As I moved toward the revolving entrance door, I saw Cary standing outside on the sidewalk talking to Brett. I slowed, giving myself a minute to absorb the sight of my old flame.
Brett’s short-cropped hair was naturally dark blond, but he’d had the tips dyed platinum and the look was a good one for him, with his tanned skin and irises of a beautiful emerald green. On stage he was usually shirtless, but today he was dressed in black cargo pants and bloodred T-shirt, his arms covered in sleeves of tattoos that writhed over his muscles.
He turned his head then, looking inside the lobby, and I started walking again, my stomach fluttering a little when he caught sight of me, and his ruggedly handsome face was softened by a smile that revealed a killer dimple.
Jesus, he was sexy as hell.
Feeling a little too exposed, I pulled out my sunglasses and slipped them on. Then I took a deep breath as I spun through the revolving doors, my gaze shifting to the Bentley parked just behind Brett’s limo.
Brett whistled. “Damn, Eva. You’re more gorgeous every time I see you.”
I shot a strained smile at Cary, my pulse racing madly. “Hey.”
“You look great, baby girl,” he said, reaching for my hand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angus step out of the Bentley. In that moment of distraction, I totally missed Brett reaching for me. A split second after I registered his hands at my waist, I realized he was going to kiss me and barely turned my head in time. His lips touched the corner of my mouth, feeling warm and familiar. I stumbled back, tripping over Cary, who caught me by the shoulders.
Flushed with embarrassment and disoriented, I looked anywhere but at Brett.
And found myself looking into the icy blue eyes of Gideon.
16
STANDING FROZEN JUST outside the revolving doors of the Crossfire, Gideon stared at me with such intensity I squirmed.
Sorry, I mouthed, feeling awful, knowing how I would’ve felt if Corinne had gotten her lips on him the other day.
“Hi,” Brett greeted me, too focused on me to pay attention to the dark figure standing with his fists and jaw clenched just a few feet away.
“Hey.” I could feel Gideon watching me, and it was painful not to go to him. “Ready?”
Without waiting for the guys, I yanked the limo door open and crawled in. I’d barely gotten my ass on the seat when I pulled the burner phone out of my purse and sent a quick text to Gideon: I love you.
Brett settled on the bench seat beside me, and then Cary slid in.
“I’ve been seeing your pretty mug everywhere, man,” Brett said, talking to Cary.
“Yeah.” Cary shot me a crooked smile. He looked great in distressed jeans and designer T-shirt, with leather cuffs on his wrists that matched his boots.
“Did the rest of the band fly in with you?” I asked.
“Yep, they’re all here.” Brett flashed that dimple at me again. “Darrin crashed the minute we got to the hotel.”
“I don’t know how he drums for hours. It’s exhausting just watching.”
“When you’re high off the rush of being on stage, energy isn’t a problem.”
“How’s Erik?” Cary asked with more than casual interest, making me wonder—not for the first time—if he and the band’s bassist had ever hooked up. As far as I knew, Erik was straight, but there had been little signs here and there that made me think he might have experimented a little with my best friend.
“Erik’s dealing with some issues that have come up on the tour,” Brett replied. “And Lance hooked up with a girl he met when we were in New York the last time. You’ll be seeing them all in a few minutes.”
“The life of a rock star,” I teased.
Brett shrugged and smiled.