Page 7 of Chasing Kings

“You guys have an awards ceremony the same week as Valentine’s Day?”

“Sure, why not? Don’t people still watch porn on romantic holidays?”

“That’s perverse.” She laughed when she said it.

“Have you already forgotten what industry I’m in?”

Sam plopped down on the couch, sliding to the far end and keeping her arms crossed over her chest, blocking a perfectly good view of her boobs. When she sat, her polo stretched, showing a little belly. Nothing crazy, but a sign she didn’t spend her days in transit between the gym and a rental house filming location.

Ethan liked his women with some meat on them. Industry girls tended to be too bony, and it felt like fucking an IKEA end table. Sam looked healthy, and he was betting she could withstand a good, hard—

“Scotch,” she said. “Straight up. Please.”

Damn, he liked her already. The tight-laced ones tended to be a real good time. Once he got beyond the prim-and-proper front, there was usually a bad girl lurking under the surface. He was betting Sam had an inner bad girl even she didn’t know about.

“Sure.” He found the bar and poured them each a glass of scotch, before sitting directly in front of her on the leather ottoman.

She seemed nervous, like she couldn’t decide how to move out of his reach without coming across as rude. “There are other seats,” she pointed out.

“I like this one.”

“Are you flirting wit

h me?” With the scotch tumbler in her hands, she couldn’t cover her mouth and pretend she wasn’t smirking.

“If you have to ask, I’m not doing a very good job of it.”

“Didn’t you come here to have sex with someone else?”

Ethan shrugged. He sometimes forgot how relationship rules worked in the outside world. Within the industry it was normal for friends to have sex without any emotion attached. Sex without commitment was his job description, so it was easy to extend that into his personal life.

Plus, sex with Kelly hadn’t been his ultimate goal in coming to Vegas. He was more interested in the money she owed him. But he couldn’t explain that to this Samantha without things getting complicated, so he said, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Charming.” Sam sipped her scotch, wincing.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“I don’t know you,” she countered.

“No, you don’t. But trust me, I’m a nice guy.”

“You think so?”

“I got you a drink, didn’t I?”

“Ah, yes. A regular Sir Galahad, aren’t you?”

“Galahad was chaste, so no.” Ethan winked, drinking in her shocked expression with glee. “I went to Stanford for two years. How do you like me now?”

Samantha got a handle on her face and stared into her drink. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I get it. Why would anyone smart get into a business like this, right?”

“I didn’t mean… Actually you know what, yes. Why would you? I mean, Stanford is an amazing school. You could have gotten a job anywhere.”

“But why? Why be a banker or a lawyer if that’s not what I was passionate about? What do you do?”

“I own a bookstore.”

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