Page 12 of A Way Out (Rock Star #2)

Chapter Eleven

T wo mimosas in and Maria was tipsy. Probably not enough to be noticeable to anyone else, but Oz could tell.

Her cheeks were more rosy than usual—which he hated because he really liked the way the color brightened her eyes. And she hadn’t stopped smiling or laughing for at least half an hour. Nothing wrong with that, although normally she was far more serious than this.

He had no issue with serious Maria—unfortunately, none at all—but playful, teasing, flirtatious Maria was a whole different kind of drug, and it was doing things to his system he’d thought he had under control.

He was wrong.

Cash asked for the check and thankfully would not allow Maria to pay, despite her lunging for the little slip of paper like she would have tackled him had there not been a table between them.

Once that was settled, they slid out of the booth and left the restaurant. Oz lifted Riley into his arms, and Maria batted her eyes at him in an exaggerated manner.

“That is so-o-o-o sexy,” she whispered.

Oz glanced at Travis and Cash, who were far enough ahead of them that they probably hadn’t heard. Thank goodness.

“I’m going to hit the head,” Travis called out, pointing at the restrooms.

“We should too,” Maria said. “Use the restroom, I mean. Not hit our heads.” She laughed at her own pretty lame joke.

Since Travis had already disappeared into the men’s room and Cash was leaning against the wall staring down at his phone, Oz asked, “What’s sexy?” It was a dumb question, mostly because he didn’t want to know the answer. But wait, if he knew, he could avoid doing it in the future, right?

“The way you are with Riley,” Maria said. “You’re so sweet. And affectionate. Like you really care about her. You’re such a caring man.” He swore there were little cartoon hearts in her eyes as she smiled at him.

Well, hell. He certainly wasn’t going to stop doing that. Because he did care about the little girl. Plus, she was an adorable kid. Hard not to be nice and affectionate toward her.

“Uh, you want me to stay with the luggage while you two use the ladies’ room?” he asked.

“That would be great.” She was still smiling. She dropped a gigantic purse onto her rolling bag and took Riley from his arms before leaning in and giving him an awkward hug. “I like hugging you. You’re all hard and strong and soft too.”

Christ. She walked away, and he willed a certain part of his body not to get hard. Note: don’t let her have more than one drink at Holly and Sam’s wedding. He wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Cash wandered over. “You going to tap that?”

“Jesus, man. She’s Holly’s sister.”

“So?”

Oz gritted his teeth. “No.”

Damn it.

By the time they’d all used the facilities, their flight was boarding. Not only were they traveling with a small child, but Maria had also sprung for first class, so she, Oz, and Riley were practically first on the plane.

It was such a weird experience. Oz had never flown before, and his very first time was in first class, with a tipsy woman and a fidgety toddler. Although he supposed he could appreciate not having to go all the way to the back of the plane with a young child in tow.

He figured Maria would seat her daughter between them, but nope, she sent Riley scrambling over the seats to the one by the window, then she took the middle, leaving Oz to sit on the aisle.

Right next to Maria.

Before he could process any of this, a flight attendant asked for their drink orders. Maria immediately asked for another mimosa.

“Just water, thanks,” Oz said.

A moment later, they had drinks in hand, and the rest of the passengers began filing onto the plane.

“Cheers,” Maria said with a full-wattage smile.

Oz touched the rim of his little plastic cup to hers, and she tipped back half her mimosa before dropping her hand onto his thigh and giving it a squeeze.

He should remove her hand from his leg, especially before Travis and Cash walked by, heading toward coach, and both men’s gazes zoned in on her appendage.

But he didn’t. He liked the way the warmth of her palm seeped through his jeans and soaked into his soul.

Damn, that would make a solid song lyric. Leaning over, he tugged his notebook out of the backpack he’d stowed under the seat in front of him.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked, blatantly observing as he scribbled on the paper.

“An idea for a song just popped into my head.”

She studied what he wrote. “I like it. Wait. Is that about me?” She snatched her hand away.

“Not exactly,” he hedged. “The action gave me an idea, that’s all.

” He hurried to shove the notebook back into his knapsack, in case she decided to take it from his hands and flip through the previous pages.

He’d written a lot of lyrics in the last few days, and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch for her to come to the conclusion that she had become his muse.

Which wasn’t good, because she was his boss, as she’d pointed out yesterday. Yeah, she’d been teasing, but honestly? It was true. She now held the purse strings for his entire family. He had never given that sort of control to another person before.

It’s for the band , he told himself. Repeatedly.

If he were being honest with himself, he was open to other people helping to get the band up and running.

Since both Sam’s sister and best friend were in Panic Station, it hadn’t been uncomfortable at all when they introduced Demigoddess Revival to their producer and scheduled studio time so Oz’s band could record their first EP.

