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"That was my bedroom you burst into."
Somehow, my cheeks burn hotter.
His eyes rake over me. "Can't blame you for looking. I'd do the same."
My knees go weak at the seductive tone to his voice. That's him, the guy who sings In Pieces, the man who has been haunting my dreams.
That song is the centerpiece of my listen on repeat and fall apart playlist.
I try to formulate some excuse for why I need to leave immediately, but nothing comes. "You're um… you're in the band? The one that is throwing this party?"
"Yeah. Sinful Serenade. I'm the vocalist." His eyes pass over me again. He takes his time, like he's sure I'll be in his bed in thirty minutes flat.
A pang of desire shoots straight to my core. My damn body isn't obeying my commands. It can't help wanting Miles Webb. There's something appealing about the tattoos poking out from under his t-shirt. About the confidence in his eyes.
It's not like me to fall for the bad boy.
Even when he's so tall. Two inches taller than me at least. I'm 5'11', a giant for a women. I tower over most of the men I know.
But not Miles.
I take a deep breath, trying to convi
nce my body it doesn't want him.
He's bad news.
A player.
A rock star even.
But I can't stop staring.
I clear my throat. "I was looking for my friend, Kara. She's tight with some guy in your band. They go way back."
"Oh, yeah, Drew's friend. Heard a lot about her last tour."
"So, I should really find her." I step aside. "And go home. I have to study. You know how it is. Or maybe not, being a rock star and all. But I have a test tomorrow."
I turn and make my way out of the kitchen.
There are footsteps behind me. "Meg?"
I spin, eye to eye with Miles again. Once again, my mind flashes with the image of him kneeling on that bed, his cock hard, the muscles of his thighs and torso taut.
How is it possible that Miles is the guy who has been singing me to sleep? He's not a poet.
He's a manwhore.
"Yes?" I ask.
"Your friend isn't in a state to drive."
He points to Kara, curled up on the couch. Her dark eyes are filled with an expression of drunken excitement. She looks especially short and curvy next to her tall, muscular friend. That must be Drew. His black hair and intense brown eyes are appealing. No wonder she's staring at him like she wants to devour him.
She bounces to her feet and throws her arms around me. "Are you having fun? Please, tell me you aren't completely miserable."
I hug back. "Only partially."
