Roz barely noticed her brother sitting at the kitchen table talking with her mother and father as she entered the room. Although, it really wasn’t that unusual for her brother to show up at their parents’ place at all hours of the day and night. Well, according to what her mother said when they talked on the phone.
She partly blamed it on the fact Luca was a momma’s boy like nobody knew, but also on the fact her brother had just recently moved out. He wasn’t used to not having his parents around, and he couldn’t cook to save his life. He’d starve if it wasn’t for their mother and drive-thrus.
None of that really mattered, though. Her mind was on someone else entirely as she prepped a tea, and scrolled through the last couple of messages on her phone from Naz.
Be there by nine, his last text said.
“Roz, are you going to eat breakfast with us, or keep staring at your phone?” Katya asked.
She glanced up from her phone, and gave her mother an apologetic smile. “I’m heading out for breakfast, actually.”
Roz didn’t miss the way her mother and father passed a look between one another. Katya only smiled in her soft way, while Zeke’s gaze narrowed in on his daughter.
“Is that so?”
She shrugged. “Naz asked. I said yes.”
She didn’t miss the tic in her father’s jaw at that statement. “You didn’t think to ask me if that would be okay, or …?”
Roz laughed, and even Luca passed their father a look for that one. “Since when have you ever cared if I went out with someone for a date?”
“So, that is what it is, then.”
“What?”
“A date,” her father clarified.
“Zeke,” Katya murmured. “Relax. It’s breakfast.”
“Today, Katya. Today, it is breakfast. Tomorrow it could be—”
“Whatever he asks me to do, if I want to do it,” Roz interjected. “That’s kind of how dating works, Daddy.”
Zeke made a noise under his breath, but it was only the look his wife gave him that made her father turn to stare out the window in silence. Still, it kind of irked Roz a bit that her father was choosing to be difficult about something like dating now. That was new. Maybe because it was Naz?
She didn’t know.
“Aren’t you supposed to be practicing?” her brother asked. “Pretty sure I heard you on the phone this morning with … what’s his face.”
Roz rolled her eyes. “Kyle.”
“That guy—yeah.” Luca turned in his seat to look at her. “Isn’t that what you told him you were doing all morning? Practicing.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business, Luca? God knows you don’t need to be in mine.”
Ouch.
She couldn’t even try to hide the sharpness in her tone. No one at the table missed it, either, if the way they all turned to look at her was any indication.
“I told him what he wanted to hear,” Roz said, refusing to meet any of their gazes, “because he won’t leave me alone otherwise. I will practice when I get home. What difference does it make?”
Her brother shrugged. “Didn’t say it made a difference. I just asked a question.”
Mmhmm.
She believed that about as much as she believed the sky was fucking purple. She had no desire to call her brother out on his bullshit, and get in a verbal sparring match first thing in the morning, though, so she dropped it instead.
“You do need to get your focus on track,” her mother said.
“Agreed,” her father grumbled.
Roz shook her head. “I am on track.”
That was a lie.
Yeah, her focus was somewhere. But it certainly was not on the piano, or properly finishing the piece for the audition.
No doubt, it hadn’t escaped her parents’ notice. How could it when up until this point, nearly all of Roz’s life had been dedicated to being the world’s best pianist. She hadn’t even bothered with making friends because friends meant time away from music, and practice, and everything.
“Sure,” her mother said softly. “Just do what you need to do, yes? Whatever is best for you, sweetheart. We’re going to support you no matter what. That’s what we’re here for. Isn’t that right, Zeke?”
Katya passed her husband a look, and then Roz’s father sighed with a nod.
“That’s always been the case,” her father said. “Whatever you need, Roz. You know that.”
“Okay, so this morning … I need to go to breakfast without being made to feel guilty that I am having a life that doesn’t involve me sitting on a piano bench.”
There, she said it.
Let them make of it what they wanted.
Zeke grunted under his breath as something outside the window caught his attention. At the same time her phone buzzed, and a horn beeped outside, her father said, “Have a good breakfast, Roz.”
Her phone said the same thing the beep of the horn essentially did, too. Naz was there, and waiting.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Zeke smiled. “Looks like Naz is here.”
“And for once,” Luca muttered, digging into his plate again, “he’s not here for me.”
“Okay,” Roz drawled, giving her brother a glare that he couldn’t even see, “that’s enough of this. I’ll see you all later.”
“Be safe,” her father called at her back.
“Zeke!”
“What, Katya?”
“Knock it off.”
Her father’s resounding grumble echoed behind Roz, but she just grinned and kept on walking. Grabbing her bag, a light jacket, and slipping on a pair of ballet flats at the door, she quickly exited the house.
And there he was.
Dark slacks.
White dress shirt.
Leather jacket.
And leaning against a BMW F 800 like the sportsbike was a fucking accessory on his arm or something. The black bike was all sleek lines, and hard curves. A lot like the man resting next to it with a lazy smile, and holding a helmet in both hands.
“Good, you wore jeans,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you to change.”
Roz was stuck between eyeing the beautiful bike, or the equally sexy man. Maybe this was why her father had looked out the window like he wanted to kill someone. It was very possible.
“Ever been on a bike?” Naz asked.
Roz shook her head. “Not even once.”
“That’s a fucking shame, girl.”
“If I fell, my hands …”
Naz’s easy smile slipped. “You could hurt your hands if you tripped over your own two feet getting out of bed in the morning, Roz.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I can grab Luca’s car, and trade my bike with him for the day, if you want.” He gestured at her brother’s Camaro parked beside their father’s Lexus. “He’s dying to try this baby out, so he won’t mind.”
Roz didn’t even have to think about it. “No way.”
Naz’s brilliant, sinful smirk was back in an instant. “Yeah?”
Why not?
“No stunts,” she warned.
With a wink, Naz saluted her with two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“You’re far from a boy scout, Naz.”
“But I’m really good at pretending to be one.”
Roz laughed as she crossed the driveway, and took the helmet he offered in her own hands. “That’s what counts, isn’t it?”
Instead of answering, Naz leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her mouth. Quick, and gentle, it was over before it even began. And yet, that simple, fast kiss lit up a whole fire inside her body.
It made her breath quicken, and her heart race like nothing else.
“Morning,” he said, still staying close enough that the dark brown of his eyes was the only thing she could see. “Since, you know, I didn’t get to tell you that when you first came out.”
Roz wet her lips, and grinned. “Morning to you, too.”
“Don’t be scared of the bike, yeah?” He shrugged in that way of his that spoke of easy confidence and a laid-back demeanor. All things Naz radiated, she thought. “Never be scared of the bike, Roz. Not while I’m driving it, anyway.”
“I’m not scared of the bike.”
“Good.”
He kissed her again, then, but it wasn’t fast, gentle, or anything like the first. It was hard, deep, and lingering. His hand came up to grab the back of her neck to pull her closer, and all she could do was take him in. She could only give in to the sweep of his tongue demanding she open up for him, and lose herself in the way he practically handed over his soul when he kissed her.
He was like Novocain to her senses. Numbing, and wonderful. He lit her up like fireworks, and everything else was nothing more than background noise. A buzz—numbing.
She wasn’t scared of the bike.
The man on it, though …
Well, he terrified her.
But in a really good way.