Page 16 of How to Catch a Rockstar

He rolls his eyes. “Did you finally find a woman to lower her standards for you?”

“Don’t be jealous I’m winning.”

Gibson and I have a bet going about who can sleep with the most women. Even though Gibson stopped sleeping around when he met Mercy, he’s winning. He can get a woman to drop her panties in two seconds flat.

And I haven’t been sleeping around as much as I pretend. Not when there’s only one woman, I want to bury myself in. I shove those thoughts away. Aurora and I had our fling. It’s over. I don’t do permanent, and she’s got wife-material written all over her.

“What the hell, Jett?” Cash asks. “We were worried about you.” Cash is the lead singer for Cash & the Sinners. The name kind of gives it away.

“With good reason.” Dylan waves toward my head. Dylan is the lead guitarist for the band. He’s also the peacemaker. It’s funny he thinks he can stop us from causing hell. His efforts only make me want to cause more trouble.

Gibson steps closer to study my face. “What the hell happened? And why didn’t you contact us?”

I waggle my eyebrows. “I had company.” And I didn’t want them to give me a hard time about getting hurt yet again. Getting hurt is my superpower.

Gibson crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me. “You still should have contacted us.”

“It was fine. One night in the hospital was all.”

“You were in the hospital and didn’t let us know? What the hell, Jett? I’m your emergency contact. I should have been informed.”

Aurora is actually my emergency contact, but I don’t want to bring her name up. They don’t need to know what Aurora and I got up to. Since they’ve all fallen in love – gag – they’ve become matchmakers. Nobody’s matchmaking me.

“Do I need to repeat myself? I wasn’t alone.”

Fender grunts. Fender is the bass player for the band. He’s also in competition for the grumpiest person alive. Love has mellowed him somewhat but he’s still a grump.

“What happened?” Dylan asks.

“I hit my head.”

He sighs. “I can see you hit your head. How did it happen?”

“I fell while surfing. I got a new scar and a concussion as a participation prize.”

“Are you trying to break the record on how many concussions a person can get?” Gibson asks.

“Nah. I don’t play football.”

“If you’re done gossiping, can we start the meet and greet?” Mike checks his watch. “Which is now officially thirty minutes off schedule.”

“I thought Aurora was the one who had a hard-on for schedules,” Gibson jokes.

Aurora. Damn it. I really screwed things up with her. I wish I could be what she needs. But I can’t. There are no picket fences in my future. And there certainly won’t be any children. I don’t know how to be a dad.

Mike ushers us forward and we line up behind him. We walk through the sound room. “Ready?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before opening the door.

Immediately the crowd starts to chant. Sinners! Sinners! Sinners!

I throw my hands in the air in the sign of the devil’s horn. “Who’s ready to meet and greet me?”

Women rush toward me and the security team forms a circle around me to protect me from being crushed.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy after your concussion?” Gibson shouts.

A woman bats her eyelashes at me. “I can take care of you. I’m a nurse.”

I ignore the gurgle of disgust at the idea of any woman other than Aurora touching me and waggle my eyebrows. “I always did enjoy playing doctor.”

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