Here With You (15 page)

"How are your new bras?"

She stopped. "You remember me?"

"Of course I remember you. You bought the Elle Macpherson in two colors. How are they?"

She loved them actually. When she wore them, she felt like a grown up, and what the
–sons of anarchy
said bothered her less. "They're good."

Nodding, Nicole walked to a table on the side and started rummaging through a pile
of lace. "I have another set I think you'd like. It comes in a berry color that'll
look fabulous on you."

"I don't know that I need more underwear."

The woman held out the bra and panties. "Underwear isn't about need. It's about want.
Try them on."

Her dad would probably be pissed when he saw the charges on his credit card—she probably
shouldn't buy more.

Rachel stared at the pretty raspberry color. It looked like something her mom would
have worn. Plus she felt powerful when she wore her pretty underthings, like it was
her superhero suit.

Her dad was too wrapped up in his own life to notice anything about her, much less
that she'd made a charge on his card.

"Okay," she said with a smile. Happy with the decision, she took underwear to the
fitting room.

This time, she wasn't surprised when Nicole burst into her room. She turned her back
and waited to be fixed.

"Perfect," the sales lady said as she adjusted the straps. "This style is really great
on you. You have such a sweet figure."

She touched the tiny heart sewn on the strap, feeling so pretty. "I'll get it."

"Awesome." Nicole grinned at her. "I knew I recognized a fellow lingerie girl."

"What's that?"

"My boss always says that there are two types of women, those who love shoes and those
who love lingerie. You're definitely a lingerie girl. I'll let you change."

Rachel waited till the curtain was closed before she changed back into her clothes.
She felt so much better about life, even if she hadn't seen Griffin Chase. Picking
up her bag, she parted the curtain and went out to the front.

Nicole was on the phone. "Grif and I are going out tonight if you want to go with
us," she was saying, her back turned.

Grif?
As in Griffin Chase? Rachel froze and strained to hear.

"We're going to the Boom Boom Room, because a friend of his is playing there, probably
around eleven o'clock." Nicole laughed and then nodded. "Okay, I'll talk to you later,
Susan."

Griffin Chase was going to be at someplace called the Boom Boom Room tonight.

Rachel's breath caught with excitement in her chest. If she went there, she could
give him the lyrics she'd written. And maybe he'd even sing. Maybe if she asked him,
he'd sing to
her
specially. She'd bought a bunch of things from his best friend after all.

Nicole turned around. "Ready?"

"Yeah." She handed over the underwear. "Um, do you have another color, too?"

"I have a slightly different style in emerald." She strode to a dresser on the side
and pulled out the drawer. "Green is this season's black."

Rachel looked at the bra the woman handed her. It looked like something a fairy would
wear, lacy and delicate in a dark jewel color. She touched it. It was the sort of
underwear a bold, unstoppable girl wore. Maybe she'd wear it tonight when she snuck
into the Boom Boom Room. "I'll take it, too."

"I'll ring you up."

As Nicole rang her up, Rachel took out her phone and messaged Aaron.
What are you doing tonight?

Two seconds later the reply came in:
Are you asking me out?

She swallowed nervously and thumbed her screen.
Do you know a place called the Boom Boom Room?

Aaron Hawke: It's on Fillmore at Geary, but it's 21 and over.

Rachel Rosenbaum: Can we sneak in?

Aaron Hawke: Why?

Rachel Rosenbaum: There's a musician I want to see.

Aaron Hawke: Badly enough to sneak in.

Rachel Rosenbaum: Yes.

She waited for what seemed like forever but he didn't reply. Finally, impatience won
out.

Rachel Rosenbaum: Well?

Aaron Hawke: I'll pick you up at 11. Don't wear neon.

Rachel Rosenbaum: I think you're safe on that count.

Aaron Hawke: You can never be too sure.

"Here you go, Rachel." Nicole handed her the bag. "Welcome to the club."

The lingerie club wasn't the only one she was crashing. She took her package and went
home. She had to figure out what to wear.

