Linden: Rocking Pleasure: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 3) (12 page)

“
I play the guitar, and sometimes I sing, too, but I probably can’t compete with you.” I smile.

“
Do you want to try?” He grins back.

“
I’d rather not. I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“
I don’t think that could happen. What do I have to do to make you sing for me?”

“
I don’t sing for other people. Sorry, Linden.”

“
Aw, come on, Thalia. I’m not going to tell anyone. Please?”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to sing.”

“
Okay. Too bad, though.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Every time I’m supposed to sing in front of people, I just … can’t do it. I usually sing in the shower or when I’m alone in my room.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You don’t have to justify yourself.”

“
I wasn’t trying to.”

“
Yes, you just did.”

I make a dismissive gesture and grin. “I’ll let you win. I get enough of these arguments with my best friends, thank you very much.”

“
The girl with you at the hospital—was that your best friend?”

I nod. “That was Hailey. She’s one of them anyway.”

“
And who’s the other?”

“
Camille. We used to live together, the three of us, before they both moved in with their boyfriends. It was nice sharing a place with them because we all grew up in the same town.”

“
And where was that?” Linden asks.

“
Austin. Cami’s mother owns a farm there, Hailey’s parents have a store, and my dad has his own company.”

“
What kind of company?”

“
It’s an advertising firm.”

Linden cocks his head to one side. “And why are you studying architecture then?”

“
I don’t want to be dependent on my dad’s connections. I have older siblings that can inherit the company, and I want to build a life of my own.”

“
I guess I should have gone to college, too,” he says pensively.

“
I think everyone needs to decide that for themselves. And if you can make a living from music, then that’s awesome. Why would you do something else?”

“
I don’t know if I’ll still be able to make a living from it in twenty years, you know?” he explains softly.

“
Yeah, then maybe you should think of a plan B … unless your band scores some really huge hits. That might get you enough dough for the rest of your lives. I mean, I have no idea how much you can make as a musician, but when I look at Draven, I think he’s doing the right thing.”

“
Who’s Draven?” he asks.

“
My current roommate. He and a few of his fellow students have a band. They just love what they’re doing, I think. He has a gig tonight, and I wanted to see it, but you asked me out first, so I’m gonna wait for the next one to see them play.”

“
I’d like to hear them. When’s the gig?”

“
I’m not sure.”

“
Could you call him?”

I nod, a little puzzled by his urging.

“
Then ask him, and we’ll go.”

“
Do you really want to be in a crammed club tonight? I mean, you were only discharged yesterday.” Shouldn’t he take it slow?

“
The amnesia was a result of shock, and I don’t need my hand to listen to a band,” Linden says with a smile. “I can use the other to hold a drink, so I should be fine. Go ahead, call him.”

“
Okay.” I take my phone from my purse and dial Draven’s number.

“
Don’t tell me he’s a pervert and you want me to rescue you,” Draven says by way of a greeting.

I suppress a giggle. “No, that’s not why I’m calling. I wanted to ask you when your gig starts.”

“
Eleven. Why?”

“
Because I’m coming to see you,” I reply, amused by his obvious bafflement.

“
I thought you were on a dinner date … ”.

“
I’m bringing him along. So eleven at Dizzles?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Awesome. See you there.”

“
Bye.” Draven hangs up, and I look at Linden. “The gig starts at eleven. That means we still have about two hours before we should head out.”

“
Great, so we still have time to have dinner, which should be ready now anyway. Grab your glass and follow me.”

Taking my glass, I rise and follow Linden through the house as he says, “I hope Mrs. Atkins has everything ready.”

A middle-aged woman is waiting in the kitchen. “Mr. Priest, I was just about to call you,” she says.

“
We were faster I guess. May I introduce you to Miss Leroux?”

The woman offers me a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Miss Leroux.”

“
Nice to meet you, too.” Wow, he has actual servants. That isn’t something I’d have expected from a guy my age.

“
The table is set, Mr. Priest,” Mrs. Atkins says.

“
In the dining room?”

“
Yes, everything is the way you wanted it.”

“
Thank you, Mrs. Atkins.” Linden walks through the kitchen, and I follow him through an open archway.

The dining room is completely modern, and the walls are full of framed paintings. “Did you paint all of these, too?” I ask curiously.

“
Yeah. My mother had them hung in here,” he answers calmly, waiting behind my chair until I’m seated.

“
Thank you, Linden.”

He sits down next to me, at the head of the table, and looks at me again. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I decided on pasta Alfredo. Is that okay?”

I nod, smiling. “Absolutely. I just hope I don’t mess up my dress with this sauce.”

“
Should we get you a bib?”

I laugh out loud. “No, thanks. I think I can just about manage.”

***

By the time Mrs. Atkins clears the table, we’re back to our first conversation topic: music.

“
No way!” he blurts out when I tell him that I once went to a casting call for
American Idol
.

“
Yep.” I giggle. “But it was hard, and I was anxious, so I totally embarrassed myself. No wonder I didn’t get called back.”

“
When was that?”

“
Oh, a few years ago.”

“
Did they show your audition on TV?”

“
Fortunately, they didn’t. And don’t waste your time checking the internet, because my dad made sure the videos I was in were taken down.”

“
Aw, crap! I would have loved to see that. And hear you, of course.”

“
You would have been scarred for life,” I joke.

“
I don’t believe that for a second, but you don’t want to prove it to me.” Linden grins, looking a little mischievous. It suits him.

“
Here’s a suggestion,” I say.

