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“You don’t have to go.” Collin’s firm and oh-so-delectable lips drew back from his perfect white teeth. “You don’t work for Martin Skellin, babe.”
“But I do in a way. We all do.”
Collin was more naive about the ways of the world than I was. I placed my hand on the center of his rock-hard chest, feeling his muscles flex beneath the soft cotton shirt stretched tight across it.
He tried a different tack. “I don’t like you being alone with him.” He made the admission in a low tone as the blonde climbed back up the stairs on pinpoint heels like mine.
“I won’t be alone,” I said. “There’s a staff of fifty upstairs, and the doors will be opening soon.”
“Only one person I want to perform for right now, babe.” His gaze dipped to my lips, and a shiver rolled through me. The outfit was working.
“Okay.” I melted a little, wanting to drown in his liquid-metal gaze. “Where should we go ...” I trailed off as a rhythmic thumping sounded against the door across the corridor from us.
“Yes!” a familiar voice cried out. “Oh yes!” My sister’s voice came from behind the door, though she remained unseen.
“What the fuck?” Andy stepped out of his dressing room. Scowling as my sister moaned again, he glanced at the rest of us before going to the dressing room next to his. Banging hard, he said, “Open the damn door, Rachel.”
A few beats passed before the door popped open. “What do you want?” my sister asked, peering up at the lead singer through her lashes.
“I think you know,” Andy said darkly, trying to see past her into her room.
“Andy, don’t start.” She shook her head at him.
“Right.” His jaw tightened. “Fucking some random guy is okay, but not me because I wanted a relationship with you. Is that still the case?”
“Not going over this again with you.” Her words were clipped. “We agreed to remain friends.”
“I didn’t agree to shit. You decided.”
“It’s for the best.”
“Excuse me.” A tall guy way too old for Rachel stepped out of her dressing room, carrying his shirt. “You’re Andy Green, and you’re Collin Murphy.” After pulling on his shirt, he excitedly glanced back and forth between the two men. “Can I have autographs?”
“Sure, dude.” Frowning once more at Rachel, Andy pasted on a neutral expression as he took the pen my sister’s hookup withdrew from the pocket of his jeans.
“Addy.” Noticing me, Rachel beckoned. “And Miranda. Come inside my dressing room. I want to talk to you.”
“Sure.” Miranda was closer and went in first.
I kissed Collin’s firm and slightly parted lips, and pretended my legs weren’t wobbly from that merest of touches as I followed her. As soon as I was inside, Rachel closed the door. Turning, she swept her gaze over me.
“Gah, you are so obviously swooning over him.” She gave me a disgusted look. “And what the hell are you wearing?”
I arched a brow. “A trench coat and heels.”
“Anything else under that coat?” Rachel’s pretty blue eyes rounded.
“Yeah, but you first.” I gave her a quick narrow-eyed scan, and she shrugged.
“I’m not wearing anything but this robe.”
“I can see that. I mean, I can’t, but ...” I trailed off as she tightened the sash on her kimono. “What I mean is, who was that guy, and does he know you’re underage?”
“I don’t know his name,” she said haughtily. “I don’t want to know his name. He promised me an orgasm, and he delivered. End of story.”
“Rach.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Not the end. He’s out there with Andy and Collin. Maybe Barry too.” With the band due onstage, my male best friend had to be around somewhere. “You could be pregnant.”
Rachel scoffed. “I’m on the pill, and we used protection. Not getting pregnant.”
