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“Exactly. So, we shake things up. Killian’s in a shit place. His band fell apart just as he was hitting it big. Your solo career has slipped into oblivion. You need each other.”
I sighed and ran a hand over the back of my neck. “I can do this without him.”
“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, handsome, but you can’t. You’ve done everything on your own all your life. He’s done it all with a team. Why don’t you give it a go and see what happens? Dare I say, you might make some magic?”
Killian came down the stairs dressed in tight black jeans and a white T-shirt that spread the logo for Wilde Horse Ranch across his chest. The slogan, Go Wilde written in script under a rearing horse silhouette.
“Thanks for waitin’ on me. So, Jackie, you wanna explain what in the world makes you think Jameson and I can do anything together that makes any fucking sense?”
Jackie rolled her eyes and pointed to the loveseat. “You two, sit.”
Every passing second only made that feeling of something being wrong grow in my gut. Killian clearly didn’t want this. He hadn’t had a clue. Me? I didn’t know what to do. Jackie was right, my career was floundering. The shine had worn off. I was one more flop away from a full-time gig as a reality TV contest host.
Killian sat first, and I joined him, the heat of his thigh next to mine undeniable and more arousing than I wanted to admit. It had been a long fucking time since I’d been with a man. My last two relationships were with women. But there was definitely something here. A spark of attraction. This could get messy.
If the way my dick was reacting to him was any indication, I needed to make sure I kept my distance. Living in the same house wasn’t a good idea.
“You know, I think I’ll just—”
“You’ll just sit there and listen to what I have to say, Jameson Lorde.”
Fuck, Jackie was scary. Like an angry primary school teacher.
“Now, you two both need a win. Jamie, you’re approaching has-been status, and Killian, you’re being called a flash-in-the-pan. That won’t do. No clients of mine are going to be forgotten. Do you understand me?”
Killian swallowed, his hands gripping his knees, white-knuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”
I snorted. “What a pussy.”
“I heard that, Jamie. He’s smart. Smarter than you are. You want to get back on the horse? You need to hitch your wagon to Killian. He can still turn this around. A secret project with sexy, bad boy rocker Jameson Lorde is exactly what can do that for both of you.”
“We don’t even work in the same genre.” My protest was weak at best.
“Neither did David Bowie and Bing Crosby, but we still have to listen to their god-awful Christmas song on the radio every fucking year. Not to mention Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett. If you’re going to try and tell me the two of you are too different, you’d better come up with something else. That ship has sailed. The USS Collab has left the station.”
“That’s not how that saying—” Killian withered under her stare. “Never mind. It’s great.”
“Twat,” I muttered under my breath.
“So, you just expect us to be able to write a song together, just like that?”
“Yeah, this guy is clearly too clean-cut for my style, Jackie. Look at him. He’s like a Johnny Cash wannabe.” If Johnny Cash was the sexiest motherfucker I’d ever seen and smelled like whiskey and bad decisions. And there went my dick, talking for me. Again.
“And who are you, a Jim Morrison knockoff?” Killian’s blue eyes found mine, a challenge burning in them. “Or maybe it’s Adam Levine? All that ink. Do you have the Union Jack tattooed on your belly? Maybe a portrait of the King? Definitely not as sexy as California.”
“Sounds like you paid a lot of attention to what kind of tatts Adam Levine has. Are you a big Maroon 5 fan? I could probably get you an introduction.”
He scoffed. “Don’t do me any favors.”
“You two are impossible. This is fantastic.” Jackie stood up and snagged her handbag from the floor. “Keep me posted on how it’s going. I need at least one demo from you in two weeks if we’re going to keep the label happy. You two will get along just fine once you work out the tension.”
Tension. Yeah, that’s what we’d call it. Killian might be hot, but he was no match for me. I wasn’t going to ride his damn coattails. He’d ride mine.
“So, you’re just dropping him off, and you expect me to be okay with a stranger living in my house?” Killian stood and dragged a hand through his hair before he began pacing in front of the large stone fireplace. “This isn’t even my place, Jackie. It’s my brother’s.”
“Your brother moved to Seattle. He’s not going to mind if Jamie stays.”
“God, you don’t even have your own place? Mooching off of big brother, huh?”
