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A LOST IN OBLIVION EXTRA
This bonus extra takes place just before Gray and Jazz’s wedding inUntwisted, Lost in Oblivion Book 4.
The catering truckjerked into a space at the curb with a squeal of brakes that made Lila Shawcross narrow her eyes. A moment later, the door swung open and out stepped the jackass of her worst nightmares—
Probably because he starred in way too many of her fantasies, if she allowed herself to have such.
Because he was all wrong.
Wrong.
Hell, it wasn’t that he was bad looking. Far from it. His shaggy blondish-brown hair hung over his forehead and teased his collar. Somehow the sunlit strands were both wavy and straight, and when he pulled off his shades, his amber eyes were almost the same color. Not quite gold, not quite brown, but caught in between.
The man himself was never so agreeable.
“Was this really necessary?” Nick Crandall asked, hooking his glasses in the front pocket of his jeans. He stepped onto the curb and arched a brow. “Surely you could’ve had Donovan or one of your lackeys do this for you.” His lips thinned into what passed for a smile. “Or maybe your husband?”
There was no mistaking the faux innocence in his question. Since he’d overheard her discussing her husband with Gray a few months ago in the hospital, he’d done his level best to slide it into casual conversation whenever he could. Not to be friendly, she was certain. More like he enjoyed needling her, though why that particular jab hurt more than most wasn’t something she was about to confess anytime soon.
“My husband has more important tasks to handle than worrying about fitting the wedding bands of members of rock bands I manage.” She tried to sound aloof and above reproach, but it was hard. Hard around Nick, period, harder still when her husband was the topic du jour.
Nick and her husband didn’t belong in the same sentence, ever, for too many reasons to count.
“Oh, and I don’t have anything better to do than to help Gray get hitched?Gray, of all people?” Nick tucked his fists under his biceps, still surprisingly visible under the beat-up leather jacket he wore.
Sometimes he wore an equally distressed denim one, most likely something he’d had for years. He refused to throw anything away and lived like a miser in spite of his money. The members of Oblivion weren’t millionaires yet, but they were on their way. Still, Nick behaved just as he had when he’d been poor. His meal of choice was bologna sandwiches and he didn’t even own a car, choosing to bum Jazz’s or Harper’s catering truck though he could very well afford his own. Oblivion’s band van from the old days had finally stopped running, and so Nick had resorted to grabbing rides.
Basically, he didn’t resemble anyone she’d ever known—in any way.
“Yes, I know you have a past with Gray.” She made a show of unclasping and reclasping her purse rather than meeting his eyes. She really had no desire to think about Nick’s threesome days with Jazz and Gray.
Threesomes. Who did stuff like that?
Rock stars. It was a very rock star thing to do.
The fact that her own sex life was much more staid didn’t hold much bearing. She wasn’t a musician. She’d never even held a guitar. Oh, they fascinated her. They held such power and magic. But she knew her own skill set lived in planners and behind a desk. She hadn’t been born to make music, just to corral and help hone those who had.
Like Nick, of the quick, talented fingers and sulky mouth. He had magic, all right. Too much for his own good. And hers.
She also hadn’t been born to have threesomes, judging from her very lackluster sexual past. Her future wasn’t looking much better.
That was just fine. She didn’t need to have threesomes to be satisfied. Sure, she had some curiosity, but she also had curiosity about skydiving and had never sought to participate in a high rise jump.
Long shafts of any sort were best to be avoided at all costs.
Nick cleared his throat. “Well, not with Gray so much, but with Jasmine, yes.”
There was that too, how he referred to Jazz asJasminewith that huskiness in his voice, as if he was reliving fond memories every time. Likely fond naked memories.
She was probably just imagining things, just envisioning ghosts where none existed. Jazz was about to get married to Gray, and Nick certainly didn’t seem to be nursing a broken heart.
Still, she wondered.
She wondered about that storied threesome, and how it was they could’ve come together so explosively and yet broken up with relatively little fanfare—minus the tabloid action, which continued to this very day. But all press was good press, especially for a band on the rise, so she didn’t attempt to squelch it. Not that she could. Love triangles were the fuel to everyone’s fantasies. Messy, dirty, but lots of women didn’t mind the idea of being the eye of two very sexy guitarists’ storm. At least in theory.
“Yes, well, Jasmine is getting married, and you know, that means the past is buried and dead.”
That lone brow lifted one more time, though his smirk never faltered. “Thank you for that update. And here I was still carrying a torch for the preggo bride-to-be.”
