Page 51 of I Need You Tonight
“You don’t have to walk so far behind us,” he said with that damn sexy smirk he did so well.
“I’m just an employee. And I don’t want your fans to get the wrong idea and think I’m romantically linked to one of you.” A large number of them were probably disappointed that Nolan’s and Jared’s hearts had already been claimed. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”
“I’m sure they can handle it.”
I laughed as the other guys stepped onto the elevator. “Never underestimate a girl’s heart, especially when it comes to her favorite musician or actor.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And you speak from experience?”
“Hey, are you two coming or what?” Kirk called from the elevator.
“Sure,” I said in answer to Mason’s question as we strode over to join the rest of the band. Well, more like Mason strode; I jogged to keep up with him. “I’ve had my heart broken when my favorite lead singer got married. I had harbored unrealistic expectations that he would see me at a concert and fall undeniably in love with me. His marriage left me devastated for weeks.”
Mason stopped abruptly and the guys in the elevator groaned.
“We’ll see you upstairs,” Kirk said, and the doors closed, leaving us behind.
Mason spun around to face me, his back to the elevator. “You serious?”
The corners of my mouth twitched. “Of course not. I crushed on him and he fell in love with some model. I moved on with my life.” And, two months later, so did he—after he and his new wife split up.
I pushed the up button for the elevator. “But the point is, some girls are so infatuated with their crush that they get upset when the guy becomes unavailable. I don’t wish to be the cause of some poor girl’s broken heart when the reason it broke isn’t true.”
At his doubtful expression, I laughed. “There’s a lot you still have to learn about girls.”
“I know plenty.” He smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile or a panty-dropping smile. It was a smile full of smugness.
Inwardly I rolled my eyes. “I don’t mean how to give women orgasms.”
The door to the second elevator opened, and a man in a business suit stepped out, talking on his phone. He didn’t give us a second glance; clearly his conversation was that riveting.
“I wasn’t even thinking that,” Mason said.
Maybe I would have believed that if the smug smile hadn’t still been on his face.
I stepped inside the elevator. Mason followed, his body too close for comfort. Damn, how long would it take me to become immune to him?
I didn’t even have a chance to think about that question. No sooner had the doors closed than I found myself pressed up against the wall, Mason’s mouth against mine.
Turned out I wasn’t the only one who had an issue with willpower.
I knew I should stop it. That would be the smart thing to do. But my brain and my body apparently weren’t on speaking terms. I parted my lips and let his tongue invade my mouth. If we were lucky, the elevator would get stuck and we would have to stay in here for the next few hours, kissing.
The bell pinged as the door opened. Someone standing outside coughed. And we continued kissing, Mason’s fingers knotted in my hair.
The person coughed again.He really should see a doctor.
A moment later, the bell pinged a second time. “Fourth floor,” announced a voice from beside us.
A voice in the back of my head pointed out that this was important. I couldn’t for the life of me remember why.
“You two getting off or not?” This time the voice was laced was impatience—just the bucket of cold water I needed.
I reluctantly pulled away from Mason and flashed the stranger a big grin. “Thanks.” Without waiting for my partner in crime, I stepped off the elevator…and practically crashed into a woman my age.
Her long blond hair was pulled back in a perky ponytail. She was wearing a pair of black pants that skimmed her body and an ultra-chic blouse. Her soft suede black ankle boots complemented the outfit perfectly. At least she didn’t look like she had been sitting in a tour bus for the past seven hours.
Nor did she look like she’d just been making out in the elevator.
Trying not to look obvious about it, I ran my hand over my hair, doing my best to fix the mess. The other hand did its best to straighten my clothes.
“Hi, I’m Erin,” she said, sounding like a cheerleader on caffeine. “They’re waiting for you in the studio.” She turned enough for me to spot her intern ID, and she flashed Mason a big grin. She then sashayed down the hallway, leaving us to follow her.
The rest of the band was setting up when we entered the studio. Each man had a microphone and headphones in front of him on the long table. I introduced myself to the DJs, then outlined what topics they could ask questions on and which were strictly off-limits and would ultimately end the interview. I did my best to look intimidating, but it’s hard to come across as daunting when you’re short enough to have to look up at the people you’re talking to.
I really needed to start wearing heels.
