Say You're Mine - Layla Hagen Page 0,6

He moved his mouth closer to my ear, whispering, “The boys promised to play nice. Don’t push their buttons... too much.”

He pulled back, winking at me.

“How about yours?” I teased. “May I push yours?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re welcome to try. My reaction might... surprise you.”

Holy shit, he even sounded sexy and dangerous! Of course it was why his voice was famous, since he had that raspy, rugged tone, but these words—this delicious warning—were just for me.

He led me to the guys, who all stood up, shaking my hand. I took that as a good sign.

“Well, let’s get the game started,” Lars said in a raised voice, clapping his hands.

“What do you want to drink?” Brayden asked me while Lars gathered the troops. “They make excellent cocktails.”

“Want to get me drunk this early in the evening?”

“From a cocktail?”

“I’m a lightweight.”

“Good to know.” There he went with the dangerously sexy voice again, as if he somehow planned to use that information against me.

“I’ll have a beer. That way I can keep my head in the game.”

I smiled and turned to face the bar, ordering a Budweiser.

“So how did you get the boys to promise they’d behave?” I asked while the bartender poured me a draft.

“I have my ways. I can be very persuasive.”

I had no doubt about that.

“We all want what’s best for the band,” he added. “We just don’t always agree on what exactly is best.”

“What do you think that is?”

“I think it’s important to keep our fans happy. We owe that to them. But I also want to stay true to ourselves. We don’t change our music according to the whims of fans. I also don’t want us to pose as something we’re not.”

“That’s very good to hear.” I appreciated that more than he knew. I didn’t like people who pretended to be something they weren’t just for appearances.

“At first we interpreted what Sasha said as having to fake a certain type of image. But what she meant was simply showing the public more of us.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“But we’re not comfortable with sharing personal information.”

“We’ll find the sweet spot. Something you don’t mind sharing that would make fans feel more connected to you. The question is what to show?” I narrowed my eyes, tilting my head playfully as I grabbed the glass of beer. “What secrets are you hiding, Brayden?”

A smile played on his full lips. He leaned in a bit.

“I’ll let you discover them. Much more fun, don’t you think? And worth your while.”

“Hmm, true...” I was being coy and flirty, and I had no idea how to stop. It was impossible to think clearly with him so close.

“By the end of the evening, I want you to tell me what you think.”

“Demanding much?” I scoffed.

“Very much.” His smile widened as he pulled back.

Wow. I held his gaze even though this tension between us was growing thicker by the second. Could he feel it, or was I the only one? His bossy and flirty demeanor was incredibly attractive. I’d never met anyone so aware of his own sex appeal.

I was sure part of it was the job and maybe it was now ingrained in his behavior, in the band’s image, but some of that had to be natural. He was magnetic, and he was drawing me in. I needed to be careful.

“Brayden, Isabelle, come on. We’re starting,” Sasha called from the alleys.

I twirled on the spot, heading in her direction, feeling him walk right behind me. We stopped in front of Sasha, and I let them know there was no way I was bowling—I was very bad at it. “I’m not playing, just observing.”

“Band, behave,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then he put an arm around my shoulders, his fingers brushing my bare shoulder blade. My skin lit up where he touched me, and that heat coiled slowly throughout my body. My nipples tightened and my throat dried up. I wanted this man.

No, no. Down, girl.

My body couldn’t react to him like this. It wasn’t possible.

Sasha beamed, clearly happy that he was still on my side.

“Perfect. Brayden, I’m on your team, along with Lars and Harvey,” she said.

That was a relief. It meant I’d have plenty of time to talk to Brayden when it wasn’t his turn. I could also observe the others and draw conclusions. I’d read about them quite a lot this afternoon.

What I knew so far was Brayden played the piano, Lars the guitar, Thomas the drums, and Harvey the