Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) by Crystal Kaswell Page A
Authors: Crystal Kaswell
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looks Pete in the eyes, leans in close like he's a good friend. "I'm so glad you're moving on from that cunt, Cindy. You deserve better."
Pete steps back. His expression fills with discomfort. Still, he nods a thank you.
This woman has never met him and she feels comfortable calling his ex-girlfriend a cunt.
Being rich and famous has its drawbacks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
––––––––
T om and Willow are still cozy on the couch. They shoot us one of those I know what you were doing looks. I smile politely, feigning innocence as I grab my purse.
Pete doesn't feign anything. He shrugs as if to say and so what if I was getting her off on the balcony ? Or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.
No, the way the brothers are exchanging knowing looks—they're communicating something.
Again, the question nags at my insides. Why is Pete lying to his family? I understand him needing to maintain a public image. But why not tell his friends and family the truth?
I can lie to strangers. I'm not sure I can lie to people who clearly love him.
Pete pulls me into a hug. Mmm. It's difficult to think with his body pressed against mine.
I rise to my tip toes so I can whisper in his ears. "Can we talk somewhere private?"
He nods. "Give me ten minutes. Gotta talk to Aiden." He presses his lips to mine.
I'm breathless when he pulls back and leaves in search of his manager.
Tom and Willow have half their attention on me. The rest is on Ethan and another guy from his band. They're talking about music, but Willow keeps looking at me.
Could be the conversation bores her.
Could be she doesn't buy that Pete and I are dating.
Could be a million things. No matter the case, I don't like the scrutiny. I need to clear my mind. Alone.
"Excuse me. I'm gonna get some air." I point to the not off limits balcony. "Tell Pete I'm out there."
"Sure." She smiles then turns back to her fiancé.
Without my rock star faux boyfriend, I'm not a noticeable party goer. I have no trouble shifting through the crowd and stepping onto the balcony.
There are two people smoking cigarettes in the corner. One is a musician known for sleeping with reality TV stars. I had a crush on him back in high school but up close he's not nearly as appealing as Pete is.
Damn, is it my fate to compare every man I ever meet to the sexy bassist? If so, I'm doomed. It's going to be nearly impossible to find someone who stacks up.
I move to the empty side of the balcony and breathe in as much clean air as I can.
I can get used to lingering hugs from Pete.
I can certainly get used to mind-blowing orgasms.
I can even deal with the looks people shoot me when I'm next to Pete—like I'm not hot enough to be a rock star's arm candy.
Even though it means lying to his friends and family, his offer is tempting.
I pull out my phone to check my loan application. No wifi and my data connection is slow. I hold the phone up as high as I can. There! It's loading. Loading. Loading.
Denied.
No.
It can't be denied.
I stare at the ugly red letters. They refuse to change. This was the last loan with a decent interest rate. There are others but I'll be paying them off until I'm forty.
The half of tuition I owe for the semester—my scholarship covers the other half—is a solid six months of working nights and weekends at the bar. Twelve months for the academic year.
I'm not sure how I can down that kind of money. I'm not sure I can ask for it either.
I contemplate my choices but answers refuse to come. The energy of the air shifts, warmer and more inviting, and I know he's here.
Pete slides his arms around me, pulling my body into his, my back against his chest, my butt against his crotch.
"What's that for?" I ask.
"You don't like me feeling you up?" He slides his hand to my ass.
"No. I like it."
"Mmm. Me too." He pulls me closer. "You good?"
I nod. "Just hungry."
"You want something here?"
Deep breath. I barely know my name when he's touching me, but I know I want to have him
Pete steps back. His expression fills with discomfort. Still, he nods a thank you.
This woman has never met him and she feels comfortable calling his ex-girlfriend a cunt.
Being rich and famous has its drawbacks.
CHAPTER EIGHT
––––––––
T om and Willow are still cozy on the couch. They shoot us one of those I know what you were doing looks. I smile politely, feigning innocence as I grab my purse.
Pete doesn't feign anything. He shrugs as if to say and so what if I was getting her off on the balcony ? Or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.
No, the way the brothers are exchanging knowing looks—they're communicating something.
Again, the question nags at my insides. Why is Pete lying to his family? I understand him needing to maintain a public image. But why not tell his friends and family the truth?
I can lie to strangers. I'm not sure I can lie to people who clearly love him.
Pete pulls me into a hug. Mmm. It's difficult to think with his body pressed against mine.
I rise to my tip toes so I can whisper in his ears. "Can we talk somewhere private?"
He nods. "Give me ten minutes. Gotta talk to Aiden." He presses his lips to mine.
I'm breathless when he pulls back and leaves in search of his manager.
Tom and Willow have half their attention on me. The rest is on Ethan and another guy from his band. They're talking about music, but Willow keeps looking at me.
Could be the conversation bores her.
Could be she doesn't buy that Pete and I are dating.
Could be a million things. No matter the case, I don't like the scrutiny. I need to clear my mind. Alone.
"Excuse me. I'm gonna get some air." I point to the not off limits balcony. "Tell Pete I'm out there."
"Sure." She smiles then turns back to her fiancé.
Without my rock star faux boyfriend, I'm not a noticeable party goer. I have no trouble shifting through the crowd and stepping onto the balcony.
There are two people smoking cigarettes in the corner. One is a musician known for sleeping with reality TV stars. I had a crush on him back in high school but up close he's not nearly as appealing as Pete is.
Damn, is it my fate to compare every man I ever meet to the sexy bassist? If so, I'm doomed. It's going to be nearly impossible to find someone who stacks up.
I move to the empty side of the balcony and breathe in as much clean air as I can.
I can get used to lingering hugs from Pete.
I can certainly get used to mind-blowing orgasms.
I can even deal with the looks people shoot me when I'm next to Pete—like I'm not hot enough to be a rock star's arm candy.
Even though it means lying to his friends and family, his offer is tempting.
I pull out my phone to check my loan application. No wifi and my data connection is slow. I hold the phone up as high as I can. There! It's loading. Loading. Loading.
Denied.
No.
It can't be denied.
I stare at the ugly red letters. They refuse to change. This was the last loan with a decent interest rate. There are others but I'll be paying them off until I'm forty.
The half of tuition I owe for the semester—my scholarship covers the other half—is a solid six months of working nights and weekends at the bar. Twelve months for the academic year.
I'm not sure how I can down that kind of money. I'm not sure I can ask for it either.
I contemplate my choices but answers refuse to come. The energy of the air shifts, warmer and more inviting, and I know he's here.
Pete slides his arms around me, pulling my body into his, my back against his chest, my butt against his crotch.
"What's that for?" I ask.
"You don't like me feeling you up?" He slides his hand to my ass.
"No. I like it."
"Mmm. Me too." He pulls me closer. "You good?"
I nod. "Just hungry."
"You want something here?"
Deep breath. I barely know my name when he's touching me, but I know I want to have him
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