Page 35 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

She sashays away, leaving me to my own personal hell of watching Harrison’s hands on Lila’s waist. He’s holding her too close, whispering something that makes her laugh—thatfull, throaty laugh I used to hear across our deck at night. The one I haven’t heard in a while.

I down my whiskey in one burning gulp, signaling for another.

“Easy there, Luke.” Nate materializes beside me.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.” He follows my gaze to where Harrison is spinning Lila in a graceful turn. “You know he’s got connections at every major publication in North Florida, right? Could be good for her business.”

“Or he could be looking to add another notch to his belt,” I growl.

Nate raises an eyebrow. “And that would be your business because...?”

Because she’s mine, the thought comes unbidden, dangerous in its intensity. Except she’s not mine. I made sure of that when I let Marcus dictate my life—when I chose obligation over what my heart really wants.

“I need some air,” I mutter.

But instead of heading to the terrace, I find myself stationed near the entrance watching as Harrison monopolizesLila’s attention, as his hands drift lower on her back, and she again tilts her head back, laughing at some witty remark of his.

I’ve been standing there too long, staring at them like an idiot, when I see Lila excuse herself. She says something to James, her hand brushing his arm lightly before she walks toward the far side of the room. I watch as she heads for the hallway, slipping through the door that leads to the powder room.

Without thinking, I set my drink down on the nearest table and follow her.

The hallway is quieter, the noise of the party fading as I move farther from the ballroom. Finding the door leading to the stairwell, I lean against the wall to wait for Lila.

A few minutes later, I catch sight of her. Just as she exits the powder room, my pulse quickens. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I should go back, find Crystal, and pretend I didn’t just spend the last hour watching another woman. But I can’t.

Just before Lila reaches the entrance to the ballroom, I catch her arm, pulling her into the private stairwell. She gasps as I crowd her against the wall, one hand braced beside her head.

“Luke! What are you—“

“He’s using you,” I say roughly. “You know that, right? Using your business aspirations to get close to you.”

“So what if he is?” Her hazel eyes flash. “At least that’s better than what you’re doing. Right?”

The accusation hits like a physical blow because she’s right. What am I doing? What right do I have to feel this surge of jealousy, this desperate need to stake a claim?

“I—“ I start, but she cuts me off.

“No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to play my protector while you’re out there with Crystal, looking like society’s next power couple.”

“It’s not what you think,” I say, even though I don’t exactly know what it is anymore.

“Isn’t it?” Her eyes narrow. She glances at my arm, penning her in, then up at me. “You’re here with a date.”

“That’s different,” I snap before I can stop myself.

Her laugh is sharp, almost bitter. “Different how? Because you’re ‘seeing’ Crystal? Because she fits into your world? Or is it just different because yousay so?”

“It’s different because I can’t stop thinking about you,” I say, my voice rough. “Even when I’m with her, even when I know I shouldn’t, you’re all I think about.”

My hands go out and roughly pull Lila toward me, crushing her lips with mine. She goes straight to my head, and the whole world tilts, and I forget where we are. All I’m aware of is the soft, lush woman in my arms. Her scent, her warmth. Still keeping her pressed against the wall, I lean my weight on her, my hands roaming her generous curves.

Bending down, I press my mouth against her neck as I growl out her name, “Lila.”

I cup her breast through her gown, feeling its weight in my palm. My thumb rubs her nipple through the silk fabric, feeling it pebble. While my other hand roams from her waist over the curve of her ass, grinding her against me, letting her feel my body’s hard response. My mouth goes back to ravishing hers while I deftly gather the length of her skirt in my free hand, pulling it up around her waist. My other hand leaves her breast to delve between her thighs, finding her hot core.

I press my fingers in a circulator motion against the crotch of her panties, increasing the pressure with each pass.

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