I liked his girlfriend, too. What wasn’t to like?
Long butterscotch hair, soft blue eyes, legs for days and that sweet laugh. Danica Vola had a kind nature, she exuded warmth and femininity in a way that made my dick stand at attention, and I knew she couldn’t possibly be as tame as she looked. Bad boys liked good girls, sure. But she was sharing a bed with Ashley Fucking Player every night. The girl’s mind had to be at least half as dirty as his reputation, or why would he be with her?
I knew she’d be there tonight, with him. And what if this time, he didn’t turn me down?
What if she didn’t, either?
What. If.
I’d been dangling on the wings of awhat ifall fucking week.
So I’d showered, shaved, fussed over my hair, deliberated over my choice of underwear—midnight-blue boxer briefs, which I’d been told made my package look “epic”—changed my outfit after I got dressed because the first one was wrong, checked myself in the mirror way too many times in case I missed a spot shaving or whatever, grabbed some condoms, fresh weed, booze and the gift bag, and flew out the door like I was going on a really fucking important date that I’d been looking forward to for half the year.
Not so far from the truth, actually.
But I wasn’t going on a date.
I was meeting up with my lead singer and his woman to go to a Christmas party at our manager’s house, with the rest of our band and a ton of other people.
Even so, as I party-hopped over to Ash and Danica’s place, way too many people asked me why I was so happy, like I was glittering just a little too brightly, even for the holidays. And as soon as I’d dipped into enough festive punch bowls and doled out enough Merry Christmases to not look too damn eager, I jumped into the final cab—the one that would take me to see them. It was barely nine o’clock.
My heart was pumping like I’d just sprinted a half-mile uphill. Maybe because I was pretty damn suresomethingwas about to happen between Ash and his girl and me.
Why? I wasn’tthatstupid.
I had reasons.
That kiss, for one. And despite the fact that I’d been on tour ever since, with my current band, Dirty, and Ash had been here in Vancouver most of the time and I’d barely seen him, the times when I had seen him or talked to him… Ifeltit.
That spark between us.
I wasn’t imagining it that night at the castle. The man’s eyes said even more than his mouth did.
On top of that, Ash had just spent the last week on tour with Dirty, in South America, filling in for Jesse Mayes on guitar, and to say the whole stage and every room he walked into lit up in his presence would not be an exaggeration. Fire erupted in the man’s wake. Mere eye contact with him shot me through with electricity. And anytime I managed to touch him, however “accidentally,” my heart kicked over like I’d been hit with a defibrillator.
The way he looked at me, I knew he was feeling it, too.Somethingwas smoldering between us.
Sure, we’d verbally agreed not to get involved when I signed with the Players, the new band Ash was putting together with his ex-girlfriend, Summer, back in August. But even then, I was leaning into the feeling that something was bound to happen between him and me.
And so what?
Agreeing that the band members didn’t get involved was a solid policy, in theory. But if I wanted someone, I was hardly gonna let anyone, including my bandmates, tell me who I could or couldn’t be with. I highly doubted Ashley Fucking Player would, either.
The band was never gonna know about it, anyway. Really wasn’t any of their fucking business, even if Summer wanted to make it so.
Either way, I probably would’ve agreed to whatever Ash asked of me. Then and now.
By the time I arrived at the condo tower in Coal Harbour where he and Danica lived, rode the elevator up and knocked on their door, my whole body was vibrating with anticipation. I had no idea if Ash would be as worked up about seeing me again as I was about seeing him. I really didn’t expect him to grab me, shove me up against the wall and finish that kiss we’d started half a year ago the split second he answered the door… but if he did, I was hardly gonna stop him.
He didn’t answer the door.
“Hey, Matty. Merry Christmas.” Our drummer, Xander, answered the door, welcoming me with a fist bump and a hug… and all my hopes and fantasies about a smoking hot three-way before the party snuffed out.
I glanced over Xander’s shoulder into the living room. Guns N’ Roses was playing and his pretty blonde girlfriend, Courteney, was sitting on the couch. I didn’t know they were gonna be here. But of course they were. This wasn’t a date.
Courteney waved. “Hey, Matt.”
“Hey.” I cleared my throat, trying to choke back the disappointment and find a smile. “Ash here?” I heard female voices in the apartment, muffled and pretty drowned out by the music.
