“They’re amazing, right?”
“Unbelievable,” Grey agreed. He turned fully toward her and offered his hand.
“I’m Max.”
“Grey.”
He leaned forward, frowning, as the crowd cheered louder.
“Grace?”
“Grey. Like the color.”
Her lips were practically touching his ear as she shouted to be heard over the din. His eyes lit up in comprehension, and he leaned back again.
“Grey!Got it. Nice to meet you. So how do you know Andromeda?”
“My friend Kamilah—” Grey looked behind her to point to Kamilah, who had conveniently disappeared. “Well, I’m not sure where she is right now. But she’s dating Andromeda, and she does all their video stuff.” She gestured at the screen behind Andromeda. Max looked suitably impressed. “What about you?”
“See the guitarist?” He pointed to an angular man to Andromeda’s left. “That’s my brother.”
Grey oohed and aahed, inching slightly closer to him. He nodded at her drink, which was now mostly ice.
“What are you drinking? Can I get you another?”
“Vodka soda, please,” she said, flashing her most charming grin.
“You got it.”
He headed toward the bar. Grey turned to see Kamilah immersed in conversation with a group of three or four people, but when they made eye contact, she excused herself and made her way back over.
“So?” she asked, eyes flicking over to Max, busy at the bar.
“I don’t know, we barely even said anything. He says the guitarist’s his brother?”
“Ohhhh, sothat’sZane’s brother. You know he’s, like, twenty-two, right? You little cradle robber.”
“Relax, I’m not planning on ever seeing his crib.”
Kamilah laughed and returned to her conversation. Grey didn’t even have to look to know that Max was behind her with their drinks. She accepted hers with gratitude, and they went back to the railing.
“So, what are you into?”
Grey frowned. “What?”
“Like, what do you do?”
“Oh. I’m an actress. Unemployed, right now.”
“Oh, nice. Anything I’ve seen?”
Grey hated that question, even under normal circumstances. She always had to bite her tongue to stop from responding,How should I know?Now, with her recent X-rated output, the question was even more loaded. She played it safe, going with her usual (unfortunately accurate) answer, “Probably not.”
Max’s face fell in disappointment. It seemed genuine, so Grey chose to believe that he was oblivious.
“What about you?” she asked quickly.
“I’m a musician, too,” he said, gesturing his head at the stage. Grey cringed internally. She’d gotten over her musician phase in high school, when her boyfriend had dumped her after she’d been cast in an off-Broadway play, rendering her too busy to sit on the couch in his friend’s basement every afternoon and make eyes at him during rehearsal like his bandmates’ girlfriends.
