spent supporting Walking Disaster, I’d never once scored so much as a meet and greet.
Way back when they first started out, Adam played pretty small venues, and back then, I could have met the band members by hanging out at the merch table after the show, or even volunteering to work it for free. Since I started running the fan site and they blew up so huge, I’d never gotten closer than tenth row at Bankers Life Fieldhouse, and those tickets had cost me a couple hundred dollars on a scalper site.
For the second time, Shane was offering me something way more valuable than a meet and greet. Experiencing a real rock band’s rehearsal—not my dad’s band—would be, as they say, priceless.
It would kill me to decline. And yet . . .
“It’s my first week. They might frown on that.”
“Can’t you take vacation?”
I shook my head. “Haven’t accrued any yet.”
“Can you work remote?”
“Theoretically.” At the hopeful look on his face, I added, “I haven’t really tested it out, and I don’t know if my manager would like me to up and decide not to come in.”
“You work for Lars, right?”
“Ultimately, yes. He’s not my manager.”
“I’m friends with Lars. He runs a music magazine. He understands the importance of accruing music experience. You know he’d want his staff members to spend a day watching a world-class band practicing.”
“World class?” I raised an eyebrow. “Which band would that be?”
He pinched my side, gently. “You’re asking for it.”
“Ouch!” I batted his hand away. “You need to stop tempting me. If I lose my job, I’ll have to go back to Indiana.”
“Give me your phone.”
I reached over and hugged it to me. “No way.”
He dragged his teeth across his lower lip, and I thought for a half a second about calling in sick after all. But before I could dive back into him, a timer buzzed, and he lifted me off him with ease and set me down on the sofa. Then he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with cinnamon croissants and two mugs of coffee. He sat on his ankle.
I picked at the pastry and popped a corner into my mouth. “Mmm. Oh, Jesus.”
“Try the coffee. It’s real Kona.”
Of course, it was. I took a sip and stopped scoffing. “Holy God. Why does this taste so good?”
He shrugged. “It’s Kona.”
Because obviously.
I couldn’t tease him about it though. So far, he’d proven he had impeccable taste, and I wanted to savor every mouthwatering bite and every delicious sip.
As if he thought the food could coax me to play hookie, he pressed me with puppy-dog eyes. “Stay here this morning. Come in with me to rehearsal and shoot video for Lars. If I know him, and I think I do, he’d love that.”
“Don’t you think it’s nepotism or at least a conflict of interest if I use you to get content for the magazine? I mean, isn’t that like sleeping with your source or some other journalism taboo?”
He leveled me with his blue eyes over his coffee. “Layla, everyone uses their connections in this business. It’s not a big deal.” He twisted his index finger around mine. “Lars wouldn’t hate for you to hang out with your favorite band.”
His cocky grin proved his confidence in the belief that that favorite band, for me, was his.
He wasn’t entirely wrong. I was becoming a raging fan of one member. Speaking of members . . . My imagination went wild with the things I wanted to do to him, but, sadly, I had a different kind of job to do.
Chapter Thirteen
We finished our amazing breakfast together, chatting about inconsequential topics. He asked me about my job. I asked him about the things in his apartment and fridge. When I got up to get ready—as much as I could, given that I had no fresh clothes—he announced he’d be coming into town with me and began the process of commandeering an Uber.
That prompted me to ask, “So, I noticed you don’t have a driver?”
He scoffed. “Uh, no. I’m not a special snowflake like Micah.” His goofy smile flat-lined. “You’re okay with an Uber, right?”
I hadn’t meant to imply I’d come to expect a higher standard of living. It was an innocent question. “Of course. This is way better than the subway.”
We descended back out into the real world to find a Toyota Corolla awaiting us. Shane slid in beside me, wasting no time to wrap an arm around me. The constant intimacy might start to chafe,