He cocks his head to one side and looks at me with eager anticipation. “Yes?”

“
If we have another date, I’ll sing for you, but only if you promise not to laugh or judge my voice.”

“
Deal!” Linden holds out his hand, and I shake it, grinning. Because I’m convinced this will be our first and
only
date. Wait, did I say date? Uh-oh. “But you have to promise me we will have another date,” he adds. Uh-oh indeed.

“
If your schedule allows it.” I shrug.

“
It’s pretty empty right now since the doctor prescribed rest.”

“
Then we shouldn’t go to Draven’s gig.”

“
Yes, we should. I’d really like to hear him.”

I sigh and shake my head. “Men! You’re all insane, you know that? Instead of taking that much needed rest, you want to go out and party.”

Linden laughs and strokes my hand, which makes me realize he hasn’t let go yet. “I’m young, and I enjoy the life I have. Is that so bad?”

“
No. Just a little suicidal,” I counter with a smirk.

“
Nonsense. I’m not bedridden. I was in the hospital for a few days, and now I want to have some fun. This is the first time in over a year that I have some time to myself, even if it is a forced break.”

I lean back and study him. Linden is really handsome. His blond hair is styled in an upward sweep. I don’t want to know how much wax was necessary to achieve that effect. His turquoise eyes shine when he talks, and his lips have that sensual curve that is almost feminine. My gaze is lured back to those lips repeatedly. I like to listen to him, because his voice is like velvet.

“
So is pop music really your heart’s desire, or did the record company tell you that’s what you needed to do to become famous?” I suddenly blurt out.

He sighs and leans back as well. “The latter, I’m afraid,” he confides. “We used to play rock, but our manager told us we’d get further if we started out with catchy pop songs. He said all the teen girls would fall in love with us, and later they would still like us even if we slowly changed our style. Sometimes I think it’s a trap.”

“
So you aren’t comfortable with that?” I probe.

“
Not really, no. But my friends outvoted me, so I hopped on the bandwagon, you might say.”

“
Craptastic.”

Linden nods. “You might say that, too. But we’ll get back to our roots someday.” He takes another sip of his Coke. “Am I mistaken, or was your hair a lot shorter when we met?” he suddenly asks.

“
You’re not mistaken. I got extensions,” I admit.

“
The long hair suits you.”

“
Thanks.”

He glances at his watch and then looks at me again. “If we want to be at the club on time, we need to get going soon.”

“
Okay.” I rise and grab my handbag. “Are you going to drive, or do you want everyone to see you coming in that big fat limo?”

“
I’m driving … no, wait. My hand … You’re driving. My car is in the garage.”

“
Cool.”

We leave the dining room, and I follow Linden out to the massive garage. Two sports cars and an old Jeep are parked there. Although I’d have bet Linden would choose one of his fancy cars, he pats the roof of the Jeep lovingly. “My very first car,” he says proudly.

“
Are we taking that?” I ask with a smile.

“
Yes.” He throws me the keys, and I catch them. Then I walk around to the driver’s side and get in behind the wheel. Linden sits in the passenger seat. “Oh, I forgot to mention: This isn’t an automatic.”

“
I can drive a stick shift.” I smirk, knowing that most guys think all women are barely able to drive an automatic.

“
Oh. Great. I’ve never met a woman who can handle a stick shift.”

“
You just haven’t met the right women,” I counter quickly and start the engine.

The Jeep practically shoots out of the garage. Fortunately, the automatic door was already open, otherwise I totally would have crashed into it.

“
Sweet Jesus. I’m really not suicidal, I swear.” Linden laughs and holds on to the door handle.

“
Enjoy the life you have! Enjoy the thrill of life!” I belt out, entering the street with screeching tires. Other drivers are honking behind me, but I don’t care.

“
That’s not the thrill of life—that’s adrenaline overkill!” he yells, just as I bring the Jeep to an abrupt stop at an intersection.

“
Okay. I’ll go more slowly from now on,” I promise.

“
Thank you,” he pants.

The street ahead is clear, so I make a left turn. I try to stay within the speed limit, so Linden won’t have a heart attack. He’s breathing more evenly again, which is a relief. Maybe he just isn’t very tough. I can live with that … right? I sure don’t like a sissy boy, but I saw the doctor take care of his injured hand, and he didn’t even flinch. Sedated, maybe?

“
Your driving style reminds me a lot of Alexis’s. He races through town like he’s king of the road,” Linden comments dryly.

“
Don’t we want to reach our destination quickly?”

He chuckles. “Not if that means we might end up wrapped around a lamp post or something.”

“
We won’t. I mean, okay, I’m a fast driver, but I only pull stunts like that when the road is clear,” I explain with a soothing smile.

Linden nods and then looks at me. “Would be great if you could keep your eyes on the street from now on.” He points at the windshield.

I do as he says, focusing on the road ahead. “Don’t you trust me?”

“
I don’t know you enough for that,” he says.

“
Oh, but you got in my car in the middle of the night,” I tease.

He laughs softly. “Yeah, but this time it’s my car.”

“
Lame repartee, Mr. Priest. I’m sure you could do better.”

“
Oh, I could, Miss Leroux, but I don’t feel like it right now.”

“
That’s a pity, Mr. Priest.” I giggle.

“
I don’t quite agree, Miss Leroux, but I’d prefer it if we could skip the
Fifty Shades of Grey
talk. I feel dumb.” He laughs.

I laugh with him. “I’ve never read the books, but it’s interesting that you have.”

“
I haven’t. Trish read them, and from time to time she read me some passages.”