AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Nice to see you too, Jackie. Come on in.”
She barreled past me and began cleaning up my living room without an invitation. Arms full of empty liquor bottles, she bustled into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe your brothers are letting you be this stupid. When Mav called and told me you’d been arrested, I made him promise he’d take care of you. This is not taking care of you. This is letting you kill yourself. And ruin your career.”
I snorted. “What career?”
She pinned me with an angry stare. “The one I’ve been trying to save. If you’d answer your phone, you’d know.”
“Jackie, love, where should I put my stuff?” A smooth, sexy British accent hit my ears from behind me.
My eyes went wide. Who the fuck was that? What stuff? Turning toward the sound, my whole body tightened at the sight of Jameson fucking Lorde standing in my entryway, ripped jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and arms covered in a mosaic of multi-colored tatts. Jesus Christ. Jameson Lorde could not be in my house right now. I was in my underwear. Fuck. I was practically naked in front of a rock god I’d fantasized about in the early days of my sexual awakening.
“Jackie, what is he talking about?” I managed to croak out.
She smirked, her gaze raking my body, which I was sure was covered in a head-to-toe flush. “Jamie is here to write a single with you, Killian. He’s staying in your spare room and not leaving until the two of you have a gold record written and a demo laid down.”
I looked to Jameson. The man smirked and gave me a once-over.
I could not get an erection right now. Not while his eyes were on me. There was no way a pair of boxer briefs would do anything to hide the thickness of my cock.
“Hiya, I’m Jamie,” he said, stepping close and holding out a hand.
Fuck. I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“Killian.” I shook his hand and forced myself to think about anything other than the sexy as fuck veins in his forearm.
“I’ll...go put some clothes on.”
Jamie’s gaze flicked down to the traitor of a hard-on I was failing to conceal. “Don’t get dressed on account of me.”
Jackie groaned. “Please, get dressed. For me. I’m not here for a show.”
Jamie gave a soft huff of laughter. “I might be.”
Was Jameson Lorde...flirting with me?
No. The man was straight. Wasn’t he?
Chapter Two
JAMESON
God, this guy was a fucking disaster. There was no way I’d be able to write a single with him, let alone an album. He was a drunk arsehole who clearly had been a one-hit-wonder. He did have a nice arse, though, I noted, as he went up the stairs in those black boxer briefs. I wondered if I could petition for whoever invented those things to be canonized. Especially the ones Killian Wilde was wearing. I was thankful as fuck I’d worn jeans instead of my usual travel clothes, joggers. While comfortable as hell, they’d have done nothing to hide my body’s reaction to seeing a shirtless, nearly nude cowboy the instant I stepped inside the house.
“I thought you said he agreed to this,” I hissed at Jackie as soon as he was out of earshot.
“Technically, his brothers agreed, and they are three-fourths owners of this ranch. They out-voted him.”
“He didn’t even know this was up for discussion? I can’t write a bloody song with someone who doesn’t want to.”
“Yeah, you can.”
“No, Jackie. That’s not how this works. We have to be in sync.”
“Listen, Jamie, I like you. A lot. You’re talented, dynamic, charming, but the truth is, the Jameson Lorde from twenty years, hell even ten years ago, doesn’t exist anymore. You’re washed up and stale. No one has said a damn thing about your last three albums. They barely hit the charts. No noms, no awards, no more gold records. You know what that means, don’t you?”
My gut twisted. “I’m disappearing.”
