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LENA
“You look about as fun as hanging upside down until your nose bleeds,” Jackson muttered. “And I still think I’d rather do that.”
Asshole.
I stared into the face of Mr. Superstar-Rockstar, Jackson Whiss, my arms folded across my chest and eyebrow cocked. “Why would you say that? You don’t even know me.”
“I know your type. And well, most fans are usually a little more excited for a meet and greet,” he continued, his razor-sharp jaw tensing. “You just seem uptight. Like, smoke a joint and relax or something.” He then let out a chuckle that would almost be endearing…if he wasn’t so…rude.
“I am relaxed, but I guess I’m not most fans,” I snapped as I reluctantly leaned in for some random photographer to snap our picture together. I froze as Jackson draped his arm around my shoulders, and suddenly all I could smell was the scent of his cologne.
A musty, woodsy, and almost intoxicating scent.
The moment the camera dropped, I shrugged him off of me, ignoring the way my heart was racing a little faster than usual—and the smirk painted across Jackson’s face.
“Thanks,” one of the photographers said, giving us a grin. “Enjoy the meet and greet. You’re one lucky lady to have your package upgraded for free. That doesn’t happen often—and you’re getting Jackson’s attention. That’s a big deal.”
I nodded, smiling instead of sharing how I really felt about it. “Yeah, thank you.” My eyes flickered around the room backstage, searching for my best friend—the reason we had accepted the meet-and-greet package for Bad Man’s Land in the first place. She was obsessed with them, and while I loved their music…
I was not in awe of a rock star’s way of life, no matter how good Jackson Whiss might smell.
“You want a drink or something?” that deep, eerily arousing voice asked from behind me, igniting something in my core that was embarrassing. “We have anything you could ever want. You know, because we’re—”
“Uh-huh, yeah, I know. You’re rich and famous,” I cut Jackson off, turning to face him. His dark hair fell slightly in his face but it wasn’t overly long by any means. He had a five-o’clock shadow too, but in reality, it was more like a midnight shadow…
And maybe that was why I was so cranky.
It’s way past my bedtime.
“So do you want anything or not? Because it seems like your friend is having a hell of a time, so you’re gonna have to just chill.” Jackson motioned behind me, and I turned to see Maeve, lip-locked with the rhythm guitarist/keyboardist.
My shoulders slumped at the sight of my platinum-blonde best friend. “Great,” I muttered, running my fingers through my own dirty-blonde hair, and then looking back to Jackson. “Can I have a water please?”
He gave me a funny look, shaking his head. “You can have anything you want, and you want water?”
“Yeah. I do.” I didn’t bother to give him an explanation, because a guy like him wouldn’t understand the fact that I don’t really drink that often—and definitely not when I’m surrounded by a bunch of rock stars and their posse. The room was loud and there were a lot more people than I’d expected there to be…
As soon as we’d taken our pictures, the other band members had mostly split off to socialize with the rest of the star-studded room, leaving me with the front man, who apparently had nothing better to do than bother me.
However, as I glanced around, I realized he had finally left me alone.
Now maybe I can find Maeve and get the hell out of here.
I slipped through the small crowd of people, realizing it wasn’t so much that there were a ton of people—it was just a small room. Music blared from the speakers, and while I considered myself knowledgeable about music, I didn’t recognize the pop-rock tune.
Where is she?
Irritation burned in my chest, mostly just because I wanted to go home. I had to teach class tomorrow, and there was nothing worse than trying to keep control of a bunch of five-year-olds when I felt like a zombie.
Finally, I spotted her again, sitting with Tyson—I thought that was his name—on one of the couches. He was wrapped all around her while she nursed a beer, sipping on it and giggling. The sight would be cute if I wasn’t so ready to go.
“Hey,” I called out, waving my hand.
“Oh, hey!” Maeve beamed, bouncing on the couch. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to…but Tyson said it looked like you were getting close with Jackson.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and I shook my head.
“No, no, I wouldn’t say we were getting close. He’s just the only person that didn’t leave when y’all did,” I said, giving her a weary look. “Are you about ready to go?”
