Page 12 of A Little Broken

“Is Herb short for cayenne pepper or…?” Her nose wrinkles. “Because he isspicy.”

I bite back my mirth. “Glad he could give you a run for your money.”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far,” she quips. “Although, now that you mention it, I think you owe me.”

“Oh, I do?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums. “The question is, what do I want? I guess I could always ask for an introduction, but that almost seems too easy, considering I spent the last hour under lock and key.”

“To be fair, the door’s wide open,” I point out. “And from what I hear, you already know my bandmates.”

“I meant Doomsday,” she argues.

Figured as much.

“So you don’t deny it,” I return. “Knowing the band.”

“We know Dodge.” She shrugs. “And even then, I knowofDodge. His parents run in the same circles as Rory’s, and Rory’s parents run in the same circles as mine, and…”

“And Dodger’s little sister is practically engaged to one of Tatum’s older sister’s best friends,” Rory chimes in.

“Well, fuck.” I grip the back of the couch but leave plenty of space between me and the girl on the next cushion. “Should I get a notepad so you can draw me a family tree? Or…”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s asked for one,” Tatum mutters. Her sarcasm is as thick as molasses. “We’re all very close in Lockwood Heights.”

“Seems so.” My gaze narrows as I inspect her, searching for clues and analyzing my bullshit meter. It’s quiet. Settling back into the couch, I say, “All right, I’ll buy it. Can you explain why you know my bandmates but didn’t recognize me when I opened the side door for a smoke?”

Rory snorts, then clears her throat and pulls her phone out in an attempt to look preoccupied when we all know she’s shamelessly eavesdropping.

“Just because I know of Dodge doesn’t mean I’m familiar with your band,” Tatum reminds me.

I pull back and rub at my chest, pretending to be wounded by her admission, though honestly, I’m almost impressed. “Ouch.”

“Pretty sure your ego can take the hit,” Tatum muses. “You did good, by the way.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

With a laugh, she asks, “And what did I do?”

“Sat there and looked pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty, huh?”

Mirth dances in her pretty hazel eyes and shoots straight to my groin like before. And fuck, if it isn’t growing. The pull. The curiosity. The intrigue. Bending forward, I let my lips brush against the shell of her ear. It creates the same thick tension itdid when we were on stage just like I’d hoped, and I feed off it, enjoying the push and pull more than she knows. “If I say yes, are you gonna let it go to your head?”

She dips away, peeking up at me through her thick, black lashes. “Maybe.”

My chuckle ruffles the wisps of hair framing her face as I inch even closer. “You’re a confident little thing.”

“Why, thank you.” She peeks up at me again, and I swear I could fucking drown in those pretty little eyes. “Now, I think the real question is…where’s my introduction, Mr. Security?”

“Careful. If you keep calling me that, Judge or Dodge might overhear you.”

“And if they do?” she asks.

“They’ll set you straight. Speaking of which. In the next ten minutes, this room will be swarmed with fans who won backstage passes. Usually, the guys like some quiet time between the show and the meet and greet, but I already know they’re gonna give me shit for pulling a fast one on stage. I might as well introduce them to the reason behind it, right?”

“As in…me?” she offers.

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