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“The whole tour.”
Jax rubs his nose. “Shit.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re distracting.” He sighs. “You’re beautiful.”
“Oh, dear.” I shake my head at him. “I think you should call a cab and go sleep this off.”
“But you are and I want to… and I can’t ‘cause you’re his sister.”
I slide my chair back. “Wrong. You can’t because I don’t sleep with guys like you.”
Weirdest thing. Jax looks shocked. “Like me? But I’m a rock star.”
“Omigod, you’re hilarious!”
“What?”
This guy is genuinely confused why I wouldn’t throw myself naked at him. “I don’t want to have sex with you. Ever. So keep that in your pretty little head.”
“Huh.” Jax sits back again. “But you think I’m hot.”
“Jesus, Jax, give it a rest.”
“I saw how you looked at me when we met. I know when girls want me. Plenty do, you know.”
I splutter. “You’re attractive, yes, but I don’t ‘want’ you.”
Slumped in his seat still, Jax looks up at the sky. “I’m a rock star.”
“Apparently, so you keep telling me.”
“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird, right? Like, six months ago I was a wannabe rock star. Didn’t like him much but he’s okay, I s’pose. I mean, without him I wouldn’t be here.”
“Didn’t like who?”
“Jem Jones. Stole my girl.”
I straighten with interest. “Your girl? Ruby? Were you together?”
“No, but should’ve been.” He pauses. “I’m over her now. We’d never work.”
“It certainly looked like you were over her half an hour ago.”
The conversation lulls and Jax slips further in his chair, head nodding to one side, eyes closed.
“Jax, you need to leave before you pass out.” I poke him in the stomach, not surprised by how solid his abs are.
Jax blinks back to his inebriated consciousness, steadies himself on the table, and stands. This guy is a hilarious drunk, swaying slightly as he grips the back of the chair. Scared he’s about to collapse, I stand too.
He turns his drunken eyes to me again. “You’re beautiful, Tegan why-the-hell-did-you-have-to-be-Hughes.”
“You’re drunk.”
“But in the morning I’ll be sober and you’ll… Wait. How does that thing go again?”
“What thing?”
