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“Goodbye,” I say and shove his foot out of the way so I can slam the door shut. Once I have the door closed, I sag against it.
Shit.
I hope he gives up, but I know he won’t. Not until he’s exhausted all avenues.
Fuck.
I look at the room I’ve just stepped into. It’s a fundraising event for breast cancer research, and it’s decorated in pink and white. They’ve pulled out all the stops with balloons, flowers, candles, and pretty party lights everywhere. It’s like a magical wonderland, and I stare in awe. I wish I had my camera with me; I could get some amazing photos of all this.
Jett pulls me close and murmurs against my ear, “Thank you for coming tonight.”
He called me four hours ago and asked me to come. I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Smiling at him, I say, “Any excuse to wear a party dress.”
“I’ll remember that,” he promises while scanning the room. His gaze settles on the bar. “I’m gonna go get some drinks. What would you like?”
“Surprise me with a cocktail.”
He nods. “Will do. You’ll be right at the table with the boys?”
“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to hanging out with them tonight.”
“Good. They’re looking forward to it, too.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. They like you. Told me not to fuck it up.”
I turn to face him and loop my hands around his neck. He bends to give me a quick kiss, and when we pull apart, I say, “I’m so happy I decided to go on a date with you, Jett Vaughn.”
“Me too, sweetheart. You’ve no idea just how happy.”
I like his honesty, and the fact he doesn’t hesitate to make himself vulnerable to me.
“Okay, go. If you get enough cocktails in me tonight, you might get your way with me later.”
“Really? I think your sex addiction would guarantee me that without cocktails.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. He’s totally right. I shove him gently. “Go.”
He gives me one last sexy grin and then leaves. I admire him as he walks away. Jett’s wearing a suit tonight and looks so hot I’m sure we’ll have to leave early so I can satisfy my addiction.
“Presley!”
I turn to find West motioning for me to join the rest of the band at the table. I’m surprised none of them brought a date tonight. I’m the only woman in the group. I make my way over to them and take a seat.
“Looking good, babe,” West says, his eyes gazing appreciatively at my body for a moment. I’m wearing a fitted, floor-length black evening dress, that has gorgeous beading over the thin straps and a long slit that ends mid thigh. Jett’s eyes almost bulged out of his head when he picked me up.
“Fuck, West, don’t. The last thing we need is Jett losing his shit tonight,” Hunter warns him.
I eye West. “Thank you for the compliment but I think Hunter’s right. Let’s not rile Jett up tonight.”
“I know I’ve said it before, but I fucking like you, Presley. You say it like it is,” West says.
Van’s been lounging in his chair, an angry glare fixed on his face. But he looks at me now and asks, “Has Jett convinced you to photograph our next tour yet?”
“We haven’t really discussed it.”
“You should consider it. Your photography is fucking amazing. We’d be lucky to have you.” It’s the nicest he’s been to me so far, and I’m floored by his kind words.
