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“Good show,” I said.
“Only good?” He grabbed his chest. “Dagger, Ya-Ya. Right to the heart.”
Laughing, I said, “Excellent show. No performance has ever been better. Several people had to be taken away by ambulance because their socks were literally blown off. It was a whole scene. Blood and gore everywhere.”
He threw his arm around my neck and rubbed his fist on the top of my head, giving me a freaking noogie like I was ten years old. I stomped on his toes with my heeled boot, causing him to jump away and release me.
“Damn, Yael. Pretty sure I just lost a toe.”
I smoothed my hair, giving him the evilest look I could summon. “I love you like a brother—”
“Uh, unless I’m confused, Iamyour brother…”
I held up my hand. “As I was saying, I love you like a brother, but you give me another noogie and I’ll be forced to give you a wet willy.”
Mo’s hands flew to the sides of his head. “You know I hate shit in my ears.”
“Oh, I know.” I licked my finger and wagged it at him. “Try me.”
He grabbed my hand and twisted my arm behind my back until I wiggled free and put space between us so he couldn’t get ahold of me again.
“Clark’s about to have an aneurysm over the Aronson siblings' antics,” Mo said, amused.
Over my shoulder, I spotted his red-faced, slicked-hair manager watching Mo and I with a horrified expression. No one liked Clark, that was a fact. But the band kept him because most of his ideas were sound and they were his top priority. He’d jump in front of a speeding train to protect their image, though his idea of image skewed in a different direction than mine. While I figured the press and fans found Mo and I arguing like grade-schoolers charming, Clark did not.
I gave him a winning smile and a wink before turning back around, only to have my vision filled with a ginger beard, smirking lips, and the perfect smattering of freckles. Alex had joined us, standing closer to me than the amount of space available dictated.
“Making trouble again?” Alex directed his question at me, as if I were the sole troublemaker in our pair.
“Always.” I gave him a thorough once-over. A man really shouldn’t wear vinyl as well as he did. Alex’s legs were long, the muscles defined from his years on a skateboard, and it was all on display, encased in shiny, green, man-made material.
He raised a brow. “You like my pants, cool girl?”
I tapped my chin and narrowed my eyes. “I’m worried if, one day, you find a woman who is crazy enough to bear your children, it won’t be possible seeing as all your sperm have now been strangled.”
Mo curled his arm around my neck again. “Doesn’t work that way.”
Alex smirked. “Nice of you to be worried about me. I appreciate that.”
“And I appreciate that you put a shirt on.” Not that the fitted, white T-shirt offered much coverage, but at least I didn’t have to be up close and personal with Alex’s chest. Seeing his dick-print was quite enough for one evening.
He bowed, his hands pressed together. “Anything for you, oh cool one.”
Remembering why I came over here in the first place, I angled myself toward Mo and ignored Alex as best I could. “Maeve, Santi, Haven, and I are going for drinks after this. Are you in?” I asked my brother.
Mo shook his head. “Not tonight. If Mic were here, I would, but you know…” He grinned that lovesick puppy smile he got whenever his wife was on his mind.
“Pfft. I know. The rest of us cease to exist in the presence of your soulmate. Like true love and passion is all that great.” I rolled my eyes, and Mo came in for another noogie, which I dodged.
“Don’t mess with my hair. I told you what would happen, Moses,” I warned, wetting my finger.
“Do I get an invite?” Alex asked.
Having no choice, I turned back to him. “Don’t you have plans with your harem? I thought that’s what you normally do after shows.”
“Nope. No harem, no plans. I’m all yours,” Alex replied.
“Then sure, you’re invited.” I shrugged.
