Alleyes were on him. Every woman in the room got a solid eye canoodle as he strutted right up to where she stood across from Brek. His eye canoodle could likely get a girl pregnant. She sucked in a breath and braced for her turn.
Linx moved less than an arms-length away, and her heart stuttered like he’d asked her to remove her panties. Surely, he wouldn’t recognize her. It’d been years since they partied in the same circles.
She held her breath because she couldn’t take the risk of his scent. Not because she had any special superpowers that involved scented rock stars—that she was aware of—but she knew he smelled amazing. Rock star heaven and concerts and something musky, like oak trees in the rain.
“Do you want me to wait for the drinks, or do you want to send them over when they’re done?” Becca asked Brek, ignoring the fact that Linx was right-freaking-there doing some kind of intense handshake thing with him.
“You should definitely wait,” Linx said, blasting her out of her knickers with that smile of his.
Yes, she often thought in British slang that she’d picked up one summer on a European Dimefront tour. She really took to their language choices. Refined, but still rather raunchy.
Like her. Rather, who she wanted to be.
She slid her gaze up the length of Linx—long and lithe. Not beefcake, but definitely built. He had more of a runner’s build. Muscle and sinew, but not overdone.
He leaned against the bar top, a look of pure happiness on his face. This wasn’t a cat’s-got-his-cream smile. This was a cat’s-about-to-play-with-his-dinner-before-devouring grin.
“Becca, this is Cedric,” Brek said, slinging drinks like a pro.
Cedric?
Right. Sure, yes, she knew that was his given name. Cedric Sebastian, wasn’t it? Last name was Lincoln, and all the original members of the band took a nickname that had an x at the end. Together, they made a triple-x, which they found hysterical, as pointed out in multiple Rolling Stone articles.
“Becca,” Linx—er,Cedric—stretched her name across his tongue and played it like an instrument.
He held his hand out to her.What to do? What to do?
She could touch him. She should touch him. He was expecting her to touch him.
Do something already, Becca.
She was overthinking this way too much. So she gave him a solid handshake.
The way he squeezed her palm was nearly erotic. For no good reason, either. It was just a handshake. He didn’t make any lewd gestures or anything.
Still, the bar seemed to zip to a pinprick and focus on Linx.
“Becca is a friend of Velma’s.” Brek tossed Linx a look like her dad used to give her when he thought she was going to use very poor decision-making skills.
Becca extracted her hand from Linx’s grasp. She noted how he kept the touch for as long as she’d allow.
“I like Velma.” Linx grabbed a pretzel from the bowl on the bar and flipped it into his mouth.
“I do, too.” Brek continued working. “That’s why I’m making it clear to you thatBeccais a friend ofVelma’s. Which means stop looking at her like that.”
“Like what?” Linx held up his hands.
“Like you want to make her Denver,” Brek said with a growl.
What the heck did that mean?
Linx popped another pretzel into his mouth. Somehow, he chewed, smirked, and smoldered, all at the same time.
“She’s not Denver. Denver is Denver. Becca is Becca.”
Brek crossed his arms. “You and I need to discuss what you’re allowed to do and not do while you’re visiting.”
Linx held his palm to his heart and wobbled dramatically. “I am offended.”
