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By the chorus of his newest hit, she was squeezing her legs together, squirming to try to ease the signals her body was sending. You want him. You want him so badly you are wet and trembling. You want to take him to bed and lose your tiny mind over him and then maybe you can get through the rest of this tour without having a lust aneurism.

She lifted her heels off the floor, contracting her stomach and lower abs as Jay appeared to lock eyes with her right before he took his bow and they went to commercial break.

“You okay?” Errol asked.

No, no, she was not okay, her head was spinning, her heart was racing, she was flushed and overcome and a whole lot annoyed with herself for what she was about to do. “I’m fine, but I have to bolt.” I have to go do something wild and irresponsible.

She managed to skip through station security and get backstage before Jay finished saying his goodbyes to the show’s host. She was waiting for him as he handed his guitar off to one of World’s End’s techs and accepted a bottle of water and a hand towel as he headed for the exit, where his car was waiting.

“Can I have a word with you?” she said.

He dragged the towel over his face, “I’m not going to cut any of Grips vital parts off.”

“It’s not about Grip.” She backed up, going into the empty makeup room. He followed, tossing the towel in a laundry basket as she sat in one of the hairdresser’s swivel chairs. “It’s not about Lost Property or the tour or any official business we have. I don’t need a favor.”

“You’re moving straight to blackmail?”

She might’ve deserved that. “It’s about us.”

“The us that isn’t anything anymore,” he said, frowning.

Really should’ve messaged Teela and had her talk me out of this. Too late. “If I’m not mistaken, the us that still feels a physical attraction.” If she was, she’d nope out, no harm, no foul. She’d drown the epic embarrassment in tubs of ice cream.

Jay broke the seal on his water bottle. The little snap crackle of the plastic breaking was ominous. He took a swig and she swallowed hard and crossed her legs, swung the top one as if she had balls of steel and a titanium-plated ego. She planned a trip to the supermarket freezer aisle.

When he lowered the bottle he said, “You’re not wrong.”

Feeling stupidly relieved, she blew out a stream of air. “I have a proposition for you?”

He took another sip and put the bottle on a counter. “Let’s hear it.”

“We should fuck.”

Jay cocked his head to one side, his eyes widening. “Go on.”

That wasn’t a rejection, but it wasn’t a street parade either. “Get it out of our system.”

“Because?”

Aw hell. He’d been the one to suggest this first. If the heat, the push and pull between them wasn’t obvious to him, how was she supposed to explain it? She looked away momentarily stumped.

“Yes,” he said.

His grin was the first thing she refocused on. It reminded her of how great a kisser he was and how his kisses changed the course of her life. “We need rules.”

“Smart.” He made a come-on gesture with his fingers. “You first.”

“We’re one and done. We keep it quiet. No one else needs to know.”

“No.”

She uncrossed her legs and sat forward. “What do you mean, no?” She couldn’t crash and burn now.

“I agree we keep it on the lowdown but I’m not up for one and done with you. I already know that won’t be enough.”

She was a hit it and run specialist, but for Jay that rule was worth breaking and he was only here ten weeks and that was hardly long-term. Still. “I don’t do—

He cut her off. “Make an exception.”


Tags: Ainslie Paton The One Romance