week, holding back the more salacious parts. I’m upfront about Dark Compulsion. We’re all members. I even go back as far as Paris to explain my unreasonable infatuation with my baby sister’s best friend.
When I’m done, they all look at me without saying a word.
“She does have a certainje ne sais quoi,” Jace says breaking the silence.
“You speak French now?” I volley.
“Last month I was in New York and hooked up with this girl Mireille at a bar,” he explains.
“Talk about speed learning,” Jagger chuckles.
“I guess you could say that,” Jace nods. “She’s from Toulouse and she’d been in the US for only a few weeks. Very French. Very sexy. Very kinky. She was dying to know how different New Yorkers were from guys from LA. I offered myself as a test subject. It was an evening of grind, boys.”
We all shake our heads.
“What? Like you wouldn’t have banged her?” Jace defends.
“Does Harlow know?” Beckett asks me.
“She called me earlier—”
“You told her?” Jace is all over me.
“No. Not yet.”
Jagger pins me with a serious stare. “Do you even know what you’d tell her?”
“Are you two seeing each other?” Jace asks.
“Of course not,” Beckett answers on my behalf. “Lochlan Berkshire doesn’t date. None of us do. We don’t have to. Why limit yourself?”
I understand where Beckett is coming from.
Not to sound egotistical, but finding a woman to spend the night with isn’t very hard for me. Dark Compulsion makes it even easier. When Rod, Holt, Jace and Beckett were in the heydays of their former rock god career, pussy was child’s play. Women were literally throwing themselves at them––and at anyone in their entourage. I don't do relationships. Sounds cliché? It’s LA. My parents are the anomaly in this town. So are Kyla’s. I adhere to one simple philosophy, there are too many options to be bogged down with one woman. Then last week happened and everything changed.
“You and Kyla O’Keeffe—Hollywood’s princess…” Jagger nods. A crease appears and disappears in his cheek. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You’ve always looked at her a certain way,” he says.
I’m not even going to try to deny that.
“So what, they hooked up a couple of times. Big deal,” Beckett says.
Jagger ignores his cousin. “Have you defined what’s going on between you?” His comment surprises me.
“I’m still trying to figure it out, because eventually, I’ll have to tell Harlow.”
“Whoa!” Beckett and Jace say in unison.
“So you’re going to see her again?” Jagger asks.
I nod, not even bothering hiding the smile stretching my lips. “Kyla and I have our first official date tomorrow.”
