Page 42 of Filthy Rock Stars

“Just a couple of study buddies,” I joke again, although I do take the time to throw my sunglasses back on and get my scarf ready, just in case we are spotted.

Prince grins, and I smooth his shirt for him. “If you had been my study buddy in school,” he tells me, “I’m pretty sure I would have failed my classes.”

“Then who would I have cheated off of?”

He scrunches his lips to the side. “I wasn’t going to let you cheat off me in the first place.”

I scowl. “Rude,” I joke.

“Are you going back to your work?” he asks. “Or are you done with your horrible bosses for the day?”

I’m still regretting my choice to call Elle and Adrian my bosses when I’m talking about Forbidden Destiny with Prince, mainly because it’s uncomfortably accurate.

“I’m wiped the fuck out,” I tell him. “I’m heading home to crash.”

“Yeah,” he agrees as we slowly start toward the stairs. “Me, too. I need to chill before my trip.” He rubs his hand over his hair. “At least it’sStar Treknight.”

“Hell yeah,” I agree. “I am planting my ass on the couch.”

Prince laughs. “Exactly.”

We look at each other, then look away. The opportunity is hovering right there between us. Obvious. Bare. I should invite him to watch the damn TV show with me. Prince should come back to my loft, curl up against me, and we can chill like a couple of normal people would.

It’s what we both want, and not being able to say it makes me feel like an awkward teenager with a painfully crushing crush.

He hitches his backpack on his shoulder. I expect this to be the end of that conversation, but again, Prince surprises me.

“Maybe we could watch it together sometime?” he asks softly.

I swallow. His voice is so careful, but it wavers, need breaking through.

Fuck, that hurts me.

Maybe I am a bad guy. Maybe I’m selfish as the rest of the band and rude as my family. Because I know better, but I still say what I want to say.

“Like a date?”

“If you want to call it that.” When I glance, Prince is fidgeting with his shirt. “No pressure.” His voice picks up with nerves. “I don’t even know where we’d watch it. I’m not trying to invite myself to your house or anything. I’ve just been having a lot of luck putting myself out there lately, and I was thinking it, so I asked it, so—”

“Hey,” I say, my hand on his back as I cut him off. “It’s cool. I’m glad you asked.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. And maybe when we’re back from our trips, you and I can have a proper date.”

A smile fills Prince’s face. “Cool.”

“Cool,” I agree. And for just a second, in our weird alternative reality, it almost seems that easy.

But in the pit of my stomach, a sinking sensation reminds me of the truth.

I’m falling for Prince. Tumbling and crashing flat on my fucking face, in fact.

But he would never fall for the real me.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

NICO

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