The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood 2)

I wondered if the thing I most exceled at was failure.

“I know she’s right,” he said softly. “That’s why I only do it when they need someone to fill in.”

“She’s not right,” I said automatically, before tempering myself.

Nothing was known in the entertainment business, and I wasn’t going to stand in front of this kid and tell him I could make him a star. I didn’t exaggerate or make promises I couldn’t keep. But I’d seen something in him that was too strong to ignore, and the least I could offer him was the truth.

“You’re talented, Troy. I see lots of potential.” He gazed at me with deep skepticism, making me continue. “You think I’m joking? I’m not.”

It was like he didn’t want to believe me, but hope was a powerful thing. “Potential,” he repeated.

“My boss represents Stella.” I quirked an eyebrow at his surprised reaction. “Yes, that Stella. She’s going to be holding auditions for the opening act of her final show here in town. I think you should try out with that U2 cover you just did.”

He shifted back like the information had knocked him sideways. “What?” His gaze went unfocused, and his chest moved rapidly with his hurried breath. “I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can, Troy. You should.” I took a step toward him, forcing his gaze to sharpen on me. “She wants to find that diamond in the rough, an artist to pay it forward with. You are exactly what she’s looking for.”

He stared at me for a long moment, before breaking it off and glancing at his guitar. “Yeah, right.”

“You liked playing tonight, and that was for maybe a hundred people. Imagine ten thousand. Don’t you want that chance?”

“Sure. But it’s never going to happen.” He raked a hand through his hair, and I forced myself to focus on the line of buttons on his plaid shirt, instead of how sexy that action made him look.

I was too in the moment to think about consequences. Too blinded by how good he could be. “Maybe you don’t believe me, but you don’t have to. I can believe in you enough for both of us.”

God, his eyes were stunning when they filled with surprise, and my statement unlocked whatever restraint had been holding him back. “If I try, then I’m going to want it.”

“I get it.” I understood what he meant with every fiber of my being. I allowed myself to be raw and exposed with him. “I used to be where you are, so I know how scary it can be to put yourself out there. To want something so bad and how it can crush you when it doesn’t happen. But not trying? Not going for it? Shit, I promise you, Troy, that’s so much worse.”

My truth filled the space between us like a bridge, allowing me to reach him.

His voice was uneven. “When I fail—it’ll prove her right.”

I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. “Then, you don’t tell her.” He jolted at my unexpected statement, but I kept going. “You’re already keeping your performances separate from her, so this audition . . . could just be an extension of that.”

His broad chest rose as he took in a deep breath and considered.

“It doesn’t have to stay a secret,” I added softly. “You can tell her after we land you that opening slot.”

“You really think I have a chance?”

I delivered the most serious look I possessed. “Yes. I do.”

“So,” his voice thickened a single degree, but I felt the weight of it, “we’re keeping this a secret too, then?”

My breath caught in my lungs, and my heart stumbled, but the rest of my body flooded with steam. “No, I was going to tell her about—”

Gone was the hopeful boy from a moment ago as he advanced toward me. My affirmation had replaced him with the confident man I’d seen before on the stage and in the sweltering heat of my pool house.

“Tell her what? That I saw you naked? That it got me so hot you caught me jerking off?” A faint smile teased his lips, and the air in the room abandoned us as he closed in. “And then we both got naked, and I came while I watched you play with your pussy?”

“Oh, my God,” I whispered. The heat from the memory caused a deep ache between my legs.

“You think she’s going to be cool with that? Or us working together, once she finds out?”

No, she wouldn’t be. Not in a million years. But he also brought up an excellent point. “What we did,” I said between shallow breaths, “is not exactly how I like to start a professional relationship with a client.”

“Hmm,” he mocked in agreement, as he finished invading my space, moving so we were toe-to-toe. He was only a few inches taller than I was, but his presence was overwhelming. It derailed my thoughts on why it would be a good idea to put up boundaries. He was closer than we’d ever been, just inches from my lips. “You seemed to like it okay.”