… what exactly do you need me to do? What’s my job? They already took Chris. Will that big, bearded guy come for me too?” Jersey couldn’t remember his name.
“No.” Ian stood, pushing his elbows out from his shoulders, twisting side to side. “Tonight you are just going to watch the concert from backstage. Tomorrow night you’ll sell merchandise.”
“Drugs. You mean drugs, don’t you?”
Ian paused his stretching, letting his arms fall limp to his sides. “Merchandise—T-shirts, posters, keychains, phone cases, hats, guitar pics …”
“To who?”
“Fans.” Ian grinned. “Okay. I might have understated all of this to you … can you name a famous singer? Old or new. Doesn’t matter. Just a famous singer.”
“I had a foster parent who used to listen to Josh Groban.” Jersey gnashed her teeth, still feeling so much anger. Dena wasn’t just a foster parent; she was Jersey’s friend.
“Okay. Well, Josh has sold millions of records, and he’s a huge star in his genre of music. Thousands of people pack venues all over the world to see him sing live in concert. And they sell merchandise of his at those concerts.”
Jersey gazed unblinkingly at Ian as he scratched his jaw.
“Well, I sing a different genre of music, but I, too, travel the world, singing to sold-out concert venues, and I have people who sell my merchandise at these concerts.”
Jersey dropped her bag to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. “Listen, Coop. Stop talking down to me. I’m not an idiot. I know what a concert is. But earlier today you didn’t say what you did or what the job was you were offering. You bought a homeless person a hot dog and offered her a job. Of course, I’m going to think something sketchy might be involved.”
Tipping her chin up, she held her breath to puff out her chest, pretending the recent revelation of Ian Cooper being a famous singer didn’t faze her one bit. Inside, Jersey’s heart hammered into her ribcage, and her mind reeled trying to figure out the day’s events.
“Coop?” His lips twitched into a tiny grin.
“It’s short for Cooper.”
“Clearly.” Ian chuckled. “But my name is Ian. Everyone calls me Ian.”
“I busted the nose and jaw of a kid named Ian. He tried to stick his cock in my ass. I’ll call you Tom, Dick, or Harry, but I’m not calling you Ian because that makes me want to physically harm you.”
Ian’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as his head whipped back a few inches. “Coop it is.”
A knock at the door sent the other guys in the room into a frenzy, jumping to their feet.
“Let’s do this!” The messy redhead yelled as he tossed his game controller onto the sofa and chugged down the rest of his beer.
The three men filed out the door without looking in Ian’s direction.
“Band members?”
Ian nodded, grabbing a clear glass bottle with a blue lid. He screwed off the top and took down the whole thing.
“They left without you.”
He sighed, wiping the corners of his mouth with his hand. Jersey could hear a surge of cheers and rhythmic clapping thundering through the venue.
“I’ll catch up. I’m the last one to go on stage. Walk with me.”
She lifted her bag onto her shoulder.
“You can leave your bag.”
“Nope.” She shot him a challenging look.
“My bad. You should definitely bring it. That was my second suggestion. Do I have anything in my teeth?” He bared his teeth and pink gums.
The room was lined with vanities, mirrors, and lights. Jersey blinked in disbelief for several seconds.
“No? Good. Let’s go.” He winked and strutted to the door.
Jersey hiked her bag up higher and followed him. Two guys waited outside his door. She recognized Shane. He led the way, and the other guy lagged behind Ian, speaking into his wrist. The intensity of noise grew deafening as they wound their way through a maze of halls and doors to a set of stairs caged in by black scaffolding.
Ian turned around at the bottom of the stairs. “Wish me luck, Jersey.”
She shook her head, cupping her ear.
He leaned in so close his lips brushed her ear, and his warm breath burned her skin. “Wish me luck.” Ian pulled away just enough to see her face.
He was close. Too close. Jersey didn’t let men get that close to her without asking to get knocked on their ass or stabbed in the gut.
Except Chris. She let Chris lie close to her, sometimes even touch her in an innocent way. But Ian wasn’t Chris,