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“Sparks, you carried me.” She kept her voice low, but it didn’t matter now. Everyone had seen.
That should bother her, right? This was a secret, all on the downlow. For once, her band had stuff to whisper about that wasn’t Mal-related. She wasn’t even really concerned, except for one thing.
It should’ve been three of them there, not two.
“Yeah, sorry.” Sparks scratched the back of his neck as he followed her gaze to her friends. “You don’t want this out there. I should’ve thought.”
“It’s okay. You’re so kind. Thoughtful.” When he wouldn’t look at her, she leaned up and cupped his jaw to bring his gaze back to hers.
Being caught wasn’t nearly as important as this.
“Why me?” she asked. “What makes a guy like you want someone like me? Everyone thinks I’m shallow. I was mean to you. I never paid you the time of day.”
“That’s okay. I paid you enough for the both of us.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she curled her fingers against his cheek. “I was blind. Fucking blind.”
“And now you see.” His dimpled smile took her breath away. Especially as he dipped his head and murmured, “I want you on my lap, right here, right now. Damn them all.”
She lowered her lashes and let her hand drop from his face. “So you can comfort me?”
“Is that what we’re calling fucking now?” His green eyes twinkled. “Then yes. I’d like to comfort you all night long.”
“I like how you think, Pruitt.” She laughed, bowing her head as he rubbed her thigh. Tingles erupted along her skin everywhere he touched.
She definitely wasn’t feeling much pain now.
“Speaking of that, think you can come over tonight?” He traced his fingers along the rip in her jeans. “Let us take care of you,” he said, voice soft.
“Two-on-one comforting?”
“If you’re up for that. Otherwise, just movies and sleep.” He slipped his finger between her flesh and denim and her heart skipped. “I’ve gotten used to having you beside me in bed.”
“And Tristan,” she reminded him.
Considering how quickly he nodded, he clearly hadn’t forgotten for a minute.
No matter what pockets of time she had alone with Tristan, or alone with Sparks, they were always cognizant that they were three. Always three.
Now they were going to spend time together that wasn’t about sex. Movies and sleep. Why did that scare her so much more than if Sparks had suggested double penetration?
Because sex was easy. Caring was hard.
And frightening as hell.
“I’ll try,” she replied, just as softly. “Depends on what happens with rehearsal. Mal lost his shit, but we still have a show tomorrow night so we may be at it late tonight.”
He nodded. “Whenever you’re done, just come over. It doesn’t matter what time.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t a big deal. They were friends. “I’ll try to make it.”
“Tris wants to come to your show. I got comped some tickets so I gave him one.”
“Yeah, but you don’t get front row. I’ll hook him up.” She winked and rubbed her thumb over his lower lip.
The sharp click of heels had her jerking back, but not fast enough. Lila was striding toward their couch and speaking into a walkie talkie.
“I don’t care if she’s gone now. This club was supposed to be closed, and I saw someone lurking in the back row. No one is allowed in here during rehearsals but the band and essential personnel, along with club staff. If someone sneaked in, I want to make sure they’re now off the premises—and without contraband. They could release bootlegs or God knows what.” Static and a harried male voice came through the speaker, but Lila cut him off. “I want it taken care of. Now. No excuses.”
