“Why’d you offer?”
“Who knows why I do anything I do?” He stares at me while I wait for an answer. “I just do.”
That’s a good enough explanation for me, so I look back to my knees again, letting out a shaky breath. I can’t believe I just laughed. At a time like this, Adam Everest made me laugh.
“Anyway, your boyfriend is a dumbass,” he says out of nowhere.
“How do you know?”
His gray-green eyes wash over me. “Look at you.”
I blush like hell, but I know he’s just trying to make me feel better. “You thought I was an idiot when you first saw me.”
Adam chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought you were cute as a peach.” His lips hold the cigarette in his mouth as he stands up, holding a hand down to me. My heart stops; Adam Everest is offering me his hand. In faded denim jeans, all torn up at the knees, and a fit olive-green button-down rolled up to his elbows, he makes my heart race to a nonexistent finish line. “Come on, Peach.”
I take his hand, and he lifts me to my feet, leading me away from the building. “Where are we going?”
“To get you a drink. I think you need one.”
“I’ve had a few,” I think out loud, slowing to a stop.
Adam gazes over his shoulder at me, his eyebrow cocked when he asks, “Are you saying you don’t want another?”
I take a moment to consider his question.
Just a moment, and then I keep walking.
Chapter Two
WHILE WALKING ALONGSIDE Adam, I text Dee a quick message so she won’t worry when she can’t find me at the bar.
Getting some air--with a hot guy. Be back soon.
If I told her I was just getting some air, she’d be following me outside in a heartbeat. But if she thinks I’m showing interest in any guy who isn’t Brady, I know she’ll give me space.
I think the only person who hates him more than she does right now is me.
And anyway, it isn’t a lie. Adam is hot as sin, but there’s no way in hell I’m telling Dee that’s who I’m out with. I cringe, imagining the high-pitched squeal that would tear from her lips. She’d be out here before I even finished typing the text, working some kind of voodoo telepathy and pushing me into his arms.
Adam crushes his cigarette under his shoe and then swings open the door to what I assume is his tour bus. It’s a black double-decker, and inside, it smells like leather and men’s cologne. Past the driver’s seat is a row of leather bench seats, and sleeping on one of them with his arms crossed over his chest and his face half-buried in the gray leather is a guy almost as tall as Adam. One shredded-jean-clad leg is hanging over the edge.
Adam looks back at me and holds a finger against his lips; then he creeps up and crouches next to the seat. He leans in close, looking like he’s going to kiss the guy’s cheek, but then his tongue flattens against it in a big sloppy lick and the guy wakes up yelling.
“FUCK, Adam!”
Adam laughs loudly as the guy wipes his sleeved shoulder over his cheek.
“Fucking gross, man!”
“Show’s gonna start in twenty minutes,” Adam says, walking to the wet bar and pulling a bottle of liquor from the cabinet.
The guy sits up and rubs his hands roughly over his cropped black hair. “Shit.” He finally spots me, and then his eyes travel over my face, my slinky top, my ten-sizes-too-small skirt, my hooker heels. He sighs. “Twenty minutes, Adam.” Then he slides past me and out the door.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“That was Shawn. Our lead guitarist.” Adam hands me a glass of whiskey and sits down where Shawn had just been sleeping, slouching in the seat. “So the way I see it, you have two options.”
I sit down next to him, and it feels so weird sitting next to him, because he is so out of my league. “Only two, huh?”
He grins at me and downs his drink. “One, we can sit in here and get you so shit-faced that you can’t remember what’s-his-name’s name.”
I chuckle. “And two?”
“You can get even.”
Okay, now I’m curious. “How?”
Adam sets his glass down and looks at me then—really looks at me. His eyes are locked with mine, and I swallow hard, every inch of me suddenly acutely aware of how close I am to him. His gaze drops to my lips, and when he starts leaning in, I panic. I know he’s going to kiss me. Before I can regret my decision, I scoot away.
He eyes me carefully. “Are you sure?”
I play stupid, because I suddenly feel ten shades of embarrassed. Dee can never find out about this or I’ll never hear the end of it. “Sure about what?” I swallow the rest of my drink, trying to calm my fire-cracking nerves.
Adam stays leaning forward for a moment before he carries both of our glasses back to the bar and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Shit-faced it is, Peach,” he says as he pours me another glass.
“Where’s the rest of your band?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject.
“Getting ready.”