Page 21 of Final Serenade

“We are.” Frankie’s eyes smiled along with his mouth and my body shook. I’d fallen for his subtle sex appeal like Alice down the rabbit hole. Every part of me buzzed with tension.

I pulled my top back up and squirmed in my spot. My legs were cramping and my heart drummed a wild beat.

“The party’s out there, you know.” Dante motioned at the door, then staggered to the couch and sat next to me. When hot alcohol breath skated across my neck, I shivered.

“It’s too crowded,” Frankie explained, bringing his glass to his lips. The fabric of his shirt stretched tightly over his biceps. His every move was another nail in the coffin of my self-control. The man radiated sex.

“What are you doing, darlin’?” Dante’s arm snaked over my shoulder. He was a hugger. He was also drunk, which made me think of the pepper spray in the front pocket of my pants. I wasn’t sure why. This get-together we were having was pretty civilized. No foul words were said. Except for the ones that left my mouth when my knee didn’t agree with the couch.

“Just showing off our new ink,” Frankie said.

“You too?” Dante’s face turned to me. He was happily wasted. His eyes were two dark orbs and his hat was missing.

“Yes. I got a new one too.” I nodded, my head a vibrating black hole. Blood hit my temples so hard, I could barely hear myself speaking.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he slurred.

“I am.”

Everything about this moment was bizarre. I was sitting in a room with two of the most popular rock musicians in the world and despite the strange tension their presence created, I didn’t feel intimidated.

Hot and bothered. That’s what I was. Which I blamed Levi for. Ever since he’d pitched me the idea of getting laid, it had refused to leave my brain. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept with someone, let alone gone on a date. Come to think of it, dates didn’t even make it on the list of things I needed to experience. My life was currently an endless string of events, write-ups, interviews, and too much caffeine. And I happened to like it.

My crazy schedule didn’t give me time to worry about the things I was missing. The things other twenty-five-year-olds were doing while I chased my next big story.

Right now, that story sat in a chair five feet away from me and oozed sex.

It was pure torture and my pheromones couldn’t take it anymore.

I pushed myself off the couch and rubbed my screaming knee. “Gentlemen”—my head spun—“it was a pleasure, but unfortunately, nature calls. Will you please tell me where the restroom is?”

I couldn’t see Dante, but I felt Frankie’s gaze. It lasered up and down my body slowly until our eyes met.

“First door on the left.” He jerked his chin toward the hallway.

“Thank you for the company.” I smoothed my palms over my pants to iron out the creases and saw my way out.

Sensible Cassy understood he might not take her seriously, but drunk Cassy figured, why not? Ignoring the response to my earlier question, I typed,Are you busy?

Then I waited. Levi was always my first choice when I entered a temporary damsel-in-distress state, but today, I didn’t feel like calling Levi. I needed a man. Hot, raw, and willing to blow off some steam with me.

Jax seemed to be the right guy for the job.

I hid in the bathroom. My bladder was happy; my ovaries weren’t. The aftertaste of Frankie’s cologne still ruled my system. In a nutshell, the whole conversation with the golden boy of hard rock messed with my existence and I seriously considered getting myself off.

My phone pinged.

Jax: Finishing up at the shop.

I know this might seem very random, but could you give me a ride home?

I waited some more. The time dragged on like a church sermon.

Jax: Sure. Where are you?

Good question. Based on the grandeur views of the hillside properties Dante’s place overlooked, I knew I was somewhere near either West Hollywood or Beverly Hills, but of course, no one had given me the actual address.

I pulled up Google Maps, pinned my current location, and sent it Jax, hoping it was accurate.

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