Page 7 of A Little Broken

Fantastic.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I wave behind my lower back, silently encouraging Rory to get her butt in gear. Like the obedient girl she is, she plays along without hesitation. As soon as I’m inside, Rory darts through the door, her fingers twisting in front of her. The question is…where do we go from here?

“You sure you know where you’re going?” the security guard asks as if he’s reading my thoughts.

“Yup.” I peek toward both ends of the hallway, debating which way to go. It’s a fifty-fifty chance. Left or right.

Come on, Tate. Pick one.

Left, it is.

I take a step toward the drum beat, praying it leads to where we’re supposed to go.

“That’s where the audience is,” Mr. Security offers.

I freeze and peek back at him.

“Don’t you want to be backstage with your boy toy?” he asks.

Yeah, that’s probably where a groupie would be, isn’t it?

Keeping my expression on lockdown, I counter, “I thought I washistoy, not the other way around. You know, since you said Coop likes his toys and all.”

“Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling you’re good at keeping boys like Coop wrapped around your finger.”

He isn’t wrong. I’m a sucker for leading guys on without giving in. Okay, sometimes I give in but not always. It depends on where my head is and how close I am to the anniversary of Archer’s death. Call me a fickle bitch, but it is what it is.

“Cooper will find me after the set,” I lie. “He likes the chase.”

With a smirk, he folds his arms across his chest. “Don’t we all.”

My lips purse. “Have a good night, Mr. Security.” Giving him my back again, I grab Rory’s hand and start leading us a little further down the hall when a two-hundred pound linebacker in a black shirt rounds the corner.

Another one? Seriously? It’s like we’re trying to break into the Pentagon or something.

When he sees us, his gaze narrows, making my heart thrum faster as I weigh my options. Okay, we can run, or we can…continue lying out our asses and potentially be arrested for trespassing. Not the best way to celebrate my birthday, but hey. At least it’ll be memorable, right? And I sure as shit am not backing down now, since we’ve made it this far.

“Hey!” the behemoth calls. “What are you?—”

“They’re with the band,” Mr. Security announces from behind me.

The linebacker’s attention snaps to him. “You sure they’re legal?”

“Checked their IDs and everything,” Mr. Security confirms. Listening to him lie through his teeth to protect me is kind of…hot. Or maybe I just haven’t been laid recently.

“Of course.” The linebacker’s head dips. “Would you like me to escort them to?—”

“I’ve got it,” Mr. Security tells him.

“Sure thing, Pax.”

Pax.

So he has a name. Interesting.

Part of me wants to face Mr. Security again, simply to taste his name while analyzing whether or not I find it fitting, but I don’t want to push my luck. Not tonight, anyway.

“They’re waiting for you,” the linebacker adds.

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