Rock Reclaimed (Rock Revenge Trilogy 2)

I knew it was where I needed to go, but I so didn’t want to have anything other than me in my art. Not this man who fucked with my head as much as he fascinated me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I dragged it out, knowing who it was going to be before I looked at the screen.

I thought I knew how to drink. I’m English FFS, but your whiskey here? Dangerous. However, I met a new friend. Unlikely cat—his kind of word. Cool AF. I missed you too much.

Before I could answer him, another one came through.

Whiskey kisses are a sore substitute.

“This kid is gonna kill me.” Instead of replying to his texts, I called him. “Why are you bothering me?”

“Nice to hear from you, too, Magic.” His voice was huskier than usual. And that was almost impossible without him being sick.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Nope.”

“Contrary man.”

“Lonely man.”

“Stop. I’m mad at you.”

“Why?” He seemed to drag in a deep breath and exhale. Smoking again? He rarely did it, but I’d caught him with a cigarette in his hand here and there.

“How dare you sic your manager on me. I don’t need your help finding jobs, buddy.”

“You’re a very self-sufficient woman. I have to admit that one was purely selfish.”

I swallowed. Well, that was certainly straight to the point. He usually charmed his way around a sentence or five before he got to the point. “You realize I have a job to do. And it’s not to be at your beck and call?”

“Allow me to incentivize things.”

“Been there, done that.”

“You wound me, Zoe.”

“Why do you sound like you’re in bed?”

“Because I am.”

I lowered my phone and glanced at the time, then put it back to my ear. “It’s four in the afternoon.”

“I told you I was up late. New friend and a show.”

“Female friend?” I wanted to snatch that back immediately. I had no right to ask. I’d made sure there were no strings.

Tried anyway.

“Jealous?”

“No.”

“Little liar.” He groaned and sheets rustled as if he was stretching. “My cock only seems to stir for a snarky American these days.”

“I’m sure you find plenty of those.” I thought of the picture in my drawer. Fans with a bit of an edge. Figured, since Ian seemed to have that too. The charm buffed the edges, but under them were the jagged bits that wouldn’t let me look away.

Stupid.