never heard her question before, despite it being pretty standard fare. “Hmm. Yes. Now that you mention it, I think songwriting is a deeply cathartic process for me. I’m not the best at expressing myself, sometimes, in my daily life. Oftentimes, I don’t even know what I think or feel about something. But then, I start writing a song, and my true feelings pour out of me like a confession.”
Georgina gasps and holds up her arm. “Goosebumps!” Her beautiful face aglow, she grabs her phone. “Do you mind if I jot that down? I don’t want to risk you forgetting that wording when it’s time for your actual interview.”
Well, that’s adorable. I’ve said that exact thing at least ten million times in interviews over the past four years. But, obviously, a summer intern for Rock ‘n’ Roll wouldn’t know that. I sneak a peek at my buddies over Georgina’s shoulder to find them red-faced and holding back laughter. Which means Reed, who was standing behind me the last time I checked, must still be there. And not only that, he must look like a volcano about to blow.
I touch Georgina’s hand, signaling she doesn’t need her phone. “No need to write that down. I promise, I’ll remember it during the actual interview.” With the touch of my hand to Georgina’s, I sneak a peek at Laila to my right, hoping she’s still rooted to her spot next to Cash, shooting me daggers. And to my sizzling delight, she is. In fact, if looks could kill, I’d be splattered all over the walls of Reed’s massive living room right now.
Holding back a smile, I return to Georgina, lick my lips like I’ve just devoured her pussy, and brush a lock of dark hair off her shoulder. “So, hey, Georgina, when do you think we should—"
And that’s it. Reed’s seen enough.
“I need to speak with you,” he barks out, appearing out of nowhere at my shoulder like The Flash.
“Can it wait?” I say. “Georgina and I—”
“It can’t wait,” Reed snaps. “Follow me.”
Without waiting for my reply, Reed grips my sleeve and physically drags me across the room and around a corner into a short hallway, leaving Georgina with her hazel eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.
“Reed, come on, man,” I say, smiling broadly at my friends as Reed drags me toward my certain doom. “You’re cock-blocking me.”
Reed’s entire body shudders at my words, but he continues dragging me until we’re away from the party. Once safely outside of Georgina’s sightline, Reed whirls around, his dark eyes aflame, and spits out, “Do not hit on the Rock ‘n’ Roll reporter!”
I shake my arm free of Reed’s vise-like grip. It’s a tragedy Kendrick isn’t here to witness this moment, but, by God, when I recount the story to him later, I want him to be duly impressed with me. Never let it be said I don’t give Birthday Truth or Dare my all.
Leaning my shoulder against the wall, I whine, “But, Reed, she’s hot as hell.”
Reed’s jaw pulses. “She’s hands-off.”
“Who says?”
Reed pauses, his nostrils flaring and his dark eyes on fire. And against all odds, I feel a tiny pang of compassion for the bastard. I don’t know why he’s been stalking Georgina from afar tonight. What dynamic, real or imagined, has kept him from making his intentions clear to the world? Whatever the hell is going on, Reed is clearly flustered in a way I’ve never seen him before.
Reed opens and closes his mouth, searching for his response, before finally blurting—and not convincingly, I might add, “She’s here to do a job, not to get hit on.” When I raise my eyebrows, conveying my skepticism, Reed adds, “I promised her boss nobody would hit on her.”
Well, that’s ludicrous. Since when does Reed let anything or anyone get in the way of something, or someone, he wants? Could it be Reed promised Georgina’s boss he wouldn’t hit on her, for some reason? Which I suppose is possible, given her age and inexperience and his position of power and reputation as a womanizer. But even then, I can’t imagine Reed would uphold a promise like that for long, if he really wanted Georgina.
I languidly pull a box of cigarettes out of my pocket. I only smoke when I’ve been drinking. And I couldn’t be happier to have a box with me now, given how much Reed notoriously despises cigarettes. Casually, I stick an unlit cigarette between my lips and say, “I think we should