Page 92 of One Last Verse

The compliment didn’t go unnoticed. Hannah Montana wannabe grabbed his shirt and attempted to pull him back to her. He didn’t budge.

I stopped and tried not to laugh at the scene in front of me. “Thank you.”

“Is Frankie-boy here?” Dante drew the girl’s hand from his jeans and shooed her away. She strode off with a sour expression.

“He’s not coming.”

“What? Why?” Brows knitted, he moved closer. The unbuttoned top of his black shirt revealed a good portion of his chest. He wasn’t as finely cut as Frank, but he had something even better—the dark, bad boy sex appeal that made women crazy.

“Are you seriously asking me this question after you put up a billboard-sized photo of Marshall Burns next to the album artwork Frank created?”

The space between us shrank to a couple of feet. I caught the smell of cigarettes and alcohol on his breath.

“Cassy, darlin’.” Dante rested his hand on my shoulder. “I did the best I could. I called. I emailed. I came over. You know what he did? He told me to go to hell. I guess we’ll be meeting again there then.”

“You do know the age of consent in California is eighteen?”

Confused, he lifted his brow.

“How old is the girl?”

His face relaxed. “She’s legal.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why are you so worried about me, darlin’? Don’t you have a man to be worried about?”

“Because you’re drunk and because you need someone to tell you this shit.”

Dante slid his palm down my shoulder. “Frankie-boy is a lucky guy. If he hadn’t asked you out first, I would have asked you out myself.” A lopsided grin touched his lips.

A nervous laugh escaped my throat. “When was the last time you actually asked someone out?”

With a potent expression in his eyes, he took his hand off my elbow and raked it over his dark, messy hair. “Umm, maybe 2009.”

“You really are out of practice.”

“I don’t need to chase women. They usually chase me.”

“Spoken like a true douchebag.”

“Why do you hate me so much, Cassy?”

“Okay, you’re way off here, buddy.” I held up my palm. “I don’t hate you. Hate is a very strong word, but I don’t like what you did to Frank and how you did it.”

“You know I had no say in it.”

“I know you, Johnny, and Carter didn’t fight back when KBC decided to fire Frank. You just stood and watched the label tear him apart.”

“You know nothing about our contracts.”

“I don’t need to know about contracts. You’re a coward.”

“I’m here to play a fucking guitar, darlin’. I don’t want to play with fucking fire and wait for some asshole in a suit to decide my future.”

“You won’t have a future if you keep burning through your present like you’re some immortal god.”

“Tell that to Frankie-boy. He was the one who pulled the plug on your charity project. Where is he now that I’m trying to save this fucking sinking ship?”

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