And Maria was Holly’s sister, so at least there was a family connection. She wasn’t some stranger off the street who was pretending to believe in them for nefarious reasons. Not that he could honestly come up with a disreputable reason why she would offer up so much money with no guaranteed return.

The thing was, though, she was right. He believed in this band even more than she did. They had the talent, they just needed the break. And she was offering it up.

To make matters worse, he was the reason they were in this holding pattern, not growing, when they should already be touring, possibly even be on the bill at a few summer festivals.

It wasn’t fair to the rest of the band, and he should be grateful to Maria for finally pushing him to do what he should have done months ago.

And he was grateful. He had every intention of paying her back once they started pulling in big enough royalty checks. He’d already demanded she keep tabs on every cent she spent on his family.

So, yeah, he was doing this, and Maria was helping him, and he was still edgy, and he knew damn well why.

Because of this freaking attraction he had to her. Hooking up with her was a terrible idea for a multitude of reasons, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Imagining what it would be like to slowly slip her clothing off, one piece at a time. To kiss every bit of flesh as he revealed it.

To worship her breasts with his hands and his tongue.

To suck her nipple into his mouth until she moaned.

To lick that valley between her breasts, working his way down her body, until he knelt before her, his face buried between her thighs.

Christ, his mouth watered just thinking about nestling himself between her legs.

“Are you okay?” Maria asked. “You’re as fidgety as Riley.”

He cupped his hands in his lap to hide his erection and forced his leg to stop bouncing. Clearing his throat, he admitted, “I’ve never flown before.” It was the truth, although it wasn’t the reason for his unease.

“Really?” Her eyes went wide. Just another reason he needed to stop thinking about her naked.

They were from different worlds. She’d probably flown a hundred times in her lifetime; hell, he’d bet three-year-old Riley had been on a plane before. Money made it possible for people to vacation, and someone like Maria would not drive to her vacation destination.

At least now his erection was deflating. But his bad mood was returning, damn it.

One of the attendants announced that the door was closing and they would be preparing for takeoff, and then someone collected their empty cups and reminded them to secure their trays and be sure to buckle up.

A few minutes later, the plane was pulling away from the gate and Oz was craning his neck, leaning over Maria so he could watch out the window, his hand clutching the armrest.

Maria covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. He made the mistake of glancing at her; their faces were so close their noses were practically touching.

He eased his way back to sitting straight in his own seat.

“It’s okay,” she said, her voice breathy. “You can look out the window. I don’t mind.”

He didn’t take her up on her offer.

He also didn’t release her hand, not until they were in the air and the seat belt light went off and Riley asked if she could watch a movie.

“What’s your real name, Oz?” Maria asked out of the blue.

“Huh?”

She flapped her hand, clumsily bumping his chest. “Your real name. Oz is a nickname, right?”

It wasn’t really a big deal. He didn’t deliberately hide his given name from anyone. But he hadn’t told many people, either. Not since he graduated from high school and no longer had classes where, on the first day, the teacher called out, “Enzo Garcia?” and he would respond, “It’s Oz.”

“Is it something really terrible? Like some horrible family name you were saddled with because you’re the third or fourth generation namesake?” She watched him with earnest eyes.

He cracked a smile. “It’s not nearly so dramatic as that.”

“Then why haven’t you told me yet?”

He chuckled. “Because now it’s become a game.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean like I have to tickle the answer out of you? Because I will.”

Okay, he hadn’t meant for it to escalate to tickle warnings, mostly because he didn’t hate the idea of having a tickle war with Maria. But not here, on a plane, with all these people—including her daughter—around. No, wait, a private tickle war was a terrible idea too.

“It’s Enzo,” he finally admitted.

“Enzo. Enzo Garcia.” She said it like she was tasting the words. And liked what she was sampling. Christ, he’d never thought of his given name as sexy before.

“There’s nothing wrong with your name,” she said.

“No, I suppose not. Other than it’s also my father’s name and he ditched us when I was five.” Even at that young age, he had been angry with the man for shirking his responsibilities. Oz had long ago moved on and honestly didn’t hate the name anymore, but nicknames had a way of sticking.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

“I know, but it still sucks.”

“It did at the time, but I’ve moved on. Don’t even think about him anymore, except when someone asks about my given name.” His tone was light, teasing.

She smiled softly.

“Oz is a better rock star name anyway,” she said, giving him a wide, doe-eyed look. If only they weren’t from such different worlds and she wasn’t his boss and he didn’t have so damn many complications in his life.

Luckily, that third mimosa made Maria tired, and she rested her head against his shoulder and slept for the rest of the flight. Riley stayed engrossed in her movie. Luckily, he’d pulled out his notebook before Maria fell asleep, so he was able to pass the time coming up with new music.

The lyrics were taking a decidedly erotic slant.