Provoke_ A Seaside Pictures Novella (Seaside Pictures #3.7) - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,10

the floor. Piper was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, but miracles did happen, because she had on black Nikes.

I nearly wept.

When she bent over to organize something, I got the perfect view of an ass that had all my attention and then some. She moved slightly to the right of my gorgeous dining room table, and that’s when the bomb went off in my head.

It was like she went to bed thinking, hmmm this isn’t working, maybe he’s right, then woke up and thought, huzzah, I know what will do the trick, crayons!

“What. The. Hell.” I gaped. “Are you doing?”

“Oh Good!” She clasped her hands together and looked ready to bounce up and down. “Perfect timing! We’re going to go over our exercises, not paperwork, but you will be working with paper!” Holy shit, she seemed too proud of herself. I almost didn’t want to burst her bubble.

“This?” I pointed. “This is what you took from our conversation last night?” I shook my head. “I mean, are we finger painting?”

“No. Though we can if you want.” She grinned. Where the hell did she get all this pep? It was like a Starbucks Christmas commercial had exploded in her little body over the last twelve hours. She rushed me and then held out her hands. “Okay, so I know this is going to seem elementary, but bear with me, all right?”

I was afraid to nod my head as my feet slowly shuffled toward the section of my house that now looked like Hobby Lobby. “Well, you’ve got me, I’m at least curious. Are we teaching kids or something that’s going to be altruistic and remind me how lucky I am to do what I love?”

Her expression fell a bit. “No. Actually, we’re going to do something better. We need a place to start, and a vision of what our finish is going to look like.”

Thoughts of ponies suddenly exploded in my brain. No, no, no, no.

I swear the world paused and then went into slow motion as her mouth moved to form the words. “Vision board!”

She even clapped in excitement afterwards.

I blamed the guys for manifesting this in my life, cursing them about a million times before I set down my phone and tried to glare. “I’m not making a friggin’ vision board.”

“Stop being difficult.” She rolled her eyes. “Plus, if you’re a good boy, I’ll even let you use glitter.” She smacked me on the shoulder and then shoved me toward the table. All the while, I felt my balls retreating into my body.

Shit.

Chapter Five

Piper

He looked less than enthused. In fact, he looked ready to set fire to the glitter section of the table, and I had worked really hard to make everything look fun. After our talk last night, I’d realized two things. One, he was being open with me, which was good. And two, the professional me, the one who had very serious boundaries in place, wasn’t gonna get the job done. So I figured if I stopped being so clinical and opened up a bit, he would respond better.

“How is this supposed to help me?” He crossed his arms, making it impossible for me not to take notice of the lean muscles that bulged. It’s like the minute I turned off Life Coach Piper, the girl who found the rock star attractive charged to the surface with a giant roar.

I licked my lips and tried to focus on explaining why this was going to be helpful, but I seemed unable to form words.

He was pretty.

Really pretty.

Focus, Piper!

Still professional. Remember?

I mean, so what if my boyfriend dumped me right before I boarded a plane for Portland, only to be told that the flight was full, and I’d been moved to a middle seat?

It had been a direct flight from LA.

Three hours with no armrest.

But I knew that this was a fresh start, compliments of my ever-changing vision board.

I grinned triumphantly. “Close your eyes.”

He stared me down, his blue eyes twinkling with total judgment before he let out a sigh and did as I asked. “You’re right, Piper, closing my eyes and pretending nobody can see me is super helpful. Gee, why didn’t I think of that? On stage? In front of thousands of people—”

“Sarcasm is oftentimes used as a defense mechanism,” I interrupted. “Now keep your eyes closed. Where do you see yourself in one year?”

“Touring,” he said quickly. “Hopefully.”

“Uh-huh. And where do you see yourself in three years?”

He hesitated for a few seconds. “Making music.”

“Five