She jabbed the button on her treadmill to jack up the speed. Maybe if her muscles burned enough she’d stop ogling the muscles in Dean’s back as he did free weights on the far side of the gym they had all to themselves.
She watched him push himself through more arm exercises than she’d thought humanly possible—a fifth set? Really?
But when she got off the treadmill and his gaze caught hers in the mirror on the wall, it was dark and unexpectedly intense—not the calm, level-headed man she’d come to know at all.
“What’s wrong?” She grabbed a spray bottle and spritzed the treadmill handles, but kept her attention on him.
He did the same with his weights, but he didn’t answer her.
What’s on your mind, mister?
Then he slung his bag across his body and met her in the middle of the room.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” She didn’t mean it. She wanted to know. Maybe because she was nosy—she was intensely curious about most people’s stories, and Dean intrigued her more than anyone else. Maybe because she wanted to knowhissecrets more specifically.
“You can ask,” he said quietly. The subtle lines of his face seemed deeper than before. “I just can’t answer. I’m not really sure. Family stuff is the short answer.”
“Ah. Well, I know all about big feelings that I don’t understand.” She gave him a rueful smile and tipped her head toward the door. “I’ve got a meet and greet. I need to shower.”
“I’ll do the same and wait for you on the other side.” He didn’t move. His gaze didn’t drop from her face, and as she stood there, his expression softened. “I didn’t mean for you to see that I was upset.”
“That’s…fine.” She frowned. “Of course it’s fine. And if you ever want to talk, I’m a pretty good listener.”
“That probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Why not?”
“Because I’m working for you. I’m supposed to be professional.”
“You are.” A laugh burst out of her. “But you’re human, too. Right?”
His jaw flexed and her laughter grew.
“Oh, Dean.” She patted him on the chest. That flexed, too. The soft cotton clung to his muscles, and she tried not to think about the sweat-slicked skin beneath the fabric. Now was not the time to hit on him. Robots didn’t respond well to inappropriate advances, she’d learned, even though a big part of her wanted to keep trying. “Okay. Shower time.”
She was still giggling as she stepped under the hot water in the change room. Still smiling when she towelled off and carefully applied her moisturizer.
And when she met him in the hallway, Dean still looked tense. She didn’t comment on it again. It wasn’t her place.
Not yet.
Chapter Twelve
THE Raleigh showwas Dean’s first chance to see what a regular concert was like, and it was everything Liana had warned him about: chaotic, epic, and exhausting.
When Liana pulled into herself, doing her quiet thing before the show, he left her in her dressing room and did a quick loop around backstage while the opening act was playing.
Then he settled into a seat where the tour manager promised him he wouldn’t be in the way and just enjoyed Liana on stage again.
Tonight she did a broader range of songs than she had in Washington, and they were all good, but when it came to the last song of the night, “Cravings”, he realized she’d saved the best for last.
It was different than the rest of her set, just as she’d told him, although he could hear the same soul in it as in “River Bed Lullaby.”
But this song was…well, it was sexy as hell.
Her voice purred as she moved across the stage. Slinked, really, and the crowd ate it up.
This was the song Track hadn’t wanted her to put on her album. Dean couldn’t understand why not. It was fantastic.
