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Yes, I’m totally laughing over my own joke.
She had the deadbolt to her door latched before I reached mine. And my left hand and I became well acquainted a few times over, just as we have for the last few months. I finally passed out as the sun rose, completely unsatisfied but content knowing she wasn’t either.
I’m a dick. Bite me.
“Start with something easy. Something you’re all comfortable with,” I tell her.
Her mouth twists, and I see the nerves building. I stand up and walk toward the stage. My index finger waves her over as I stand below her. Her mouth puckers, wanting to refuse, but she doesn’t because, right now, she needs me. So she walks to the edge of the platform and drops to her knees. “This is just to see how you vibe with each other. There’s no pressure.”
“I didn’t have to do this for the studio band.” She looks over her shoulder and back at me. “I feel like I’m intruding or something,” she whispers.
“Since when have you given a single fuck about intruding on anything?” Her eyes roll, but she doesn’t argue. “They’re a band without a singer or a direction. They won’t make it far without either. Maybe you’re that for them.” Her lips pucker, and it takes serious willpower not to drag them to mine. My finger circles her face. “You’ve got to stop doing that before I embarrass the hell out of you,” I tell her quietly. Her expression turns to annoyance, and I groan because it’s not any better. “I get it. No one wants to feel like the third wheel.” I look over her shoulder at the four guys standing with their instruments. “Or fifth, but this is why they are here. They want to audition for you. They want you to pick them.”
“Fine.” She blows out a hard breath, making her hair fly from her face. “Anything?” I nod and step back.
She goes to the band, and I stand there with my arms folded across my chest, glaring at the drummer, who won’t stop staring at her ass. “Hey, you.” All their eyes snap to mine. I lift a hand and point, singling out the smirking drummer. “Keep your eyes and what is floating in that Cro-Magnon skull of yours on the drums and off her tits and ass.”
“You should mind your own business,” Lily snaps, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment, looking ready to take a dive at me from the stage.
“You are my business, baby.” I wink, then take a seat at the table, front and center.
She whispers something to the lead guitarist, who nods. The music starts as a smug smile lifts her lips. My laughter is loud the second I recognize their arrangement of Not a Second Time by The Beatles. Even with the heavier guitars and her falsetto echoing through the bar, she glares.
They follow up with You Can’t Always Get What You Want as Maverick sits next to me. “She’s almost as good as her brother.”
I wince, closing one eye, realizing this fucker knew who we were the whole time. He catches my expression and laughs. “Thought I wouldn’t notice her? She’s kind of famous. Can’t fucking scroll TikTok without seeing one of her videos, including quite a few with a certain band.”
“We were hoping you wouldn’t realize. They didn’t want you to say no because of… history.”
“I won’t. I’m not saying anything yet, but I won’t hold anything against them—him.”
“Her taste in music is like her brother’s, too.” I nod toward her. “Do me a favor. It will happen, but don’t compare her to Angel. It’s kind of a sore spot for her.”
He shrugs and nods. “Understandable.” He lowers his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Can you imagine being Maddox’s sibling?” He says something else under his breath that I miss before shaking his head. “You got it bad for her, huh?”
“Something like that.”
His eyes cut to me when Heartbreaker starts. “I get the feeling it’s not mutual.”
“Oh, it’s mutual.”
His brows raise as Lily glares, holding up her middle finger and licking it. “You sure about that?”
When the song ends, she stands there, waiting for me to say something. She looks less than convinced these guys are for her, and I’m inclined to agree. But maybe it’s the song choices. I know she has Angel’s love of oldies and classic rock, but that’s nothing like Lily’s music. Right now, they sound like nothing more than a cover band.
“Hey, babe.” Lightning shoots from her eyes, making my skin tingle. I love pushing her buttons lately. I have a newfound appreciation for why she always took such pleasure in pushing mine. The reaction is intoxicating. The fire and passion it invokes, even if angry or frustrated, makes you feel alive. That’s all Lily has ever wanted. To feel alive. “How ‘bout you guys play something from this century, yeah?”
“Dude,” Maverick leans over and whispers from the side of his mouth, “my balls just shriveled from that look on her face. That is the look of a serial killer, not love.”
“Trust me,” I laugh. “She loves me.”
When the first note leaves her mouth, his head snaps to me. His eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and awe as his brows kiss his forehead.
I squeeze one eye shut with a wince as I Miss The Misery flows from the speakers. “Okay. It’s possible she hates me a little.” I meet her fury-filled gaze, imagining all the dirty things I can do to punish her for the hate-filled look as she sings directly to me. Electricity crackles in the air. Heat brushes my skin as my tongue darts over my lips.
And she follows its path with her eyes.
“But she loves me more.”
