Page 47 of For One Night Only

Me:No, I got this. I’m getting paid really well for this concert, you know.

Cameron:I’m sure you are, but this isn’t just your responsibility. Hell, it should be Mom’s responsibility.

It should be, but we both know Mom can’t do it. I’m sure these auditions could be taped instead of in person, but I want Carrie to have every edge she can get.

That’s why I’m here—so my baby sister can pursue her dreams.

Me:Okay. We’ll talk more when I get home.

I run a hand through my hair. Cam and Leah shouldn’t have to help. I never should have run through all my Glitter Bats money. God, if I’d hired a financial advisor like Keeley did, maybe none ofmy family would have to work now, even with those criminal royalty rates.

Cameron:Sounds good. Love you.

Me:I love you too. Kiss Sebastian Bark for me.

I let out a long, slow breath, trying to focus on the day ahead. So I brush my teeth and style my hair and try to remind myself this is all an act. Just as I’m finishing getting ready, there’s a soft knock on the door between rooms.

“Come in,” I call.

Valerie slips inside. “Good morning,” she murmurs, her hands wrapped around a water bottle.

“Good morning,” I say back. Anddamn, the way she’s smiling shyly at me almost knocks me off my feet.

At practice yesterday she was just wearing a hoodie and leggings, but we’re back to the rock star look—she’s in an oversized white tee, ripped black jeans, and combat boots, with a bunch of leather bracelets on her wrists. She’s playing up her eyeliner with a knife-sharp cat eye, and it makes her look a little mischievous and a whole lot sexy.

When she was on the other side of this door, I could almost believe those feelings weren’t real. Now, with her looking like a dream right in front of me, I don’t know what to think. So I just try to act casual. Valerie’s got enough going on—she doesn’t need to deal with all of my feelings.

“Ready to head down to brunch? Wade’s coming by so we can all talk,” she says.

I blink. “Oh. What about?”

She bites her lip, frowning. “Business.”

That’s ominous, but I know I’ll find out soon enough. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Wait. Is that all you’re wearing?” Valerie strides over to my chair and grabs the leather jacket I draped over the back. She offers it to me. “Wear this too.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s like eighty degrees out.”

She pouts, fluttering her lashes dramatically as she looks at me with doe eyes. “For the aesthetic? Please?”

And damn it if thatpleasedoesn’t turn me on all over again. I definitely still can’t say no to Valerie, especially when she begs. Utterly powerless to resist, I reach out to take the jacket from her. Our fingers brush. My hands ache with the need to touch her again.

So I hurry to put the damn jacket on before I can do anything stupid. I clear my throat. “Fine, you win.”

Valerie puts her hands on her hips, stepping back. She assesses me, eyes slowly considering every piece of my haphazard outfit: Docs, jeans, a too-tight T-shirt. I warm under her scrutinizing gaze.

“You checking me out?” I ask, trying to sound casual despite the hoarseness in my voice.

“Do you have a problem with that?” she asks, eyes sparkling.

I reach a hand to my neck. “No.”

“Good. Had to make sure you’re pretty for any cameras. Let’s go.” And with that, she leads the way out of my room.

Dazed, I follow her through the door and down to breakfast.

There’s something public about brunch at a fancy restaurant in LA, and the hotel restaurant is one of the fanciest. Even the wrap I ordered from room service last week was decadent. The dining room is buzzing when we arrive, but I’m grateful when the host leads us to a private room.

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