Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I don’t believe you,” I said. “Look, what we did cannot happen again, especially if we’re going to be working together. So you need to put it out of your mind.”
He laughed like he was amused, but it was tinted with bitterness. “Yeah, right. Forget it then. I’m not interested in auditioning.”
What the actual fuck? “Because I won’t sleep with you?” Anger flared inside my belly. “If you’re too scared, man up to it. Don’t try to use me as an excuse.”
Oh, he didn’t like that. His posture went stiff, and his eyes narrowed. “I’m not using you as an excuse.” He dipped down to grab the strap of his guitar bag and jerked it up onto his shoulder, before shooting me a dark look. “I’m a lot younger and you were married, and it was wrong, but . . . shit. I wanted this for a long time. And then it happened, and it was even better than I thought it’d be.”
It felt as if he’d picked me up and flipped me upside down. I didn’t know where to look or what to do, but the weaker I became, the more he seemed to strengthen.
“And now,” his tone was sour, “you’re saying it can never happen again. I couldn’t stop thinking about you before any of this, how the hell am I supposed to now? And work with you on top of it?”
It was like I was standing on ice. Any move I’d make would be precarious. I couldn’t latch onto thoughts or process what he was saying. “What?”
“You can’t be my manager,” he said. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
I was too dumbstruck to do anything other than watch him stride to the door, yank it open, and walk through it without another word to me.
EIGHT
Troy
I parked my Jeep on the street in front of Erika’s house and turned off the engine, but I couldn’t make myself get out of the seat. Eventually the heat would get to me and force me out, but I need another minute to prepare. It was Tuesday, which meant I’d need to go inside her pool house.
Last time I had, it’d been one of my fantasies come to life.
Don’t think about it.
Because if I did I’d get hard, and I was frustrated enough already.
She’d sent me a text yesterday.
Erika: Can we set up a meeting? I’d like to talk.
My answer was straight to the point.
Me: No.
If I took a meeting with her, she’d fill my brain with ideas. I’d see record deals, and music videos, and thousands of fans screaming my name—when none of that was going to happen. I’d dreamed big once and failed so hard, I’d learned my lesson.
Hopefully.
Yeah, she’d said she’d believe in me enough for the both of us . . . but I was still gun-shy. And I figured, why risk getting burned again for nothing? At least with her, I had a chance. She’d opened the door, so I wasn’t going to leave until she told me to. She wanted me to audition and I wanted her. That seemed pretty fucking simple to me.
I needed to get her to say yes.
The sun was baking me, so I shoved open my door, climbed out of the Jeep, and trudged toward her gate. When I climbed the hill of her backyard, I sensed I wasn’t alone. She was already home?
Erika had been waiting for me, judging by the two glasses of iced tea that sat on the patio table. The ice inside them had melted, making the top half of the glasses look watery.
I pulled to a stop and was glad she couldn’t see my eyes behind my sunglasses. It meant I could stare. I could take in every gorgeous inch of her. She was wearing white pants and a pretty blue top, looking like she’d just come from work.
“Troy,” she said, her tone soft and warm. “Can we talk?”
I let out a breath as I considered her question. She’d told me I shouldn’t get within striking distance of her because she was dangerous, and I was starting to think she may have been right.
She could be like Coach Parker all over again, promising me everything I wanted to hear. Telling me my dreams could come true, when it was all bullshit.
But I was smarter this time, or at least older. She wanted me bad enough to wait for me, so I could hear her out. I strode toward the table and grabbed a chair. “Yeah, sure.”
She gestured toward the sweating glass in front of me. “You want some tea? I can get more ice.”
“No, it’s fine.” My tone was guarded. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You,” she said. “You told me I don’t know a thing about you, and you’re right. Can we fix that?”
My shoulders pulled back at her unexpected statement. “Uh . . . I guess.”