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Deciding to find out, once and for all, I drag my teeth suggestively over my lower lip, smile brightly, and then... wink at Reed. And, to my shock, Reed Rivers immediately winks back. In reply, my flirtatious smile morphs into a full, beaming, goofy one, which Reed returns in kind. Although, to be sure, Reed’s full smile is anything but goofy.
Still smiling broadly at me, he dips his chin, as if to say, Hello.
So, I return his gesture. Hello, Handsome. I waggle my eyebrows, just to triple-check I’m not imagining this. And, to my sizzling delight, Reed sends me a return eyebrow waggle that makes me giggle. How is it possible his eyebrow waggle is actually sexy? So sexy, in fact, it sends arousal pooling between my legs.
“What do you think about that?” the moderator says. “Reed?”
Reed abruptly swivels his head.
“What advice would you give anyone dreaming of a career in music, Reed?”
“Oh. Uh.” Reed clears his throat. “Yes. Well, to begin with, I’d say ‘fake it ’til you make it.’ Not original, I know, but still good advice. People in this industry don’t want to be the first or the last to jump on a bandwagon. So, your job is to convince them they’ve personally discovered the next big thing—someone only the coolest of cool kids know about at the moment.” He launches into explaining his point further, and I force myself to look away—at CeeCee, the moderator, the other panelists... until, finally, I allow myself another quick peek at him. And, to my thrill, he’s staring at me again. This time, when our eyes meet, Reed leans forward and says, “My last piece of advice would be this. When opportunity knocks, say yes.” He flashes me a naughty smile. “Actually, say yes, yes, yes, without apology or hesitation. You might only get one shot. No regrets.”
Arousal zings through my body, reddening my cheeks and hardening my nipples. Without meaning to do it, I nod slowly, letting Reed know I’ve heard him loud and clear. That I’m ready to say yes, yes, yes to him, any time, any place. All he needs to do is ask.
Reed smirks at me one last time, before turning to look at the moderator. “And that’s pretty much it, Angela.”
As everyone applauds, the moderator thanks Reed for his comments, which she calls insightful, inspiring, and “oddly arousing.” And then, with a laugh, she announces we’ve reached the end of the presentation and asks the panelists to hang around to answer students’ questions. And through it all, Reed and I can’t stop eyeball-fucking each other from across the lecture hall like our lives depend on it.
Suddenly, I become aware students around me have risen from their chairs and are working their way toward the aisles.
“Did you see Reed flirting with me?” a blonde in front of me says excitedly to her friend.
“With you?” her friend says. “He was looking at me.”
Shit. Does every woman in this building, including me, think Reed has been flirting with them for the past hour? My heart in my throat, I jockey through the slow-moving crowd and make my way toward CeeCee, who’s standing on the opposite side of the hall from Reed. When I reach the back of CeeCee’s short line, which, thankfully, is only a few students deep, I peek at Reed’s massive line... and then at him... and discover, to my thrill, his eyes are on mine again.
Without hesitation, Reed sends me a sexy little wink, followed by an eyebrow waggle. And I can’t help smiling broadly at the gesture. Of course, I give him as good as he just gave to me, making him smile... and just that fast, I know we’re both thinking the same thing: whenever he gets through his long line, he’s going to come over here to talk to me. And whatever that man suggests, whatever he asks, wherever he suggests we go, I’m going to follow his explicit directions and say, without a moment’s hesitation or apology: yes... yes... yes.
Chapter 6
Georgina
“Georgie!” a female voice says, and when I peel my eyes off Reed’s white-hot smolder at the far end of the lecture hall, my favorite professor—the one who taught two of my investigative journalism classes this year—is standing before me.
“Professor Schiff!” I say brightly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to say hello to CeeCee. We went to school together.” She indicates CeeCee’s line, now only four students deep in front of me. “You’re here to meet her?”
I nod. “I’m hoping to charm her into reading a couple of my writing samples.”
“Brilliant! Are you hoping to write for Rock ‘n’ Roll?”
“I’d love that, of course. But my dream job would be writing for Dig a Little Deeper. It’s CeeCee’s newest magazine, devoted to investigative journalism and in-depth interviews.”
“I know it well. You’d be perfect for that, Georgie.”
