Sorry I Kissed You by Natalie Keller Reinert

Author:Natalie Keller Reinert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Rock Star
Publisher: Natalie Reinert
Published: 2023-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

I TUG AT my sky-blue blouse as the valet approaches Everett’s side of the car. It’s not velour, but we’re definitely working with a man-made fabric here. And, since Everett saw me walk out of the bedroom wearing it and declared the top matched my eyes, I consider it a pretty nice choice for our night out at Palm Springs’ most historic restaurant. The cut looks nice with jeans, but I’m pretty sure there’s a dress code at Melvyn’s, despite what Everett says about looking rock-star trashy, so I opt for a short black skirt instead. Now, I just have to avoid tugging at it all night; I’ve never been great with anything that stops above the knee, and this sucker only goes halfway down my thigh.

I’ve left my hair just as Everett asked; the tangle of waves concerns me a little, but he gave me such a lecherous look out on the pool deck that I have a sneaking suspicion I look like a mermaid goddess.

Beside me, Everett stretches his legs out of the car, and I can’t help but watch his muscles flex beneath his neat, well-cut slacks. He wanted to wear jeans, but I convinced him that was a bad idea.

“Keys, sir?” The valet looks hopeful that Everett will like him. The staff will know the reservation list ahead of time at a place like this, and this kid recognizes Everett Torby. But he doesn’t gush—I’m sure that’s against the rules—and instead settles for a look of worship as Everett hands off the keys and opens the car door for me. The kid looks at me carefully, wondering if he should recognize me.

Nope, not yet, kiddo.

But soon.

We have time for a drink at the bar, so we let the hostess lead us into the lounge, which is dark and understated—from what I can see in the low light, which leaves me blinking after the blazing late evening sun outside.

Everett leans against the bar while I slip onto a stool. “There are people here wearing shorts,” he informs me.

“Well, you look nice,” I say, unrepentant. I pick up the cocktail menu and try not to pass out from the sticker shock. Twenty bucks for a martini! Thank god the record labels are covering this. I’m a little too unemployed to cope with the numbers, so I put it down again. Everett is still moping about his trousers. I shake my head at him. “How was I supposed to know that the dress code in Palm Springs allows shorts?”

“My poor legs are suffocating in a prison of khaki.”

“Grow up,” I laugh, smacking his arm lightly.

He gives me a hound-dog look. “Everyone here could be admiring my calves, you know.”

“They can’t see them,” I say mercilessly. “It’s too dark.” And anyway, they’re just for me.

Everett orders us a pair of the twenty-dollar martinis and two prawn cocktails to keep us from staggering to our dinner table later on. I’m starving and the starter sounds delicious, although a part of

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