Page 32 of Flirting with Trouble

“I said outside the bedroom,” Jamison says.

“Yeah, and?” I laugh.

“You’re hopeless,” Jamison says.

I hold my hands palm up. “I can’t help it if she likes having dirty sex with me outside the bedroom. What am I supposed to do with this information anyway?”

“Use it to get to know her,” Jamison says. “To find some common ground other than sex.”

“You say that like good sex is a bad thing,” Archer says.

“No, I don’t,” Jamison insists. “I say it like there’s more to a woman than what she has to offer sexually.”

“No shit. That’s why I’m interested in her. For all the other things about her. She’s smart, and strong, and snarky, but she won’t give me the time of day to show her as much. Shit. Never mind. This is useless. Let’s just get back to the game.” I head over to the table.

“You sure?” Grant says. “I’m sure we can figure it out if we try.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” I feel Grant watching me as we take our seats.

“Women are complicated creatures, but you’re a great guy, Wells. She’ll come around.” Brant claps a hand on my shoulder. “And if she doesn’t, a puppy works wonders.”

Chapter Eight

Victory

I’ve been in the studio in Los Angeles for most of the afternoon listening to the Tuck Wilder Band record their first album. They sound incredible, just as I knew they would. Tuck and two of his bandmates gained a following when the band they previously played with, Surge, opened for Johnny Bad’s final concert tour. That was a favor for Jillian. Surge was fantastic, and I tried to sign them, but the lead singer had only done the tour so her bandmates could gain exposure. She and the keyboardist, who’s married with small children, wanted nothing to do with stardom. I don’t blame them. Celebrity life isn’t for everyone, and once you’re in it, it’s very hard to reclaim your privacy. But signing Tuck and his bandmates was a no-brainer for me. They were a small-town band without the means to go farther, and I have loved every second of helping them soar.

These guys are young and attractive, and they know how to put on a show. Tuck, the lead guitarist and singer, is a soulful twentysomething with rich light brown skin, longish dark hair, and an air of mystery that fans can’t get enough of. They’re going to blow this album out of the water. If only I could concentrate on that, instead of the lyrics he’s singing.

As he sings about a woman who tastes like tequila living rent-free in his head and being unable to forget the feel of her skin and the sound of her voice, all I can think about is Wells. I don’t want to think about him. I don’t want to remember how he tastes or the way he seduced me with little more than words, much less the way he made me laugh and feel more than I’ve felt in years. But the lyrics don’t lie.

I close my eyes

Push you away

But you keep showing up

Like a song on replay

My phone vibrates in my skirt pocket, startling me. I pull it out and see Leni’s calling. I’ve been avoiding her calls for two days, which isn’t fair. It’s not like she knows I hooked up with Wells, but I still feel funny for sleeping with a guy she went out with—even though it was a lifetime ago.

I leave the studio and answer the call as I walk down the hall, heading for the exit. “Hi, Leni. Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. I’m in LA, and it’s been a little chaotic.”

“That’s okay. You told me you’d be traveling when we had drinks last Thursday.”

“Oh, right.” Why does it feel like that was a month ago?

“Has the band started recording yet?”

“Yes, and they’re amazing. With the marketing and PR Shea has lined up, these guys are going to shoot straight to the top.”

“Let’s hope so. How are you doing?”

The way she asked, like she knows I have a secret, makes me a little nervous, and I walk farther away from the building. “Fine. Good. You know, busy. How about you?”

“I’m doing well, thanks, but I’m curious about a call I got on Friday.”

“From who?”