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“Prove it.”
“What?”
He stepped forward, holding his hand out. “I want to be entertained, too. Let’s watch together.”
“Dean—”
“What?” He was enjoying this way too damn much. “What don’t you want me to see?”
He stopped a few feet away, that smirk playing on his face. That same one in 4k on that video was alive and well right in front of me, the realization doing strange and funny things to me.
Like making me want a rock star.
I closed my eyes, wishing it all away.
His hand closed gently over mine, carefully sliding my fingers away with a laugh of utter and complete amusement. I opened one eye to find him standing before me.
“Just tell me…”
“Fine. You.”
“Me, huh? What am I doing?” He stroked the stubble on his chin. “And better question, how hot do I look to get you this flustered?”
“Damnit, it’s you on stage. Happy?”
“I’m always happy on stage.”
I peered into those melting brown eyes and sighed into resignation, holding my phone out, then fell back on the bed. Maybe if I was lucky, I’d will myself into oblivion right there on the covers.
He took the phone, studying the screen.
“Oh, yeah, last show in LA a few weeks ago.” He nodded, studying the video then hit pause. “You go to shows?”
“What?”
“Shows, concerts. Do you go?”
“Sometimes.”
“You want to come?”
I blinked.
He looked back. “To a show. To be clear, to a show.” He moved to leave.
I bit back a small laugh. “I’d love to go to a show.”
He nodded.
I cleared my throat. “My phone?” I asked, holding my hand out.
“Oh…right.” He handed it over, then turned to go. “Sweet dreams.” He winked, and with a hearty laugh, left my room.
Chapter Seven
D
ean
