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I sigh. Damn Brody. He overheard me arguing with Isla about a pony ride and the next thing I know, I’m getting a bonus in the form of a coupon for three people to attend a trail ride.
“Why don’t you ask one of your friends from the community center?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I want Fender.”
Crap. Her face screams stubborn. She’s not giving up until she gets what she wants. I make one last ditch effort.
“Fender’s a busy man. You can’t expect him to drop everything to spend the day with us.”
She shrugs. “Let’s go ask him.”
She doesn’t wait for me but barges out of the house and races across the yard to next door. And here I was really excited about this house. No one warned me a sexy rockstar would move in next door.
No, not sexy. Fender isn’t sexy.
He’s sex on a stick and you know it.
Oh, shut up.
By the time I catch up to Isla, she’s already pounding on the door. “Fender! Fender! Fender!”
I check the time and realize it’s barely nine a.m. What time do rockstars wake up?
“Honey, he’s probably still asleep.”
My hopes are dashed when the door opens and Fender appears. His hair is wet. Was he in the shower? Was he naked in the shower? Oh boy. I can imagine how sexy those muscles of his are when he’s all wet with water pouring down on him.
“Fender!” Isla screams and jumps into his arms.
Fender smiles at her and his face transforms from grumpity grump to sexy boy next door with a body made for sin.
“Good morning, Isla,” he greets. “What’s going on?” he asks as he sets her down.
“We’re going on a pony ride!”
“Keep it down, Isla. Fender’s roommates might still be sleeping.”
“Too late,” Jett grumbles. His hair is all disheveled and his eyes are red-rimmed. “What time is it?” he asks as he scratches his jaw.
“Time for a pony ride!” Isla yells.
Jett chuckles. “Good thing Gibson didn’t come home last night. Waking him up early is not a good idea.”
My brow wrinkles. “Gibson didn’t come home last night? Is he okay? He’s not lying dead or injured in a ditch somewhere, is he?”
He shrugs. “I have no idea where he is.”
“Don’t you keep tabs on each other to make sure no one gets in trouble? Or hurt?”
Fender glares at me. “Gibson’s fine.”
“If he’s not, I’m holding you responsible.”
He ignores me to ask Isla, “What’s this about a pony ride?”
“I’ve always wanted a horse but Mom says they’re too much work.”
“We’re going on a trail ride,” I explain as Isla’s answer wasn’t much of an answer. “My boss gave it to me as a bonus for all my hard work.”
