“A fate worse than death.”
“It was. But to answer your question, no, I don’t think Logan has noticed Luke flirting with me. If so, he hasn’t said a word about it to me.” I gesture to my car a few feet away. “That’s me. You want to put your bag in the trunk?”
“Thanks.” We stow Colin’s garment bag and head to our respective sides of the car, at which point Colin says, “Even if Luke’s not a monster, he’s most definitely a flaming asshole.”
“Nah. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just terrible at reading social cues.”
Colin opens the door on his side of the car. “No. Only a flaming asshole would even think of hitting on his best friend’s little sister—let alone, follow through on the impulse.” With that, Colin slides into my car, leaving me staring at the space his handsome face filled a moment ago, my spirit thudding into my toes.
“Wompity womp womp,” I whisper to myself, before exhaling and slipping into my car. So much for my silly fantasies, huh? Colin couldn’t have made himself any clearer: I’m a little sister to him. With exactly zero hope of ever becoming more.
Three
Colin
I burst out laughing, yet again. The same thing I’ve done ten times in as many minutes during this car ride to the restaurant. I don’t know why I’m surprised Amy O’Brien as an adult is hilarious, considering how much she always made me laugh as a kid. In fact, sitting here with Amy in her small car now, listening to her talk while studying her various funny facial expressions, I feel like no time has passed since our years together on Cedar Street. Except, of course, for those perfect tits she’s now sporting.
I’m a monster for noticing those mouthwatering beauties. Surely, I’m going to hell for all the little peeks I’ve stolen of them during this short drive. But, come on, how could I not peek at them? If they were attached to anyone else but Logan’s little sister, I’d already have hit on Amy, hard, with the intention of getting those perfect beauties out of that push-up bra and straight into my hungry mouth, as soon as possible. In fact, the minute I laid eyes on Amy in the church, before I knew who she was, I thought, “Here’s hoping that Uber driver was right about bridesmaids being hella horny.”
Fuck.
I cringe at my inner dialog, even as I’m sneaking yet another inappropriate peek at Amy’s cleavage.
“And, lo and behold,” Amy is saying, making me realize I’ve been tuning her out while admiring her tits. “When I walked into that greenroom, the big boss himself, Reed Rivers, was on a couch with her—in the middle of giving her enthusiastic oral sex!”
“Wait, go back a bit,” I say, realizing I missed the first part of Amy’s story because I was staring at her tits. “I got distracted by the . . . pretty view of the skyline.”
Amy looks out her driver’s side window. “Oh, yeah, it is pretty.” She returns her attention to the road. “No worries. I was saying Caleb wasn’t subtle about his attraction to that music reporter. But when she disappeared somewhere backstage right before RCR was supposed to go on, Caleb ordered me to go find her and make sure she was coming to an after-party as his personal guest.” Amy snorts and rolls her eyes. “Mind you, this was only day two of the tour—the day after I’d spilled hot coffee onto Caleb’s lap—so, I was bound and determined to find the reporter and deliver his message. But when I found the reporter, she was in a green room getting eaten out by Reed Rivers!”
“Holy shit!” I shout.
Amy playfully wags her finger at me. “Now, don’t you dare forget I’m bound by an iron-clad NDA! I wouldn’t put it past Reed to have me murdered if he found out I told you this story.”
“I won’t say a word. But I promise Reed wouldn’t care if he found out you told me. I’m sure he’d laugh, seeing as how he’s engaged to that reporter now.”
Amy’s green eyes bug out. “What?”
“Yep. At this point, I bet Reed would love for the whole world to know he was eating his fiancée’s pussy backstage at an RCR concert, while C-Bomb was doing his mighty best to get her into his bed.”
Amy guffaws.
“How’d Caleb take it when you told him Reed had swooped in on the reporter?” I ask.
“Oh, he was pissed as hell. But, thankfully, not at me. Caleb was surprisingly nice about it when I told him. Although . . . when I told Caleb the news, I had a huge welt on my forehead from smacking into a wall after walking in on Reed, and thanks to that welt, Caleb started calling me ‘Unicorn’ that day and kept doing it for the whole rest of the tour.” She unleashes a husky, throaty laugh that sends butterflies whooshing into my belly and arousal zinging across my skin. Damn. If Amy were anyone else, that sexy laugh would be a huge turn-on for me, every bit as much as those incredible tits.
Whoa.
Hold on.
It’s suddenly dawning on me Amy might very well have just told me, in code, she had a tour fling with Caleb! Because I certainly don’t remember Caleb being particularly “nice” to a single staffer during our tour together. And he certainly never gave anyone a cute little nickname, even in jest.
On the other hand, I don’t remember Caleb banging any staffers during our tour together. So, I don’t think that’s his M.O. But I certainly wouldn’t put it past him, either. Especially if the right woman had caught his eye . . . like, maybe, a sweet cutie pie he knew he’d be glued to the hip with for the next nine months?
Adrenaline floods my veins. An acute sense of protectiveness. Or is this jealousy? I have no right to have an opinion about what Amy might have done during the tour, and with whom. But, still, I can’t deny the thought of Caleb’s huge hands on her . . .
Oh, God.
I feel sick.
“From what I saw,” Amy is saying when I tune back in, “fame isn’t everything it’s cut out to be. I wouldn’t want to trade places with anyone in the band, but especially not Dean or C-Bomb. They can’t go anywhere without being recognized.”
“It’s the same with Dax. I’m lucky. People recognize me, but not nearly as much as Dax or Dean or C-Bomb. And when they do, they’re usually pretty chill.” I look out my side of the car. “The whole concept of ‘celebrity’ is a total mindfuck. I know I’m still the same guy who lived on Cedar Street. The guy who used to get teased as a kid. But to the outside world, I’m somehow ‘special’ and ‘set apart,’ the coolest of the cool kids, through no particular worthiness on my part.”
Amy glances from the road to look at me. “You were teased as a kid?”
“Mercilessly. You remember those older kids who lived on the corner? They were relentless.”
Amy is floored. “I must have been too young to notice. What’d they tease you about?”
“For being chubby, mostly. Also, for having the wrong shoes and clothes. This was years before my mom married my stepdad, so money was extra tight in my house back then.”
She furrows her brow. “You were never chubby.”
I chuckle. “So, you’re conceding I had the wrong shoes and clothes?”