The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

I arched an eyebrow. “I am American. Born and raised right here in Illinois.”

“I mean...” He rolled out a hand and his eyes flared as if he was worried he’d offended me.

“My dad was American,” I explained. “But since I don’t remember him and grew up with my mom’s side of the family raising me, yeah, you could say my heritage is very deeply embedded in all things Latino. I probably fell in love with the type of music I did because to me, it was so much more exotic and exciting than what I was used to my family always listening to. Plus, it was kind of fun to be the rebel in the group.”

With a laugh, Asher nodded. “That makes sense.” He opened his mouth to say more but two girls approached, one sliding up right against his side and running her fingers along his chest. “Hey, you’re Asher Hart, aren’t you? We loved your performance tonight.”

The smile he sent her was friendly enough as he said, “Thanks,” but then he leaned away, obviously uncomfortable with her proximity.

I couldn’t keep my narrowed gaze off her red painted fingernails as they kept traveling lower and lower down his chest and over his stomach, steadily making their way toward his lap. “You have the most amazing voice ever.”

He caught her wrist before she could get a handful of little Asher but still managed a tense smile. “Glad you liked it.”

“Hey! You two.” Noel pointed at the two women and waved them off. “This is a VIP area. You need to move along.”

The women huffed out their displeasure but Noel narrowed his eyes, and they finally slunk away. As soon as he was relieved of the girl’s grasp, Asher spun on his stool so he was no longer sitting sideways to face me but now had his legs tucked securely under the counter space...so no more women could climb into his lap.

“Thanks, man,” he told Noel.

“Aww...anything for our delicate little cupcake.” Noel went to pinch his cheeks, but Asher slapped his hand away and called him a dirty name.

As

Noel moved off, laughing, a blushing Asher slanted a glance my way. “Sorry about that. They can get really...forward.”

Again, he surprised me. Fisher would’ve already been all over those two girls—a very sad fact I hadn’t learned until after I was engaged to the douchebag. Yeah, it’d been kind of downer to hear he’d slept with a new girl pretty much every time he’d gone out into public without me.

I took a small sip of my beer as I studied Asher’s face, watching him glance over his shoulder at the ladies Noel had shooed away. His expression confused me. I saw the flicker of interest; he definitely didn’t mind what he saw. But there was also a wariness that didn’t mesh with his initial attraction to them.

“And...you don’t like forward?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He zipped his gaze to me, his green eyes filled with surprise. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. I just...” He shifted his shoulders again. “I guess I just like to be the one pursuing, you know.” With one last glance at the women he’d rebuffed, he added, “And I haven’t had the chance to do that in a while.”

“I can imagine.” I’d definitely experienced the same draw to him every other female tonight had. He was probably constantly chased by a horny mob.

Shifting closer, he lowered his voice and admitted, “It’s embarrassing as fuck. They all crowd around me as if I’m something, I don’t know, amazing, and they don’t know jack shit about me. I’m just a regular guy, and I can’t help but think they’d only be disappointed if they really got to know me.”

Oh, I begged to differ on that point. So far, he was turning out to be incredibly interesting...and growing more interesting by the moment.

Thank God Jodi showed up then, before I could say anything, because I might’ve blurted out that I thought he was by no means dull or regular.

She slid up against me, giggling—obviously drunk off her ass—and almost knocked me off my stool, right into Asher. I had to put out a foot and slam my hand onto the counter to catch myself.

“Hey, puta,” she cried, wrapping her arms around my neck and giving me a big sloppy kiss on my masked cheek. “Oh my God, you’re so hot tonight. Have I told you how good you look in this get-up? Are you going to drive me home? I could give you fake road head in the car.”

I rattled out a nervous laugh, glad she hadn’t given my identity away yet, aside from the puta reference and fake road head offer, but I hoped Asher hadn’t caught that. Still, she was so wasted she might actually give me away soon. “Looks like I will be,” I answered, slipping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. “You are plastered, chica.”

“Feels good,” she answered, tipping her head back, only to catch sight of who I was sitting beside. Eyes flashing open wide, she gasped. “Oh my God, there’s that gorgeous lead singer dude in your band again. Don’t you just want to lick him?” She started to climb into my lap and crawl across me to reach him. “Hey...Asher Hart? Can I lick you?”

“Jodi!” I hauled her back to the other side of me. “Down girl. No licking my bandmates.”

She wrinkled her nose and made a pouty face. “You’re no fun. Besides.” Her tongue came out to waggle at me. “I just gave that bastard Billy head under the table to get my panties back. And my tongue was all over—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth to shut her up. “Eww.” Then I remembered where she’d just had that mouth, and I quickly removed my fingers to wipe them on my pant leg. Glancing at Asher, I cringed and mouthed the word, Sorry.

He only laughed. “Don’t worry about it.”

But I kept stressing. “How long do you think it’ll take to clean off the stage?”