Page 28 of After Midnight

He lets out a small laugh. “You a race car driver or something?”

I flick a glance at him and try not to admire how casually hot he is, already lounging back in the seat, one arm draped along the open window.

“Something like that.”

“All right, Andretti.” He pulls the seat belt out and clicks it into place as we come up to a red light. “So, where are you taking me?”

“No fucking way,” Sebastian says as we step into Secret Pizza, one of my favorite pizza joints in Vegas. It’s nearly impossible to find, hidden on the third level of the Cosmopolitan, down a long hallway lined with album covers. Sebastian looks down at me, expression a mix of surprise and boyish joy. “How’d you know I wanted pizza?”

I shrug, smiling back at him over my shoulder as I lead the way through the crowded pizza joint. “Get anything you want. I’m buying.”

At those words, the smile on his face falters, just a bit, and I wonder why. But it’s back in place a second later as he steps up to the counter with me.

We each order two slices of pizza, then go to take a seat at one of the high counters.

“Thanks,” Sebastian says as he lifts his first slice and tosses me a smile. “You’re spoiling me tonight.” He takes a big bite, looking like the happiest guy in the world, and I tear my gaze away from his brown eyes; they’re making my stomach flutter in a way that is not okay.

A few customers trickle in while we eat, and though we get some glances, no one seems to recognize the rock star in the hoodie and the hat, chowing down on his second slice.

“Do you get recognized very often?” I ask as I dab pizza sauce from my lips and reach for my lemon-flavored San Pellegrino.

Sebastian shrugs. “Depends. If we’re at a music festival or something, then yeah. But in my regular life, not as often.” He flicks me a glance. “Dex gets followed around everywhere. It’s a pain in the ass going anywhere with him.”

This makes me smile. “You don’t like the limelight?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, it sucks balls. It was fun for about six months, when LGC started getting big. But it got old fast.” He finishes his second slice and washes it down with his own San Pellegrino, then glances over my shoulder. “You down for a game of pinball?”

Behind me stand two pinball machines. One’s already in use, but the other is open and waiting for us.

I arch a brow at him. “If you want to lose, sure.”

His dimpled smile is back. “Bring it on, baby. You’re about to witness greatness.”

We clean up our plates and drinks, then snag the open pinball machine. Sebastian gets change, then hands me a tower of quarters—way more than we need. I put one in, and the machine lights up and starts making its familiar obnoxious noises.

“Watch and learn,” I tell him, placing my hands on the paddles.

I can’t count how many times I’ve played on these machines; Riley and I go hard every time we come here together.

Riley.

Thinking of her, I glance over at Sebastian, where he’s leaning against the machine, gaze focused on the pinball as it careens wildly through the machine, racking up points as it goes. She’d lose her shit if she knew I’m on a date with the drummer of LGC.

Wait.

Is this a date?

The thought makes me hit the paddle late, and the ball slips through the gap. The machine chimes, and Sebastian says, “Finally. I thought it’d never end.” He waves a hand at me. “Move over. Let the boss show you how it’s done.”

Smiling, I roll my eyes at him and scoot out of the way.

And his turn ends in all of five seconds.

He looks up at me, and I arch a brow. “The boss, huh?”

His smile turns sheepish. “Okay, maybe I haven’t played in a while. I just needed to warm up.”

Half an hour and a ton of quarters later, it’s obvious that Sebastian is terrible at pinball. He loses to me. Badly. But he’s a good sport about it, smiling and laughing the whole time. And I realize I like that—a man who can get his ass publicly kicked at pinball and not care one bit.