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“Mykind?”
“Parasites,” I grunt. “Paparazzi, journalists, the media at large…you’re all fucking parasites.”
I know I’m being a dick. Luckily, I’m a pro at it.
Melody looks down, her brow furrowing.
“I….I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to crash into your life, I just…” She swallows, dragging her gaze back up to my glaring one “I really am a huge fan, and I just—”
“I’msureyou are. What are you, seventeen?”
She snorts, sneering coldly at me.
“Better hope not, considering the number of ways you’ve crudely propositioned me today.”
A shadow crosses my face.
Shit.
My jaw tightens, brow arching.
“Well?”
Melody looks away.
“I’m twenty, actually. And I’ve been listening to Velvet Guillotine my entire life.”
Well, that’s a brutal reminder of my age.
“I don’t give a flying fuck if you are actually a Guillotine fan. It’s not gonna do fuck-all to get you an interview with me. In fact, all you’ve accomplished just now is making me feel old.”
Her lips curl coldly.
“Youareold. Sorry,” she says flatly.
“Sure does looks windy outside.” My eyes narrow. “And cold. And wet, and not in a fun way.”
The threat isn’t lost on her. Her mouth thins, lips pursing as I smile coldly, lording my asshole-ness over her.
“Thought so.”
I clear my throat.
“Name one.”
“Name one what?”
“Name one single Velvet Guillotine song, super fan. You do that, and you can stay. I’ll even let you sleep inside.”
She sneers at me. Goddamnit, why is it so fucking tempting when she’s combative with me.
“You’ve alreadysaidthat I can—”
“One. Song.”
I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest.
Melody rolls her eyes.
