Page 128 of A Little Broken

Capping the marker, Cooper gives me one more smirk. “Guess that’s my cue. Nice to meet you, Tatum.”

“You, too.” I smile back at him, surprised by the lack of butterflies assaulting my stomach. I mean, it’s Cooper freaking Johnson, and I’m not falling all over myself? Who have I become? Oh, I know. A girl who’s infatuated with a different rockstar. The one still glued to my side. “And thanks again for the concert!”

“Anytime, Tatum.”

As he leaves, Pax turns to me when someone calls his name. It’s another girl. She’s blonde. Her boobs are falling out of her tight red top. It matches her lipstick. The top, not her boobs. That would be weird.

Then again, standing here feels weird, too, when a girl is clearly fawning over the guy beside me. And why wouldn’t she? He’s Paxton Six. Not Pax Turner. Not the guy who held my hair back while I puked my guts out or pinned me to the cupboards in the pantry before shattering my world. He’s Paxton Six.

So, why do I feel so off-balance?

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna track Rory down,” I announce.

Ignoring the girl, Pax drags his hand down my arm, tracing Cooper’s signature. “You sure?”

“Yeah, totally. I don’t want her to feel like the third wheel or anything. You should go,” I urge. “Bask in your rockstar awesomeness.”

“I thought you said I already have a big enough head?”

“You do,” I agree, “But you’re only a rockstar once, right? Go. Have fun. I’ll be…around.”

I know he wants to push back. I can see it in his gaze. Feel it in his fingertips against my bare forearm. Instead, he gives in, surprising me, though I can’t say I’m not disappointed.

“Come find me before you leave,” he tells me.

“Who says I’m going anywhere?”

His gaze flicks from my bare arm to my eyes. “Please, Birthday Girl?”

Damn you and your pleases, Paxton Six.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I murmur, “I’ll, uh, I’ll come find you.”

“Promise?”

I gulp, forcing my head to bob. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

37

TATUM

“Well, if that isn’t the hottest thing on the planet, I don’t know what is,” Rory muses. The stairs probably aren’t the most comfortable place to sit, but they give the best view of the front door, and watching the small audience—most of which are groupies—slowly stumble their way out has been pretty solid entertainment for the past two hours. It’s late, and I’m exhausted. But I promised Pax I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, and for some reason I genuinely can’t fathom, the idea of going back on said promise feels…wrong. But so does tracking the guy down because that feels desperate, and I am many things, but I refuse to let desperate be one of them. So, where does it leave me? With my ass on the stairs with my best friend beside me.

Resting my chin in my hand and my elbow on my knee, I twist toward Rory. “What was the hottest thing on the planet?”

“Pax singing to you.”

“Pax wasn’t?—”

“He totally was,” she argues. “And the song choice?” A quiet whistle slips out of her. “Damn.”

Damn is right. The thought alone is enough to leave me hot and bothered, which is a huge problem if I have any hope ofkeeping my one rule by not sleeping with the guy again. The question is…do I need to? Keep the rule, not sleep with him.

I’ve had it for so long I’m starting to wonder why, and it’s a scary thought.

With my elbows on my knees, I rest my chin in my hands, announcing, “I’m choosing not to overthink it.”

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