Home > Kiro's Emily (Rosemary Beach #9.5)(9)

Kiro's Emily (Rosemary Beach #9.5)(9)
Author: Abbi Glines

She was silent for a moment as she stared at me. I held my breath.

“Did you just offer me a job to move to L.A. and manage your house and get paid two hundred thousand dollars a year?” she asked.

“Yeah, I did.” I had paid the last house manager seventy-five thousand. But Emily didn’t have to know that.

She rubbed her eyes and muttered, “I think I’m still asleep. Crap.”

I couldn’t keep from laughing as I pulled her hands away from her eyes. “Told you once, babe, this isn’t a dream. It’s real, and I’m here. Now I want you to tell me, ‘Yes, Kiro, I accept the job offer.’ ”

She sat there and stared at me with her mouth slightly open. Sticking my tongue in there was real damn tempting.

“I . . . but . . . school starts in the fall. If I leave my job now, I won’t have it when I come back, and I need it to—”

“We have colleges in L.A. This job doesn’t end in the fall. We don’t have a tour scheduled until next summer. We’ve got an album to record this year, but first we have to write the damn songs. I need you there.” I had come prepared for anything she threw at me. I was getting this. I wanted Emily with me.

“But . . . OK, let me think,” she said, looking away as she frowned.

“I can get you enrolled in classes for the fall. That will be a part of the work perks, too. College tuition paid.”

“I have college loans. I don’t need—”

“I’ll pay those off.” I rushed, cutting her off.

Emily put her hand on my chest and let out a laugh. “Stop. I’m trying to work this out in my head. I don’t expect you to pay me all that money and cover my college expenses. Even if I lose my college loans, I’ll be making enough money to pay my tuition, I think. How much do colleges cost out there?”

Didn’t know or fucking care. “It’s paid. Doesn’t matter.”

Her frown was adorable. “Kiro.”

“Emily,” I replied, just as seriously.

Then she laughed and laid her head on my chest. God that felt amazing. I wrapped my arms around her and held her there, not wanting to let go. Fucking ever. “Just tell me yes. I can do this all night,” I told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“My mother will flip out,” she said, lifting her head to look up at me again. “She will have a fit. A bad one.”

“You’re twenty years old,” I reminded her. I would deal with her momma, too, if I had to.

She sighed and nodded. “I know. But she’s not going to like this. She knows I talk to you. I told her. But she won’t be OK with me living in L.A. with . . . a rock band.”

Probably one of the reasons my Emily was so damn sweet and innocent. I couldn’t dislike her momma. She’d raised my angel. “If I need to, I’ll talk to her. I swear, you’ll be safe. A hell of a lot safer than you are in this place. No one will touch you. I swear. I’d kill ’em, and they know it.”

“If I point out that I have a lease on this apartment and that my things are here and I have nowhere to take them, you’re going to have an answer for that, aren’t you?” she asked, looking like she was ready to cave in.

“I’ll pay off the lease, and we will put your furniture in storage.”

She studied me a moment, and then a smile slowly spread across her lips. “I can’t believe I am saying this . . . but yes. I accept.”

Fuck, yes!

One week later

Emily

Life with Slacker Demon was like a movie. I hadn’t thought about what it would look or feel like, since I had been so busy taking care of things in the last week. I had let Will know I was resigning, which hadn’t gone well. Then my mother had begged me not to go. In the end, she had given in and told me that home would always be there when I needed it.

Packing my things for storage and shipping what I needed to Los Angeles had consumed every moment after. Not once had I stopped to think about what I had said yes to. Now, standing in a mansion with every luxury known to man, I realized my life had just taken a massive turn.

I worked for Slacker Demon. It was my job to make sure this house was taken care of and everyone had all they needed. Talk about a huge addition to my résumé. Wow.

Dean walked into the room, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants with skulls all over them. “Well, lookie who finally arrived,” he drawled.

“Did Emily’s stuff get here?” Kiro asked, carrying the one duffel bag that I had brought with me on the plane.

Dean’s gaze went from Kiro to the piece of luggage in his hand. Then his eyebrows shot up as his gaze swung back to his friend. He was surprised about something, clearly.

“Emily’s stuff. Did it fucking get here?” Kiro asked in a clipped tone.

Dean muttered something, then nodded his head to the left. “Yeah. I had it all sent to the room Viv used.”

“That’s not where I fucking wanted it,” Kiro snarled.

“Can’t read your damn mind,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes. He sauntered over to the nearest sofa and sank down onto it.

“Follow me,” Kiro said, his tone much different now. He was softer with me. “I’ll show you your room, and then I’ll have your things moved in there.”

“OK,” I said, wondering if I should just go where Dean wanted me to be. He lived here, too, and I didn’t want to make him angry.

“Which room you giving her?” Dean asked.

“The white one,” Kiro replied.

Dean let out a sigh. “Shit,” he muttered.

“If Dean wants to leave that room available, I can use the room he had my things sent to.”

Kiro stopped walking and looked back at me. “Dean lives in the left wing of this house. The right wing is mine. He doesn’t get to decide who lives in any of my rooms.”

Oh. Then why did he seem upset about it?

Dean hadn’t asked me to work for him. Just Kiro. But I would be working for Dean, too. In his house. What if he didn’t want me here? Why hadn’t I thought of that?

Kiro led me up a grand staircase, the kind I’d only seen in movies. “The place is big, but I’ll give you a tour. If you get lost, just take a bunch of right turns, and you’ll end up back here.” He glanced back at me with a sexy little smirk on his face.

“Right turns, got it,” I said. I didn’t let my gaze linger on him. I worked hard to be a good friend to him. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with my little infatuation.

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