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“Same soft-looking chocolate-brown hair, but now she’s got some lighter highlights.” I throw Tristan a look at his description of her. He gives me awhatshrug and I try not to scowl, but I know I fail miserably when he arches a brow and gets a cocky smirk on his face. I’m definitely not fooling him.
“What are y’all looking at?” a soft, feminine voice says from behind us.
We all whip around to see Becka standing there in black skinny jeans, black ankle boots, and a white shirt covered by a black leather jacket with her brown hair cascading around her shoulders. Her brow is arched, but her pink lips twitch in amusement.
“Just waiting on you, so our good man here didn’t lose his shit thinking you’d ditched him,” Kasen says as he walks up to her with his typical swagger and lifts her up into a hug. Kasen is six feet four and covered in tats and piercings, but his smile never fails to make him look like he’s as innocent as a kitten.
Even if he’s not.
“That’s not what would’ve happened,” I say with my scowl directed toward Kasen. Miles just chuckles again, and Tristan remains quietly supportive at my side.
Becka giggles as Kasen swings her around and then sets her back down on her feet.
About damn time.
“Hey, Kase. Long time, no see,” Becka says as Miles walks up to her, and she gives him a warm smile. “Miles. It’s been way too long. How are you?”
“Been good. Living the life. You know how it goes.”
“Oh sure. Yep. I totally know what it’s like staying in five-star hotels and rocking out in front of thousands of fans. Definitely know all about that.” She gives him a teasing wink and then turns to Tristan and gives him a hug. “Good to see you again.”
“You too.”
Then it’s my turn. A surge of giddiness travels through me when she turns her beautiful gaze to me.
Okay, giddiness and those damn nerves.
I can’t remember the last time I was nervous around a woman. It’s a novel feeling but one I don’t mind. Even if I know nothing can ever happen.
“Hey, Becks.” Using her childhood nickname helps me focus on the fact that we’re just friends.
But it doesn’t go unnoticed that the smile she gives me is a little warmer and softer than what she gave the rest of the band.
It’s just for me.
“Hey. Thanks for inviting me tonight.”
“Did you find parking okay?”
“Yup. Your directions were perfect.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
We stand there, staring awkwardly at each other, and suddenly I have no idea how to continue the conversation. I didn’t have this problem the other night at the beach house, or any other night we’ve talked.
Why don’t I have any game with this woman?
Because I can’t sleep with her. She’s just a friend.
Scratching the back of my neck, I point to a couch in the corner that we use for friends and family to watch the show from backstage if they want to. “Uh, you want to sit here for the show? Or we’ve got some seats reserved out front.”
“I’ll probably have a better view from out front, right?”
“Yeah.”
She smiles, a slow and sweet smile that makes my gut clench with want. “Okay, then show me the way, Mr. Rock Star.”
