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One
Big D
Smack.My phone goes tumbling to the floor as I stumble backward. It takes me a second to register that I missed the doorway into the backstage meeting room.
“I think you were aiming for that big opening, not the door jamb, slick,” Jack says, as all three of my brothers laugh.
They wouldn’t be laughing if they saw what IthinkI just saw. I grab my phone from the floor. Damnit. My phone turned off when it hit the ground.
“If you break your fingers walking into a door jamb, it’s onyouto tell the audience the show is canceled because our keyboard player is a dumbass.”
I don’t bother looking up to acknowledge Calvin, who’s the oldest, and a little cocky about being lead vocals and guitar.
“Go to hell.” I tap my thumb against the side of my phone. Why the fuck does it take this thing so long to power on?
Joining my brothers, I sit on a stool for our pre-concert check-in. If there are any last-minute changes, I’m fucked. The image that seared itself into my brain seconds before I ran into the door and dropped my phone is occupying all of my brain space.
“What the hell has you so flustered?” Jack asks. He’s the bad boy of the band, but it’s a façade.
“Hang on.” I want to be sure before I say anything.
“Do we need to make a ‘no phones’ policy for when we’re on stage?” Calvin mocks me.
The screen powers back on, saving me from arguing with him. I tap into the social media app and try to remember the name of the gossip group from the hole-in-the-wall town less than an hour away. One of our fans just invited me to it.Smutsomething.
I typeS-M— There it is.SmorgasSmut.
And there she is, Aurora, our stepsister.
Not the little kid we always gave over-the-top support to. Not the gangly teen with a passion for theater. Not the bubbly, innocent sister—my brain short circuits.
Fuck-Me red lipstick, way too much for her light complexion. Long, blond wavy hair styled to perfection. And that smokey eye-makeup. Shit.
My cock forgets that she’s been our sister since she was three. That we share a last name since our dad adopted her. My cock shouldn’t be getting hard.
Sheshouldn’t be wearing that sexy red and white strapless number. I shouldn’t be wanting to lick up her red and white striped thigh-high stockings to find her sweet spot.
Our band’s success has required us to be on the road a lot the past few years. It had helped me try to ignore how little Rory had grown into such a gorgeous woman. But damn. We’re back home and she’s…off limits. I know that.
The tension in my jaw is enough to trigger a headache. I shift my lower jaw from side to side, then rub a hand inconspicuously over the strain in front of my pants.
The stage manager enters and starts talking.Yada, yada.
I have to figure out why Rory’s dressed like that, and why she’s being gossiped about. I scroll to read the comments. “She’s in a fucking auction?”
I almost drop my phone again.
“Sheandauctionin the same sentence. Sounds like something I’d like.” Jack steps beside me. I scroll back to the picture.
“Oh damn,” he says. “That’s Rory.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“She’s in an auction?” Jack’s as dumbfounded as I am.
Her body glitter sparkles almost as much as her light blue eyes. Will I go to hell for wanting to roll around with her and get that sparkle in inappropriate places?
Brian, the stage manager, tries to cut in. “The opening act’s about to go on. Time to focus.”
