Reed and I laugh. “Bring it on,” I say, and I see Andi smirking at us from across the room.
Every time I’ve looked at her since getting here, I see her smiling at one of us from behind the lens. She’s fucking sexy in her faux leather jacket, baggy band tee, leggings, and combat boots.
That goddamn smirk will be the last thing I see before I die, that much I know.
She’s finally settled on the bench instead of moving around, and as the DJ pauses to play our latest release, I see him swivel in his chair toward her. I recognize the leer in his eyes when he stares at her. He’s been checking her out since she started moving around the room for better angles of us talking.
The predatory gaze makes my jaw tick.
“Did you make sure to get my good side?” he asks her.
Andi gives him a polite smile. “Sure,” she replies.
“Will you be stalking them all week?” he asks her.
“All week,” she replies.
“You work for Heartless?”
Andi nods, replying, “Yep,” and presses her face behind the lens as if she isn’t interested in engaging. She takes another photo of Reed and starts scrolling through the images on the back of the camera.
The DJ keeps trying.
“Share the results,” he says. “Let’s see if you’re any good.”
Andi lets her wrists cross in her lap and glares at the DJ with a fake smile on her lips that nearly makes me chuckle.
I know that fucking look.
“I work for one of the top PR firms in the nation for the top rock recording company, on assignment with the hottest band on alt radio on one of the biggest weeks of their careers. So, yeah, I’m pretty damn good at my fucking job.”
Reed elbows me in the side, and it’s obvious he’s trying to hold in his laughter, too.
It takes Paul a moment to find amusement in her words and not surprise, and when he does, he beams. “Man, when they say women aren’t taking shit anymore, they mean it.” He turns back to me and Reed. “Matched with a girl last week who insisted on picking up the tab. It was nice.”
“You like assertive women, Paul?” Reed asks.
“Fucking love it,” Paul answers. “Nothing wrong with a girl who isn’t, but damn. Something about that bratty mouth and I-don’t-need-you attitude makes me feel all tingly.”
The light flashes in the booth, and Paul signals for us to put our headphones back on.
As Paul reintroduces us and goes through the concert spill again, I open my messages to a number I’ve never used before.
Having fun yet?I type.
Andi looks down at her phone when it lights up, and her eyes narrow at the screen.
It’s Mads, I text her.
Her eyes flicker up to mine. The corner of her lips twitch upward as she sets her camera down at her side before replying.
Time of my life, she says.
Want me to kick his ass?
Andi audibly scoffs, her gaze drifting to me again.He’s harmless. I’ve met worse.
Thanks for the socks, by the way. Though, you sneaking into the pool house while I was asleep is pretty stalker-ish.
