Page 39 of What Happened Last Night

“Does he watch porn?”

My jaw dropped. “I have no idea.”

Katie nodded. “You can tell a lot about a man by the kind of porn he watches. If he isn’t dating, he’s watching porn.”

“I can’t ask my boss if he watches porn,” I said, a little too loudly. One of the other women in the salon turned her head.

“Don’t you have access to his laptop?” Katie asked practically, bending over my nails again. “Maybe you can find out that way.”

Yes, I had access to Will’s laptop. But it was his work laptop. He wouldn’t—

Now I had the image in my head of Will watching porn on his work laptop, then leaning back, unzipping his pants, and—

My mouth was dry. “Forget the porn,” I managed to say. “Please.”

“Fine, but keep it in mind.” She paused her work and looked up at me, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Enough talk about boys. A karaoke place opened up a few doors down, and the girls and I are going after we close. Want to come?”

Our gazes locked. The last time Katie and I sang karaoke, we’d had too much wine and sang “22” until we lost our voices. It was the law that you were allowed to sing “22” no matter how old you were.

I’d had the hangover from hell and I hadn’t been able to talk the next day. It had been worth it.

I grinned back at her. “I’m in.”

EIGHTEEN

Will

The meeting in Seattle stretched into another, then another. I stayed overnight and did a second day. I’d had an idea, and as I fleshed it out, I needed to talk to more people. I booked the meetings myself, getting Luna to reschedule whatever I needed.

I didn’t tell Luna this idea, not yet. We didn’t talk much, and when we did, it was only about business. We didn’t discuss the kiss in her closet or the unicorn. If she hated the gift or thought the note was inappropriate, she didn’t let on.

I wasn’t avoiding her. But I’d had time to think, and though I regretted nothing about Sunday, I also needed to be professional. Luna and I needed to be on an even keel. She needed to trust me, trust that I wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable or cross any lines. She needed to be certain that no matter what had happened between us, I regarded her with respect.

Because she could not quit. That was the most important thing—Luna could not quit.

On Wednesday, we met at RKS. The Midwest tour had been a sold-out success, and the Road Kings were home, in their usual post-tour good spirits. There wouldn’t be another tour for at least six months now, probably longer. Neal and Raine’s baby was almost due, and we all needed to regroup.

Luna and I sat on one of the sofas in the songwriting room with laptops in our laps. Our conversation was polite and professional, as if I hadn’t kissed her senseless three days ago. As if I hadn’t had my hands on her hips, her waist. As if I hadn’t tasted her skin.

My resolve wavered, and I risked a glance at her to see that she was looking at me. Our eyes met, and her cheeks reddened. We needed to bring it up. I tried to come up with the right words.

Luna spoke first. “The unicorn’s name is Seamus,” she said. “I thought you should know.”

That set me back. “Why is he Irish? Are unicorns Irish?”

“I have no idea.” She shrugged. “But when I looked into his eyes, that was the name that came to me, so that’s who he is.”

I bit the inside of my lip. “Did you put him under the window?”

“I did, yes.”

“Did you put a plant in him?”

Luna lifted her chin. “One does not simply put any plant in Seamus, Will. It’s either exactly the right plant or nothing. I’ll need time to make a careful selection.”

I fought to keep a straight face. “I’m glad he’s being treated with dignity,” I said gravely. “It’s what he deserves.”

Her eyes sparkled, and I didn’t get to hear what she was going to say next, because familiar shouts came down the hall, and then the band was upon us.

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