Page 91 of How to Love a Rockstar

I debate how to answer. Do I let him off the hook? Or do I let him suffer longer?

“Sorry about what?” Dylan asks before I can finish my internal debate.

“Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t think.”

Gibson snorts. “Do you ever think?”

“Hey! I’m not stupid.”

Fender grunts.

“What?”

“You have to admit it was kind of stupid to enter the horseback combat competition,” Gibson says.

“Horseback combat competition?” I ask.

Gibson rolls his eyes. “Mr. Daredevil here decided to enter a jousting competition.”

“Except he’d never ridden a horse before,” Cash adds.

“Despite the rules of the competition clearly stating it was not for beginner riders,” Dylan explains.

Jett crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand how this is stupid. So, I forgot to read the competition rules? No one reads those things.”

Dylan points at him. “But you refused to withdraw from the competition when you arrived and realized you needed to know how to canter before you can joust.”

“What’s the big deal? I didn’t get hurt.”

“But you did get your ass kicked,” Fender rumbles.

Gibson waves his phone at Jett. “And I’ve got the footage to prove it.”

“You can’t blackmail me with that footage forever. You’re not exactly innocent yourself.”

“Maybe not, but at least I’m smart enough not to be videoed.”

Jett stalks toward Gibson. Before he can reach him, Dylan’s there to separate them. “No one will be fighting in Virginia’s apartment. Nod if you understand.”

Gibson nods and steps back. Jett grunts.

“I’m hungry,” Fender says.

“I can make breakfast.” I start toward the kitchen but Dylan snatches my wrist to stop me.

“You aren’t making breakfast.”

“But I’m hungry, too,” Gibson pouts.

Dylan points to the door. “Go have breakfast at the diner. There’s no need for you to stay here. You’ve done what you came to do. You checked that Virginia is okay. Jett apologized. We made fun of him. Time for everyone to get out.”

Indigo grins. “We’ll get out. In fact, we’re going swimming. You’re coming with.”

“Swimming?”

“But I’m not going skinny dipping.”

My brow wrinkles. “Why would we go skinny dipping?”

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