Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Sandstone. Um…I’m not sure. We’ll talk later. Break a leg. But not literally.”
Justin snorted at my breezy tone and gave me a thumbs-up before following Johnny and Tegan to the edge of the stage just behind the curtain. I brushed my clammy palms on my khakis and flashed an irritated look at Ky.
“This is your fault.”
“What’s my fault?” he asked, reaching for his bass.
“Everything feels weird now. Just…get your damn physical,” I grumbled, gesturing at my watch meaningfully.
“I’ll do it Monday.” Ky started toward the band, then turned back to me, pausing when we stood leather boot to loafer. “You know, this doesn’t have to be weird, Char. It was a friendly kiss. No biggie.”
I narrowed my eyes and gave him my best death glare. “Sure thing, buddy. Except we’re not friends. I don’t like you.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Fine. I don’t like you more,” he taunted with a half smile.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
I pointed at the stage. “You should go.”
“No, you should go,” he teased. He held up his hands in surrender and flashed a lazy, sexy-as-fuck grin when I chuckled. “I’m going. Hey, Char? Come here.”
I moved toward him unthinking, casting a quick glance from my watch to the rest of the band deep in conversation at the far end of the narrow room. If the club had been empty, we would have been able to hear them and vice versa. But the thick velvet curtain didn’t cut the noise level, and Zero was playing to a full house tonight. Three minutes to go.
“What is it?”
“Kiss me. It’s your turn.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. Twice. “What are you—are you fucking with me?”
“No, I’m serious. Do it, so we can go back to normal. I hate being ignored.”
“I haven’t ignored you. I’m busy.”
“Bullshit. You’re ignoring me. At first I thought it was a good plan, but it’s not working. We need to reset the balance. Kiss me, so we can forget about it and move on.”
I swallowed hard. “You’re kidding.”
He licked his lips and let out a low groan before pulling me into the corner, just out of sight. “I’m not kidding. I’m a temperamental artist type, and you’re messing with my mojo. If I go out there and suck, it’s on you.”
“Uh…”
Okay. Rarely…as in never, had I been propositioned for a chaste kiss to reset the balance. It was a bad idea…so of course, I stood on my toes and pecked his cheek.
Ky turned his head and captured my mouth as he pinned me to the wall. He tilted his pelvis, rubbing my obviously excited dick with just enough friction to make me forget my name. Then he sucked my lower lip between his teeth with a low growl and stepped aside.
“That should do it,” he whispered, eyeing my mouth hungrily before meeting my gaze. “See you after the show, Char.”
I didn’t move for a long moment. Okay, we were even. This wouldn’t happen again. We’d act normal around each other tonight and by Monday, he’d go back to bugging the hell out of me…just because.
All right, then. This was good.
* * *
It wasn’t good. It was worse than ever. I’d never been more aware of another human being in my life and I hated it. My senses were on high alert and completely in tune to Ky throughout the entire show. He didn’t move around the stage much, but there wasn’t much real estate to work with, and Justin used the excess space to connect with Zero’s fans.
In my opinion, Justin’s emotive performances were the biggest reason Zero had a shot at the big time. Not many front men could make an audience feel like they were having a private conversation with a rock star. His lyrics were a perfect blend of poetry and sex. He was alternately thoughtful and dirty, funny and edgy. And thankfully, never boring. The other guys got in on the act too. They engaged in silly repartee in between sets and showed off their skill on their respective instruments. Johnny was a rockin’ guitarist, Tegan was a maestro on the drums, and Ky was…well, he was sexy as fuck. He exuded a cool-under-pressure vibe with just enough swagger to make an audience pay attention. And tonight, they fucking loved him.
Okay, they were probably equally excited about the other guys in the band, but I was hypersensitive to all things Ky. If I wasn’t staring at the dragon tattoo on his bicep, my gaze was glued to the fluid movement of his fingers on the bass strings. He was magnetic. And I wasn’t the only one who thought so. I overheard a group of college-aged girls going gaga over him at the bar.
“…so fucking hot! And that hat. Has Ky ever worn a hat? I love it. He should wear it every night.”
Yes, he should, I mused, sipping my ginger ale with a sprig of rosemary. I looked for Gray on the other side of the club, but it was difficult to see in the dark. The safest way across was to skirt the perimeter near the exit. I was about to brave it when someone tugged at my elbow.