Her dad knocked on her bedroom door as she was getting ready. "Rachel?"

Her heart jumped into her throat. She froze, her jacket halfway on. "What is it?"

"I want to talk to you. Open the door."

She looked at herself in the mirror. She'd just ringed her eyes in eyeliner, trying
to look older, and she was fully dressed. It wouldn't have been an issue except her
father didn't know she was going out. "Not now, Dad."

"Yes, now."

He was using that
I'll brook no argument from you
tone that meant he wouldn't budge until he spoke with her. Sighing, she kicked off
her shoes as she shrugged out of the coat, smudging off some of the eyeliner. She
threw her robe on her clothes and flung open the door. "Yes?"

He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed across a pastel polo shirt.

Pastel.

She pointed at his shirt. "What are you wearing?"

He frowned at her face. "What's that on your face?"

"Nothing." She rubbed under her eyes. "I was trying on makeup."

For some reason, he looked affronted. "You don't need makeup, Rachel. You're already
pretty."

He picked
now
to act interested? "That's what you came here to say to me?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I need to talk to you."

"I'll clean up my room tomorrow," she preempted, glancing at the time. Aaron was going
to be here any minute, and she didn't want her dad to find out. Ever since the drunken
party episode that landed them in San Francisco, she'd been on lockdown.

"That's not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to talk about you and me."

Great. Just what she needed.
Not.

"This is important." He stood straight and gestured to her room. "Can I come in?"

No way. "I'm kind of tired, Dad."

"Rachel, be a team player."

She hated when he talked corporate to her. She crossed her arms. "You have to be part
of a team to be a team player."

He nodded. "I deserved that, but that doesn't mean you're getting out of this talk."

She really couldn't deal with this now. "Fine, but tomorrow."

"Tomorrow morning, before school." He pointed at her. "Don't think you can avoid me.
I'm serious, Rachel."

"Okay." She rolled her eyes. "I heard you."

He rolled his eyes, too, muttering something about teenagers as he left.

Closing the door, she pressed her ear to it, listening to make sure her dad left.
When she couldn't hear his footsteps, she quickly reapplied her makeup before Aaron
arrived.

Did she look old enough? Rachel frowned at herself in the mirror and then decided
to add a little more eyeliner. She wore all black, figuring it'd help her blend into
the background, but really she mostly only had black anyway.

Griffin Chase wasn't going to notice her in black.

She'd make him notice her, she vowed silently. Not in a romantic way but because she
wanted him to have what she'd written. She wasn't an idiot—she knew she was too young
for Griffin Chase to like in any way other than just friendly. Unless he were into
the Lolita thing, and based on his dating history she doubted that.

Plus, she had a feeling Nicole was into him. Rachel could totally see him digging
on the lingerie lady. She was hot, with her skirts and boots.

Maybe one day Rachel would be hot like Nicole. She wondered what Aaron thought.

Her phone buzzed with a text. Aaron was here.

Nervous and excited, Rachel snuck downstairs, checking in her coat pocket to make
sure her lyrics was still in there. She sighed when she felt the folded page.

At the top of the stairs, she heard voices from her dad's room. She paused, listening
but not understanding what he was saying because he spoke so softly.

Who was he talking to? She frowned as her dad laughed, low and intimate.

Her phone buzzed again, and she hurried down the stairs and outside.

A black car waited at the curb. The car's door opened, and Aaron stuck his head out.
"Your carriage, Cinderella."

Glancing back to make sure her dad hadn't seen her, she hurried to the car. "This
is your dad's?"

"Uber," he said, scooting over to make room for her. "It's a driver service app."

"Spiffy." She nodded at the driver as she closed the door.

Aaron gave the driver instructions, and the car slowly pulled away. He turned to her.
"Are you ready to live on the wild side?"

His face was so close to hers in the darkness that her breath caught. She looked into
his eyes and swallowed thickly, only able to nod.

"Good." He grinned. "I've got a plan."

