Chapter 10

Hope had nowhere to run this time.

The guitarist at the pub had been a good distraction after the alley sex to fend off any possible awkwardness, but this time she couldn't flee considering this was her place and his crew would be arriving in half an hour to start work on her dream.

And he had this look in his eyes as she redressed and he took care of business, like he wanted to ask her questions she had no intention of answering. So she deflected as usual, using a mechanism honed from years of practice when avoiding any kind of deeper connection with a guy.

"Want to hear a song I wrote over the weekend?"

He hesitated, before nodding. "Sure."

She padded into the music room and sat at the piano. Immediately, her muscles relaxed and her shoulders unkinked, the tension of their post-sex interlude draining away to leave a welcome calm in its wake. When she rested her fingers on the keys, she entered her happy place, the smoothness of the ivory lulling her. It had always been like this, from the first moment she sat at her parents' Steinway, like magic had enveloped her and swept her away to a better world.

Her parents hadn't understood when she tried to explain it. They'd labelled her imaginative and dismissed her feelings as fanciful. It made it all the more special somehow, that only she could experience this kind of euphoria.

Her fingers drifted over the keys, plucking at middle C, B, D, setting the tone for her voice. She knew he wouldn't understand the meaning behind the words, just like her parents hadn't understood all those years ago, but she needed to sing, needed to get grounded in a world frighteningly topsy-turvy.

Thanks to Logan.

She'd never been so captivated by a man before.

Since the moment they'd met last week he'd filled her every waking thought, and her sleepless ones too. She hadn't been this hung-up over a guy since Willem and that thought alone should've sent her running, doing her usual sabotaging trick before anything could develop.

That's what the frantic alley sex had really been about: showing him she was bold, in-control, and good for a quickie only. That kind of overt come-on turned some guys off; she should know, she'd done it before. But with Logan, her deep-seated desire to push him away hadn't worked. If anything it had intensified her fascination for him so to distract herself over the weekend she'd composed this song.

The notes filled her and burst out of her mouth, pure and melodic. Lyrics filled with wonder and excitement and the newness of hedonistic pleasure. She sang without pause, without fault, and when her hands struck the final chords before drifting into silence, she let the calmness wrap her.

Her eyes had drifted shut at some point and when she opened them, Logan stood before her, leaning against the piano, looking like a model in that slick suit. He stared at her in open-mouthed shock and she crashed back to earth in a big way.

Embarrassment flooded her; her skin prickled, making her want to itch. What had she been thinking, revealing so much of herself to him? If she'd been uncomfortable standing naked in front of him in that room before, it had nothing on the mortification sweeping over her now.

"That was…incredible." He gave a little shake of his head, as if trying to wake up. "You're better than half the pop stars on the charts today."

"Thanks." She resisted the urge to press her palms to her flushed cheeks. "Music is my go-to place."

He nodded, as if he understood, but she could tell by his dazed expression he didn't. "The pub's mine."

She laughed, interlocked her fingers and stretched her arms overhead. "We all have our different escape mechanisms."

When she lowered her arms, he was studying her with a quizzical slash between his brows. "Is that what you needed to do over the weekend? Escape?"

Crap. She'd left herself wide open for that one. He was far too intuitive. She needed to distance herself, pronto.

"It's what I do most weekends. Song-write. Tinker." Feigning indifference, she stood and busied herself dusting off the keys. "I'm really living it up, in case you didn't notice."

"Hey, you're more adventurous than you think." He touched her arm and just like that her synapses short-circuited again and she imagined him touching her all over. "Are we going to talk about the sex?"

Hell no. She squeezed her thighs together to guard against the instant throb elicited by him even saying the damn word.

"What's there to talk about?"

The corners of his kissable mouth quirked. "The fact we like doing it? The fact we're explosive together? The fact I want to keep doing it for however long I'm in Melbourne?"

Of course Logan was transient. She'd found a guy to give her the mind-blowing pleasure she craved and he'd be moving on. Figured.

She should be glad, as any kind of relationship wasn't part of her grand plans. Short-term, sizzling sex with a hot guy was doable. So why the tiny zing of disappointment?

"How long are you staying around?"

