And damn it if that exact image doesn’t burn itself into my brain, Sam’s suggestion taking on a life of its own as suddenly my handsare no longer in Carter’s hair, but skimming along the sides of his waist, the ridges of his stomach muscles under my thumbs exciting and sensual.
“You’re welcome to—” I try to say, forcing myself to remember Carter isn’t just a handsome man with the intellect to back up his strong jaw and Adonis physique. He’s the guy I have to work with every day. He’s the guy I’m trying to beat. I can’t let my stupid fantasies get the best of me.
Now if only I could control my dreams.
“I’ve got to go or I’m going to be late for my spin class,” Sam says, taking his phone with him as he heads toward the door in his apartment. “Sleep with the man. Send me all the deets. No.” He holds up his hand as I start to speak. “I will accept zero excuses. I don’t care that you work with him, and you can still destroy his company while letting him take you to Pound Town. People do it every day in New York. Don’t deprive me of this.”
And with that, Sam hangs up on me.
I drop my head into my hands, dragging my fingers over my forehead. Sam’s wrong. Of course he is. Sleeping with Carter would be a terrible idea.
“Hey, Kelsey.” Carter’s voice comes from somewhere above me.
The timing couldn’t be worse, considering Sam just reminded my body of every reason it’s been pushing to see what Carter’s hiding under that terrible shirt of his.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his brows rising in concern.
“Sure. Just praying for God to spare me from exasperating people.”
“Ahh. Your sisters?” he guesses.
“I wish. They know not to be quite so annoying. Sam hasn’t learned yet.”
Carter’s expression darkens so briefly, I almost missed it.What’s that about?
“Who’s Sam?”
“He’s JT’s assistant.”
“Oh. I see,” he says before clearing his throat.
“I was hoping he was going to join them all when they came to Australia, but I guess he isn’t going to make it.”
“Ah. That’s a…shame.”
I swivel my head to see what he’s staring at so intently over my shoulder, but there isn’t anything there but your standard hotel lobby photo of old cars at various locations I’m assuming are in Ireland.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” he asks once my gaze is back on him.
I check the time on my phone and nod. “Sure. What’s up? Is everything okay for tonight?”
This is the first leg of the tour where we don’t have a day between concerts to prepare in a new city. We arrived two hours ago, were handed our keys to our hotel rooms by the logistics staff, and we will leave for the security briefing in less than thirty minutes. It’s hectic, to say the least.
Carter lowers his large frame into the small seat in front of me, our knees brushing under the small, circular table between us.
“No. Nothing like that. I think we’re set.”
“Okay,” I say. “Then what’s up?”
“I need to apologize for the othernight.”
I’ve played it so cool. Not a single person could look at the way I’ve handled hearing him say Mitchell Security was going to beat me and say I’ve been anything but professional. Anything but calm, cool, and collected. It doesn’t matter if it was a shot of liquid fire to my gut, I masked it in a way that would make every woman who’s ever worked in a man’s profession proud. No over-the-top emotions here.
“Haven’t we already done this?” I ask, looking him in the eyes—which is a mistake. No, I won’t be distracted by those now.
“Not for the breach incident. For what you overheard me say the other night.”
“No apology necessary. We both know we’re competing. I plan on winning too.”
