come down from, but it’s easy to relax into my seat and just experience it. I let the high wash over me.
Jamie hovers by the door.
“Go finish watching the rest of the concert,” I say.
She lets out a little squee. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Should I be offended she’s a bigger fan of my ex than she is of me?” I’m joking … mostly.
Brix smiles at me. “I like this relaxed Harley better.”
“If you stay on when I go on my next tour, you’ll have to get used to the other Harley. He comes out before every show.”
Brix sits on the armchair and rests one big foot on the coffee table. “Question.”
“Yes, oh wise one? Is this going to be another lesson in perspective?”
“Nope. I just want to know when the last time you had actual fun onstage was?”
I gesture to the door. “Did you not see me out there? I was on fire. That’s the reason I do this.”
“That’s called adrenaline. Adrenaline can easily be confused with fun. Why do you think all the guys at Mike Bravo claim to have a fun job? Because we have so much adrenaline flowing through our veins, surviving becomes a thrill. But that’s all we’re doing out there. Surviving. And when you put it that way, it’s not fucking fun.”
As his words register, and I truly think about it, I slump. “I hate you sometimes.”
Ever since leaving Eleven, the pressure to do well has been tenfold. The more that pressure weighs down on me, the higher the payoff when I get in front of an audience, but at what cost?
The stress of it all turns me into a cold asshole.
There’s no denying I’ve been a shithead the past two days. Having to perform with Jay added to it, but I should be able to control my crappy attitude. Especially around people like Brix and Jamie, who are on my team. They’re here to help me.
Brix smiles triumphantly. “You hate me because I pointed out you’re unhappy?”
“Yes! Who does that? Let me live in my oblivious depression.”
Brix laughs. “Sorry, but I do have a point.”
“And that is?”
“The same thing I’ve been trying to tell you about writing. You put way too much pressure on yourself. You need to slow down and enjoy all of this.” He gestures around the room. “This is all for you. Because you’re awesome. Your songs affect lives and inspire people. Your work is loved by millions.”
I wave my hand for him to keep going, but maybe he confuses it with me calling him over to me.
He stands. “You’re amazing, Pop Star. You know you are.” His feet stop right by mine so he’s standing in front of me.
That giant cock of his, confined by his black pants, is right there. Right at eye level. I’ve had dreams about it. Really hot, jerk-off-inducing dreams.
He shouldn’t come so close to me when I’m buzzing like this.
I want him in my mouth again. My hand. Maybe my ass, but with how big he is I’m not sure how much I’d enjoy it. I still want it.
I glance up at him. “I can remember one particularly fun time I’ve had recently.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“I can use my mouth for more than just singing, you know …” I hook a foot behind his leg and pull him forward.
His hands land on the couch by my head, and he hovers above me. He smells like spicy cologne and badassness. I totally know that’s not technically a smell, but it describes Brix perfectly.
“I know from personal experience how talented your mouth is.”
“That was super fun.” I reach for his belt, but he stops me.
“If we do this again, there’s no going back. We can’t forget about logic and all that other shit this time.”
“We won’t.”
“There’s that tic again.” His finger trails over the dimple in my cheek. “I’m serious, Harley. I don’t want to do this back-and-forth, hot-and-cold dance. If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to keep being strong.”
That’s a tough deal but one I’m willing to make in the heat of the moment.
I grip his shirt and pull him closer, bringing our lips mere inches apart. “Don’t be strong. No regrets.”
I don’t exactly know what I’m agreeing to here. Just sex? Lots of sex? A casual thing with my bodyguard? I’m not sure how that will work. But right now, I’m not going to question it.
Guys should never be allowed to enter into an agreement when there’s sex on the line.