"Probably a month max. I don't stay in one place long, preferring to do quotes in person for jobs around the country." His response sounded rote and determination darkened his eyes. "I'm not a long-term guy, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not asking anything of the sort," she said, clipped and frosty, sounding like she actually cared about his gypsy wanderings. She didn't. She liked the sex; she didn't have to like the guy.

Liar, her conscience screamed. She already liked him beyond his obvious talents. She wouldn't be talking to him now if she didn't. She would've dismissed him, using her icy persona she used to great effect when distancing herself from men who wanted more than she was willing to give.

She hated Willem for hurting her to the point she could never let any guy get too close. He'd really done a number on her and she'd been clueless until the end. He'd pursued her and wooed her with a relentlessness that should've alerted her that everything about him, from his five hundred dollar Italian leather shoes to his designer suits, were fake. She'd loved him, she'd depended on him, and he'd abused her trust regardless, leaving her a duped fool.

She never, ever, wanted to feel like that again.

"You sound pissed off," he said.

"I'm not," she snapped, and he chuckled and held up his hands, as if he had nothing to hide.

"All I'm saying is, I'm probably in town for another few weeks, so if you want to keep hanging out that's fine with me."

She snorted, hating the traitorous lurch of her gut that she'd like nothing better. "Is that what men are calling sex these days? Hanging out?" She made inverted commas signs with her fingers. "Because I'm okay with admitting the sex is great and I would like to continue, if that's suitable."

Damn, she sounded so stilted and formal, the exact opposite of how she felt around him when he got 'that look' in his eyes. The one that made her feel wanton and wicked, like a sex goddess capable of anything.

For someone who hadn't had a lot of sex over the years, and what she did have had been lacklustre at best, there was something about Logan that set her alight with a simple glance.

"It's certainly suitable," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Stop mocking me." She huffed out a breath that served to make him laugh.

"You're full of contrasts," he said, tapping her on the nose like a benevolent uncle. "Fire and ice. I like it."

"Most people don't," she said, masking her wistfulness with an abrupt cough. "Okay, so we're dating while you're in town?"

"Yeah."

"Monogamous?

Anger pinched his mouth. "Yeah."

"Hey, just checking." She turned away to stack sheet music before he could see the importance of his answer written all over her face.

She'd had a fling before, with an up and coming indie band's lead roadie. She'd fallen headlong into lust before realising she wasn't the only woman he was plugging his lead into. She wouldn't make the same mistake again.

"I won't jerk you around, Hope." He laid a hand on her shoulder and spun her around. "I'm a stand up guy. I know what I want and I call it. No bullshitting. And while I'm in Melbourne, I want you."

An insane urge to blubber swept over her so she kissed him, plastering herself so hard against him that his butt hit the piano keys in a resounding clash of mismatched notes. He laughed and gently eased away, holding her at arms length.

"While I'm happy to do you every which way wherever and whenever you want, I don't think banging on your precious piano is a good idea."

She smiled, relieved they'd moved past the awkwardness of their conversation. She loved his sense of humour. She didn't laugh often enough and she knew it.

"I'm not very good at this…" she trailed off, feeling like she owed him some semblance of truth for her swiftly changing behaviour but regretting bringing it up the moment he pinned her with that astute stare he did so well. "That's why I back off sometimes. I get spooked and embarrassed and—"

"You're a sensual, empowered woman embracing her sexuality. Don't ever be embarrassed by that." He cupped her chin, so she had to meet his eyes. "You should be proud."

"See, this is what I mean." She shoved his hand away. "I'm no good at this. At you understanding me. At you being kind. Ah, fuck…" She rarely swore and it only served to make her feel further discombobulated. "I'm not a vamp, though you might think so with the commando thing. But that's more about me doing something completely out of character than any great plan to seduce guys. I just feel…out of my depth around you."

His expression softened and she wanted to bawl again. "Do you have any idea how rare it is to have a straight-talking woman articulate exactly what's going on in her head?"

He tapped the side of her temple. "Contrary to popular belief, us guys have no clue as to what goes on in there. We wing it and hope for the best that we don't make complete asses of ourselves."

He winked. "So thanks for letting me know what's going on in your think-tank but seriously, don't overanalyse this. We're two people insanely attracted to each other who are having fun. That's it."

"Okay," she said, nodding, but she couldn't help a wistful sigh escaping her mouth a second before he claimed it.

She liked fun. She needed fun.

But what if for the first time in her well-ordered life she wanted more?