He had the driver drop them off around the corner and took her around the back of
the club. There was a door open with a man guarding it. From inside, music poured
onto the street, the energetic beat not helping her nerves.

"Wait." Aaron tugged her against the building, watching the doorway.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, having doubts. Apparently she wasn't cut
out for a life of crime.

"Now." Aaron pushed her toward the door. "Act natural."

Right. She rushed inside, noticing that the man who'd been guarding it was gone. Aaron
tugged her down the short hall and right into the thong of people on the dance floor.

It was hot and stuffy, the air smelling like pot. She blinked, not sure what to think
about that. She'd only been around pot once, at that party that changed her entire
life.

Focus, she told herself. Taking her coat off, she craned her head to look for Griffin
Chase. It was dark, and the bar went all the way back and was packed with people.
She stood on her tiptoes. She couldn't see anyone.

"This is great," Aaron said close to her ear. "I didn't know you liked Eric McFadden
and his band."

She didn't even know who they were. She paused in her search to listen to the music.
Actually, they
were
pretty good. She felt her feet start to tap to the music.

No, she needed to focus. She knew Griffin Chase was going to be here.

"Are you looking for someone?" Aaron asked, his breath tickling her ear.

She was going to deny it, but then she saw the interested way he looked at her, and
she blurted, "Yes."

His brow furrowed. "Who?"

"Griffin Chase." She sighed. "I know you think I'm crazy, but he's going to be here
tonight and I have this poem to give him."

Rachel couldn't tell what Aaron was thinking, but then he nodded and said, "Then let's
look around."

She blew out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Smiling, she let him take
her hand and walk her through the club.

Griffin wasn't there.

She bit her lip, disappointed.

Aaron squeezed her hand. "If he shows up, we'll see him. Let's dance and we'll keep
an eye out for him."

Feeling hopeful, she smiled and nodded. They wedged their way onto the dance floor.
He found an open pocket for them, faced her, and began to dance.

She'd never known a guy who'd willingly dance. She watched him, dumbfounded. She'd
never danced with anyone but her mom. Her mom used to turn up the music and then they'd
dance in the kitchen, crazy and uninhibited.

She hadn't danced since her mom died.

It felt good, she realized suddenly. She wondered if she should feel bad, but she
could almost feel her mom smiling down at her, encouraging her to let herself be free.

So she did—she threw her arms in the air and let it loose, the way she used to with
her mom.

Aaron whistled loudly and joined in, dancing every bit as enthusiastically as she
was. She laughed when he did what he called the sprinkler, and she replied with a
chicken dance.

"Let's not stop until the band stops," she yelled at him over the music.

He twirled her and then moved her into a dip. "I'll dance with you until you turn
into a pumpkin, Cinderella."

The band only took a short break, playing until two in the morning. Sweaty but exhilarated,
they reluctantly stopped, going outside for fresh air.

Aaron sat on the sidewalk. "I'll call an Uber."

She sat down next to him, feeling the waves of heat coming off him. She liked it and
leaned closer even though she was really sweaty and gross.

"We didn't find Griffin Chase," Aaron said suddenly, looking at her.

Shrugging, she smiled. "It was still fun."

"Maybe we could do it again sometime," he asked carefully, his hand creeping closer
to hers.

She froze. Was he going to hold her hand? She wiped it on her jeans, just in case.

But then the car arrived. Disappointed, not wanting the night to end, she reluctantly
got in.

They didn't talk for the first few blocks, but then Aaron turned to her. "You've got
moves. I didn't know, Rosenbaum."

His face was so close she was afraid to breathe. "You're the one with moves."

"Most people aren't lucky enough to witness them," he said modestly. He took her hand.
"You're part of a privileged few."

The feel of his palm against hers robbed her of her thoughts. It was a lot of sensation,
but at the same time she wanted more, even though she didn't know what that was.

He leaned toward her, and her body listed toward his. Was he going to kiss her?

Her breath caught in her throat, and she held it nervously. She'd never kissed anyone
—
not really, and definitely not like Aaron.