Page 3 of How to Catch a Rockstar

“And?” I push because pushing is what I do best.

Jett glares at me but he can’t hold my glare for long. Not to brag but I have the best ‘stare down a rockstar glare’ there is. I could probably teach classes and make a million dollars. Except most people don’t want to stare down a rockstar.

“The paparazzi found out where I was and rushed the house,” he finally admits.

“And what happened to your companion?”

He ducks his chin. “The press wasn’t nice to her.”

I nod to Nurse Luna. “And now you understand why I can’t allow him to go home with you.”

“Can’t allow him?” She snorts. “You’re not his keeper.”

I kind of am. But if the paparazzi don’t scare her, it’s time to try another tactic. I whip a non-disclosure agreement out of my bag. “I’m going to have to insist you sign this.”

Her nose wrinkles and she steps back.

I shake the document at her. “Sorry, honey. It’s nothing personal, but it is mandatory.”

She snatches the paper and reads the first line. “Non-disclosure agreement? You want me to sign this?” she asks Jett.

He shrugs. “The pleasure of doing business with me.”

“But it says I can’t tell anyone about you.” She flips through the pages. “I can’t post a picture of you on social media. I can’t even tell my friends I had sex with a rockstar.”

I hold out a pen. “It’s standard boilerplate in the industry. I’m sure you understand.”

She throws the agreement at me. “No thanks.” She marches out of the room.

I wait until the door shuts on her before addressing Jett. “What happened?”

“You were being your usual bitch self.”

I lock my muscles before I cringe at his use of the word bitch. It’s not the first time he’s called me one. And it won’t be the last. Being a personal assistant to a rock band is full of fun times.

I point to his forehead and repeat my question. “What happened?”

“It’s no big deal.”

I sigh. I determine what’s a big deal and what isn’t. Not him.

“Was the press there? Did anyone notice you? What kind of media circus am I dealing with?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and I bite my bottom lip as I imagine—

Stop it, Aurora. You are not ogling the man when he’s in a hospital bed. Correction. You are not ogling the man. Period. End of discussion.

“All you care about is your job. What about me and my injuries?”

I snort. “Considering you just tried to pick up the nurse, I think you’re fine.”

He grins. “She was pretty hot, wasn’t she?”

Luna was blonde and had legs up to my neck. In other words, we have nothing in common. I ignore the twinge of jealousy in my stomach. I’ve had enough experience ignoring it by now.

“She was definitely your type,” I mutter as I pull up the entertainment news on my phone.

I should know better by now than to ask the universe if things could get worse.

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