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He throws his head back and laughs. Innocently closing the small distance between us, Flynn moves to stand next to me at the rail. When his arm brushes against mine, every hair on my body stands up and welcomes the close proximity.

“Leather pants,” he murmurs, then sips his drink. “I hope you know you’re killing me.”

Somehow, I knew he’d remember the conversation we had. I change the subject before he asks if I wore them on purpose. My skin isn’t good at lying. “You know, if you spend too much time out here with me, the blonde who was hanging on you might find another rockstar inside.”

“Oh yeah. Does that work both ways? If I spend too much time out here, is it possible you’ll find a new rockstar, too?” The shy, yet completely irresistible boyish smirk is back. Lord, it’s even more dangerous up close. I need to get out of here before I forget which rockstar I came with. Actually, now that I remember, I came here alone.

“There you are!” The curtain parts and the blonde who was wrapped around Flynn shrieks. She eyes me up and then snuggles close to him, her hands possessively attaching themselves to him from behind.

Suddenly, I feel like a third wheel. And yet I have the urge to peel the woman’s hands off him at the same time. “I should get back. Thank you for the drink.” I force a smile and turn toward the curtain-clad set of double doors.

“Wait.” He reaches for my arm and I turn back. A few awkward heartbeats pass and then a goofy smile lights up his face. He stopped me from leaving as if he had something to say, but now is drawing a blank. “Umm,” he fishes for something. “This is Lucky,” he introduces me to the blonde. “Lucky, this is…” He totally has no idea what her name is, even though she’s been hanging on him for the last few hours.

Blondie takes his cue, not looking even remotely offended. “Kylie.”

Figures.

“Nice to meet you, Kylie,” I say.

Ignoring me completely now, she focuses her attention on Flynn, who has turned his body in my direction. Not garnering the response she seeks, she walks around to face him, effectively standing between the two of us, her back to me. “I was hoping for just me and you. But if you want a three-way, can we make it a four-way? My friend would love to join, too.”

My eyes flash with irritation at her assumption. Yet Flynn takes her offer in perfect stride—as if an offer for a threesome, or foursome for that matter, is an everyday occurrence. He rubs his hands up and down Blondie’s arms, more soothing than enticing. “Thanks, maybe another time.” He looks to me apologetically.

With only a roll of my eyes as a parting gesture, I turn to make my way back into the party. I don’t belong out here with Flynn anyway. Not when the man I’ve dreamed about for half my life is waiting for me inside, and he’s leaving to go back on tour tomorrow.

Chapter Seven

Flynn

“Fucker needs to get a damn coffee pot,” I grumble, grabbing a container of orange juice from the top shelf of the fridge. I lift, expecting weight, but it’s light as air. Shaking it up and down, there’s no swish of juice inside. Of course.

A warm hand on my bare back surprises me. “Morning,” a come-hither voice purrs. I turn to find a naked woman. She’s tall, only an inch or two shorter than me, probably almost six feet, with bleached blond spiky hair and tan skin. Her body is toned and sinewy, not generally my type, but damn if she isn’t sexy as hell.

“Morning. Nolan still sleeping?”

“He snores.”

I chuckle. “No shit. Try sleeping on a bus with him. The shake from his snore is worse than the vibration of the engine. He also doesn’t have a coffee pot.”

“You’re Flynn, right?”

“I am.”

Naked Woman pours herself a glass of water and drinks it, then refills it and offers the glass to me. I take it and guzzle down half of it.

“I like the rain, Flynn,” she says in a husky voice as she presses her palms against my bare chest. I’m wearing boxer briefs, didn’t bother to slip on the pants I left next to the couch when I crashed last night. It was quiet when I let myself in; I assumed Nolan was alone or not home yet.

“Don’t think it’s supposed to rain today.”

She reaches down and squeezes a handful of my morning wood. “You can make it rain. Golden showers in the morning bring sunshine the rest of the day.”

I choke on the last mouthful of water. “Ummm…thanks, but I have to run.” As in, run the fuck out of this place. I take a few steps toward the couch to collect my things, and can’t help myself. “You know, Nolan loves to be woken up with a heavy rain.”

The woman’s eyes glimmer with excitement and she hurriedly retreats toward the bedroom. Nolan knows how to pick ‘em. I’d better disappear quickly; he’s going to kick my ass after getting woken up by a warm stream of yellow on his face that isn’t sunshine.

I stop by Becca’s and hang with Laney for a few hours before grabbing a quick shower. I trade my usual coffee in for hot tea in an attempt to soothe my raw throat. It’s on fire from the smoky after-party that made the label’s Easy Ryder album release party seem like a party full of priests.

Unlike most nights lately, I went home alone at the end of the party. Although it definitely wasn’t for lack of opportunity. The Easy Ryder guys may have ten years on us, their groupies are older, but it doesn’t mean things have slowed for them by any means. Just the opposite, in fact. The smokin’ hot thirty-somethings are more aggressive than the barely legal women who tend to follow In Like Flynn around.

I walk into Pulse Records right at three. Afternoon appointments for musicians tend to be a given. Today Nolan and I are being introduced to our practice manager—the person assigned to keep our asses in line as we get ready to join the Wylde Ryde tour. She won’t have any problem with In Like Flynn showing up for the practice schedule she sets, but I hope she’s got thick skin with Nolan and the rest of the guys.

Nolan strides in looking like what he is—severely hung over, maybe even still drunk. Tabby, the practice manager, takes one look at him and tells him she’s going to get him a protein shake.

“How was your morning?” Lounging back in my chair, I link my fingers together behind my head and settle in to enjoy the entertainment.

Nolan groans. “I’m not sure if night ended and morning actually began yet.”

“Usually, I call morning anything after I take a shower. I feel like my morning shower is a rebirth of sorts. Almost like a christening.”

Nolan shoots me a look that tells me he knows I’m up to something, yet he’s still in the dark about what the hell it is. “What the fuck is up with you today?”

“Nothing.” My face gives away that I’m full of shit.

A few minutes, later Tabby comes back in with Nolan’s shake. “Ready to get started?”

“I’m sorry. I need to hit the restroom before we get started. Can you just give me a minute, Tabby?”

“Sure, of course. No problem. Nolan and I will get to know each other.”

“You sure you don’t have to go, Nolan?” I ask as I unfold from my chair.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t take a piss on your own now?” Hung over and suspicious equates to a short fuse for my longtime friend and bass player.


Tags: Vi Keeland Life on Stage Romance