Page 9 of Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar

We all laugh, the tension in the car easing a bit. As I join in, I can't help but think how lucky I am to be part of this group.

Carmen, sitting in the passenger seat, clears her throat. "Alright, boys, let's focus. Remember, this interview is crucial for promoting the upcoming tour. Jace, try to keep your answers concise. Donny, please don't go off on any drum solo analogies. Evan, it's okay to mention your family, but let's keep the focus on the band. And Brent..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Be charming but not too charming," Brent finishes with a wink.

I shake my head, grinning despite myself. Same old Brent. If only he knew what was really going on in my head right now.

Carmen jumps out of the car first at the talk show back entrance, her polite smile already plastered on her face even though it’s just us outside. She waves at us, then immediately reaches for the door and ushers us through a long, dark hallway. It doesn’t take long to find the space where everyone is getting ready, makeup being brushed on the faces of the Sweet Surrender guys, and I shiver uncomfortably.

The one thing I will never miss when I retire from this industry is the makeup they force us to wear during interviews. Never made any sense to me, but I’ve learned not to question it too much.

One of them grunts in objection when an artist walks up to him, narrowing his eyes at her like she personally assaulted him, and she immediately flinches away from him to move on to the next guy.

I wish I could do that.

“Lookin’ good, boys,” a voice sing-songs behind me, heels clicking in her wake as she walks closer to our group.

When I turn around, I have to do a double take just to make sure it’s not my mind playing tricks on me — I’ve been thinking about her long enough. I blink, staring at her, and she glances at me before coming to a stop in front of Sweet Surrender with a smile.

“What the—” I bite back the rest of my words, my heart pounding. Mallory. Here. Looking like that. This can’t be happening.

Brent frowns at my question and furrows his brows at me. “Is there a problem?”

I shake my head, turning my attention back to Mallory, who looks like a wet dream come true — a tight skirt that touches the top of her knees yet still showcases her luscious curves, red fuck-me heels any man would be an idiot to tell her to take off, and hair pulled up in an updo that shows off the curve of her neck.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

For a moment, I think about running my tongue along it just as I did the night we spent together, but Trevor, the lead singer, grins at her, and I get this brief moment of jealousy that surges through my bloodstream. I clench my fists together, then storm away from the group before I end up doing something stupid, like punching the stupid grin from his face.

Heavy footsteps fall behind me, and a hand lands on my shoulder before spinning me around. Donny is standing there, a frown on his face and head cocked to the side. “Hey, man, you okay?”

“Great, just jitters over the interviews,” I mutter.

Carmen struts over to us, not sparing a glance at Donny standing in front of me, and shoves a paper at my chest with a manicured finger pointed at my chest. “Read it, memorize it, and kill it with these interview questions. Hopefully, it’s the last one before the concert, or I’ll go crazy from sleep deprivation.”

Donny frowns as she says the words, but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before she hurries away to give the rest of the guys the same paper.

“Hey,” Donny says, nudging me. “You sure everything’s okay?”

I glance at him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugs and looks back toward the group. “I don’t know, you looked pretty pissed back there.”

“Nah, just caught off-guard seeing Brent’s little sister here. Did you know she was going to be working for Sweet Surrender?”

“Don’t really care to know shit like that, but I remember Brent telling me she got a job that would really change the trajectory of her career.” He smirks, then claps my back in a friendly way. “This must’ve been what he was talking about.”

“Jace, get over here. They’re going to be ready for you guys in five minutes,” Carmen hisses from across the room, that same nail angled toward a seat in front of the makeup artist waiting for me.

It doesn’t take long for her to brush my skin with some sort of powder, and then I’m standing up with the rest of the guys and heading toward the brightly lit room. There’s a large couch, which can fit Raising Havoc on it easily, then a row of stools situated behind it for Sweet Surrender.

Once we’re all seated, the host, Deanna Jankins, comes strutting onto the platform with an eye-catching smile that reminds me of why she does so well. If I were the many people sitting in front of my television, I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off her either.

Even though she’s got these beautiful blonde locks that skate down her spine, curling at the ends, and her blouse showcases the outline of her breasts, I can’t stop my gaze from falling backstage where the curtains reside.

Mallory is standing there, chewing on the inside of her cheek from nerves, and she locks eyes with me as if she can sense my stare on her. I can hear muffled voices surrounding me, likely Deanna asking a question that everyone else answers, but it all fades away as we continue staring at each other.

My heart rate spikes up and I grip the arm of the couch I’m sitting on. Only when I’m nudged do I snap out of my trance and realize everyone is staring at me, waiting for my answer.

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