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“Nobody. I was just clarifying,” I grumbled, sliding my gaze away from her and lifting my glass of ginger ale to my lips.
“Well, thank you so much,” she spat, yanking her dress up over her boobs. “Fucking rock stars. You're all assholes, you know that?”
“Yep.”
“My ex-husbands were both rock stars, and they were both pieces of shit,” she went on, proving a point with a cock of her hip and a zigzagging wave of her finger. “Cheating motherfuckers.”
The award show after-party was being held in the penthouse of the hotel I was staying the night at. My band and I had walked through the door pretty inconspicuously a couple of hours ago, sneaking in behind living legend Devin O'Leary and his purple-haired wife. But now, every surrounding pair of eyes was on me and the woman who was making it her personal vendetta to get us both kicked out of the place.
It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen.
I really wanted a burger before Shake Shack closed.
“Maybe it's time you find a different type,” I suggested coolly, not caring that she was making a scene.
“God, I amsoglad I didn't have sex with you,” she fired at me, smacking my arm with her tiny, gemstone-encrusted purse.
“That makes two of us,” I muttered, lifting my glass back to my lips.
With a harder whack against my arm, she hurried away, teetering unsteadily on her stiletto heels while I sighed, relieved and exhausted.
Being a dick might come easily, but that didn't mean I was proud of it. Still, rejecting her nicely would've only encouraged her to throw herself harder at me, and then she really would've made a fool of herself when she saw the pictures circulating around the internet the next morning. Now, I was free to make a clean getaway, and she had the choice to head back to her room and sleep it off.
It was a win-win.
“You make friends everywhere you go,” Simon chided, sidling up beside me and slinging an arm around my neck.
“That's me. Mr. Popular,” I said, sliding my half-empty glass onto a nearby table. “Hey, so I'm gonna get outta—”
The wind was knocked from my lungs as I looked up and let my gaze fall on the doorway. Beneath a canopy of sparkling crystals stood a woman I instantly knew could inspire a thousand songs, if I could ever possess the ability to write again. Even in the dim mood lighting in the penthouse, her fair skin seemed to glow, like the illustrious moon in a sky barren of stars, starkly contrasted by her hair, which was darker than the night. The strapless black velvet dress she wore was simple but elegant, wrapping her curves in a tight embrace before spilling to the floor, hiding all but the silver toes of her shoes.
I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life, and somehow, I knew I had seen her before.
But where?
Instantly frustrated by my inability to remember where I’d seen the most beautiful person my eyes had ever fallen upon, I furrowed my brow and gave my chin a slight nudge in her direction. “Who is that?” I asked absentmindedly, narrowing my eyes to study her face. Desperate for a closer look.
“Who?” Simon asked, following my gaze. “Tarryn King?”
Jesus. I had been so immediately taken that I didn’t notice Tarryn, standing beside this mystery woman and flapping her lips a mile a minute. The woman contorted her face in a laugh that left her eyes in tiny slits. The two of them were comfortable together, obviously friends.
Maybe she’s an actress too.
“No, not …” I barely gave my head a shake. “Not Tarryn. The other one. With the black hair.”
“Oh, I have no idea,” Simon said with a casual shrug, hardly giving the woman a glance.
“You sure?”
A waitress walked by, balancing a plate of sushi rolls on one hand.
Simon reached out and plucked one before she could walk away, then said, “Pretty sure. Why? You gonna work your magic on her?”
I couldn't hold back the sardonic laugh as it scraped along my throat. I hadn't workedmy magicon anybody in four years, and Simon knew it. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to successfully charm a woman back into my bed. But the guys were forever hopeful I'd find that guy again. The one who’d harnessed his passion for sex and songs, effortlessly bouncing from one bed and muse to another.
As far as I was concerned, that guy had died four years ago when he wrecked his car.
But that didn't mean I wasn't going to talk to this particular woman, now accepting Tarryn's arm and heading for the bar.
