Page 94 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

She pushed her bright strawberry curls out of her face, her bluebell eyes so damn earnest. “No, it’s a separate bar in the penthouse.”

“Now that is what I’m talking about.” Zane threw Teagan over his shoulder. He gave a wolf howl and ran down the ramp to the backstage.

Cooper stared after them, his eyes narrowed.

Huh.

He fisted his hand, his knuckles cracking. Which, hello, after all that drumming should be near impossible. Well, that was new.

Jamie glanced at me. “Do they really have a penthouse thing?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t even been to the hotel yet.”

“Oh, right. Miss solo artist.”

I rolled my eyes. “Go shower and I’ll remind you why you can’t get rid of me.”

Jamie’s dark eyes lit with glee. I was probably going to regret this, but it was better than her sulking.

Afterward, I’d most likely end up trying to match her shot for shot with something eighty-proof. God help me.

I avoided the chaos of backstage. Between the crew and our opening act, there were just so many people everywhere. I needed a second to quiet my brain. Everything was way too buzzy after a show like that.

After I closed myself into the closet-sized dressing room, I stripped out of my costume. I wanted a shower, but I still had a little bit of Nash on my skin. I wasn’t altogether sure I wanted to wash that away.

Hmm, now there was an idea.

I grabbed my phone, flipped my hair back, and raised it for a little risqué selfie. In fact, the little marks he’d left behind on my neck were in full view along my collarbone and shoulder. Our stage makeup was top of the line, but we’d put on quite the concert.

I wasn’t stupid enough to go full nude. I trusted Nash, but there were just too many ways that shit could go sideways. A lifetime of paparazzi trouble in my history could attest to that.

Before I could think too hard about it, I sent off the photo to him and shoved my phone back into my bag. I didn’t want to stare at it to see if he replied. Far better to be pleasantly surprised if he did.

I pulled on one of my ancient sweatshirts that fell off my shoulder and my comfortable jeans. And because I had a few too many physical reminders from my new…lover, I’d have to make some repairs. That was kind of a lame name for him, but we were so new and jagged. Lust and wild emotions tangled around us both like an overgrown bramble bush.

I pulled out my makeup bag and dabbed at the little bruises with my miracle foundation. It could cover up damn near anything. I patted a little pressed powder on the marks, and they became almost invisible. I still needed a damn shower, but again, I wasn’t ready to rid myself of all the reminders of such an intense day.

In all possible ways.

I stuffed my songbook into my bag and headed back into the hallway. Jamie was waiting for me with Molly, Denver, Elle, and Juliet.

Fuck, I was screwed.

This crew would get me into trouble tonight.

Twenty-One

When I saw the group of girls waiting in the hall outside my dressing room, I knew shenanigans were sure to follow.

I grinned at Denver. “How’s the ankle?”

Denver, Ryan’s wife and driver for Warning Sign, swung her big walking cast boot. “Better than my shoulder was for a week. Thanks for filling in for me on short notice.”

“No problem. Sorry you missed the wedding.”

“Ryan strapped me down. I didn’t have much choice.”

“I heard you like that kind of thing,” Molly quipped.

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