Page 31 of Filthy Rock Stars

I shake the hurt away. “Fine. I’ll hang out long enough to say hi to bigmouth Billy Prosser, but then I’m out, and you’re taking that fucking neon down while I’m here.”

He points his beer at me. “You’re a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?”

“I wonder where I got it.”

He lets out a raspy laugh. “Okay, okay. I’ll take the damn sign down. For fuck’s sake.”

“Good.” I slide onto of his big leather couches and find a bag of pretzels waiting for me, which I immediately dig into. “See? Compromise. It’s a beautiful thing.”

He ignores me and switches topics, telling me about the orange truck that’s parked up front. It’s not my thing. My interest has always started and ended with a good motorcycle. But Ron is my dad, and it makes him happy, so whatever.

I settle in and listen to him ramble. We annoy each other for a while, but all afternoon, I actually let it slide a little easier, I’m so distracted thinking about Prince.

There’s a whole city full of places to fuck and a guy I can’t stop dreaming about waiting back in Seattle. Who cares how annoying Ron or Adrian or anyone else is?

The second I get my hands on Prince, the rest of the world disappears anyway.

CHAPTERNINE

NICO

Solo thrusthis fingers into me, milking my spot as I orgasm. My pants are around my knees, and I’m sprawled out on the hard rooftop, the sun shining down and my first orgasm still dripping from Solo’s face.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp and grab his wrist, the full sensation pulsing around his hard fingers.

He grins and crawls up on me, then slowly drags his fingers out. “Can’t imagine a better rooftop to fuck on.”

I laugh, high from sex. We’re on a warehouse, not far from downtown but it’s the tallest building in sight, giving us privacy. I scouted it out myself, and maybe it’s the orgasm talking, but the way Solo gets all swoony about loving the spot strikes me as deeply romantic.

I find the wet wipes that I’ve taken to carrying with me for our dates. “It is a lovely roof,” I agree, cleaning myself. “And thank you again for meeting me so quickly.”

“Hey, you got time to kill, you call me.”

Solo rolls onto his back as I fix my clothes. His uneven haircut is growing out, and he’s wearing a thermal gray shirt that clings to his muscles.

He’s so handsome. It’s still kind of shocking. His face is composed of these fascinating angles, sharp lines, and sculpted beauty, punctuated by the metal of his ring and studs.

He glances around. “Maybe we’ll have to come back. I imagine we could have a rave up here or a pro wrestling match, and no one would notice.”

I googled the business extensively and did a little walk around the building before we came up, just to be safe, so I know he’s right.

“Isn’t total privacy like this thrilling?”

He laughs. “Yeah, it is. I never thought of it before.”

“Where I grew up, crowded suburbs, there wasn’t any privacy. There was always someone around.”

“Small town in the middle of nowhere. Easy to find peace and quiet, just not at home,” he says. A frown tugs at his features, but he shakes it away and turns his eyes to the sky. “Although you never know who could be watching up there. Aliens or satellites or anyone.”

I laugh and roll against him. “Now that would creep me out.”

“Spy satellites?”

“No, aliens.”

He scoffs. “You’re scared of aliens? I love aliens. They’re so weird. It’s the satellites that freak me out.”

“I’m not scared of aliens,” I object. “I love aliens, too. But actual aliens watching me, specifically? Hell no. What’s that about? Why do they care?”

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