Page 77 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

Sarah’s smug voice had me gassing it to swerve around a postal truck. Horns blasted, and I got more than a few middle fingers raised in my direction as I cruised down another side street. I did an illegal U-turn, coming back up the same street in time to pass the fucker on my ass.

I gave Sarah a tight smile. “Got it handled.”

She didn’t reply. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was plotting where to bury my remains.

When we finally strolled into the converted bowling alley-slash-concert venue where we were holding the show, Sarah was muttering about poor security set-ups and improper clearances. I didn’t respond. I had bigger issues.

Like trying to look for Daisy without making it obvious.

I’d been on edge all morning. I didn’t know how to handle this. Normally, I’d freeze her out. I’d done that for the better part of six months. But every time I envisioned her smile and heard her laughter in my head and imagined her squeezing my cock while she gasped my name…

Yeah, cold was not what I felt.

“Nice of you to show up. Think you can answer a goddamn text?” Jamie strolled toward us in her towering bo

ots, her long dark hair swinging from some cone thing on top of her head. Then she stopped dead. “Jesus, you shaved. Without the chin pubes, you lost a decade.”

I set down my guitar case between my feet. “Thanks, Jame. Always full of the compliments.”

“And look at your new hottie.” Jamie eyed Sarah, propping her hands on her hips. “You’ve got a rotation of blonds lately, huh? Shouldn’t shit where you eat.” Jamie shook her head in not-so-mock disapproval. “You know better.”

“This way,” Sarah instructed me as if Jamie hadn’t even spoken.

I wished she hadn’t.

Any other day, Jamie’s razzing wouldn’t have fazed me. But it wasn’t any other day. Along with all the crap with Daisy, heavy black drop cloths were scattered on the floor, and there were stepladders and other signs of work-in-progress all over the place.

“What happened here?”

Jamie shifted her gaze from mine. I recognized her evasive look all too well. “Someone broke in and messed some stuff up. Damaged the bowling lanes, screwed with the equipment, made a mess. Then there was the graffiti—”

“We should go,” Sarah said.

“Wow, a bossy one. Isn’t it a little soon in your relationship for that, sunshine?”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “I’m his bodyguard.”

Jamie’s loud snort nearly caused the guy on the nearest ladder—who was painting the wall in quick, efficient strokes—to lose his footing. He scrambled to hold on while Jamie clapped a hand over her mouth. “Damn. That’s pretty sweet. How come I don’t get a hot one?”

The door opened. Noah strode in, and I stilled, already primed to see Daisy.

She stepped in behind him, with a giant canvas bag over one shoulder and her hair in some intricate updo, and my heart forgot to beat.

Our gazes clashed. The breath stalled out in my throat. I started to speak.

To fucking beg her to forgive me.

She looked through me as if I was a ghost before marching past us, her head held high.

No more than what I deserved.

“Ohhhh,” Jamie said in a low voice. “Ouch. Not an amicable parting. TMZ said you were hot and heavy, but nothing lasts long with our bass boy.”

Daisy came to a halt and turned back. “Mind your own business for a change, DuCaine.”

I didn’t laugh, mainly because I was too shocked. Sweet Daisy had enough backbone to tell off someone who wasn’t me? Damn.

Jamie held up her hands. “Shutting up now.”

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