Stroke It - Brooke Page Page 0,59

her smile fading. “Jet, I…” her shoulders fell.

I grinned and shrugged. “… Had a good night.” I finished for her. She didn’t have to say what she was thinking.

Regan had class, and wasn’t the type of girl to sleep with a guy she just met. I respected that, in fact, it made me like her even more.

She nodded, then began digging through her purse, most likely for her room key, but to my surprise, took out a pen instead. Grabbing my hand, she turned it so my palm was facing upward, beginning to write.

“Call me, or text me, whatever is easiest,” she said nonchalantly. “If you want.”

I smirked. “Probably won’t be for a few days. I have a strict rule.”

She giggled, throwing the pen back into her purse and taking out her room key to open the door.

She stood in the doorway, as if she were debating changing her mind.

Breaking the silence, and against my cock’s wishes, I said, “I’ll call you.”

Her eyes swiped me from head to toe, then nodded. “Yes. Call me.”

After a beat, she went inside and closed the door, and although I wanted to get naked with her, I was satisfied with how the night had ended. Something about Regan was different, and I wanted to find out why I was so intrigued.

Mikey sat up straight when I hopped back into the car. “Sorry, Jet, didn’t think you’d come out so soon.”

I frowned. “Yeah, not my night I guess.”

Mikey laughed under his breath, then put the car into drive.

I took out my phone and began scrolling, my finger pausing on a photo.

New romance budding: Jet Ryder and Raina Skye Spotted Mingling.

The photo was of Regan and me sitting at the bar top, just before Chase beat the shit out of Kyle. I was surprised they got photos of Regan and I and not the fight.

“Wow, these tabloid writers are getting faster and faster,” I laughed in disbelief.

“I thought you didn’t read those?” Mikey asked,

I ticked my jaw, unable to take my eyes off of Regan’s smile in the photo. She was naturally beautiful in these photos and in person. Taking a screen shot, I slipped my phone back in my pocket and rested my arms behind my head. “I don’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Regan, present

The show in Chicago was a new beginning.

A wall had crumbled between Jet and me, and we weren’t two singers forcing each other to co-exist, but were actually becoming friends.

Sebastian and Addicts Unite’s team had offered me a spot on the rest of their American tour instead of meeting up in bigger cities, and I signed the dotted line to agree in a heartbeat. I was having too much fun with Jet not to sign.

I found myself wandering onto their tour bus more often than my own, and they didn’t bat an eye, merely included me in their silly antics and tour routines.

I learned so much about them, from Gunner and his charity work, to Rocket and his love for all aspects of art, and Chase and his patriotism and love for the southern life.

Then there was Jet, the dark and snarky addition, whom had somehow convinced all of them to create a band to help distract them from their addictions.

He had always been like a magnet, someone I had to work hard to ignore, but now, I couldn’t find myself able to pull away from him. I understood why he was the lead singer and everyone's favorite onstage. He was becoming my favorite in the sheets as well.

“Aren’t you sick of these idiots yet?” Sebastian asked from behind his laptop. We were driving from Atlanta to Oklahoma City, and hadn’t stopped in five hours. I’d planned to switch back to my bus when we stopped next.

“Nah, they’re growing on me.” I was sitting across from him, my back against the window with one leg crossed over the other. Jet was next to me, his headphones on and pencil scribbling frantically in his notebook. His free hand was resting on my thigh, safely hidden by the table.

We did our best to keep the PDA on the down low, but his bandmates weren’t idiots. They knew one of our hotel rooms was always empty when we stayed overnight.

They caught on when the two of us would disappear twenty minutes after rehearsals.

Thankfully, they hadn’t teased us, at least not in front of me.

Sebastian eyed me, a slow smirk forming on his face. Did he catch me gawking at Jet? It was hard not to stare at him