Think about Craig.
Think about the big picture.
“Mazel Tov. Do you want me to hold your hand while you’re with her?”
“That would be logistically challenging, but cheers for offering. Just have her sign an NDA before I take her back. I don’t fuck without a non-disclosure since Cockgate.” He lit a cigarette, strolling toward the guys, his back to his next conquest and me. My whole face flamed with anger.
I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before following him. “You want me to go to her and ask her to sign a non-disclosure agreement before you have sex with her? And you haven’t even approached her yet?” I matched his step. Jesus H. If this was how Alex behaved completely sober, I dreaded to think what Blake and Co. had gone through when he’d been high as a kite.
“Correct.”
“What makes you think she’ll say yes?”
He tapped my nose with the hand that held the cigarette, smirking down at me like I was the simplest creature in the world.
“So fucking precious, Stardust. Just do it. We’re heading back to the hotel in ten.”
And off he walked.
I wasn’t his assistant. I was his sobriety companion. It occurred to me I wasn’t obligated to help him score. Furthermore, for the most part, it was probably for the best if I didn’t do that. I mean, there was no mistaking the current moving through my body. I was jealous beyond words, belief, and logic. But maybe that was exactly why I needed to let it go and comply.
I needed to show him I didn’t care.
I needed to show myself I didn’t care.
We were one week into a three-month tour, and already he’d declared his intention to get me into his bed and turn my life upside down. I couldn’t give him this power over me. I had my family and future to think about. And they were more important than any British hunk with eyes like molten gold and a devastating smirk.
I cleared my throat, squared my shoulders, and walked over to the girl. With every step I took, I inwardly prayed she was like me. Guarded and rational. That she would laugh in my face and tell me to take a hike. That she would turn red, personally walk over to Alex Winslow, and slap him in the name of feminism and self-respect. I stopped about a foot from her, tapping her shoulder to grab her attention. She turned around, a mixture of surprise and annoyance between the creases of her frowny face.
“Hi.” I smiled, swallowing down my nervousness. Every muscle in my face betrayed me, and I was sure I looked at least a little psychotic. “I work for Alex Winslow. He sent me here because he’s interested in”—driving me nuts—“spending the night with you. So I’m wondering if you’d like that, and, if so, would you be willing to sign a non-disclosure agreement?”
I wasn’t even sure where the hell I was going to find one, but my instincts told me Blake must have them handy. He was legally-savvy. Come to think about it, he was everything-savvy.
The girl’s frown disappeared, replaced with a nose-wrinkled expression of disbelief.
I know, right? What a bastard. So just say no and we can all go back to pretending this never happened.
“Alex Winslow wants to spend the night with me?”
“Seems that way.” I hated her for not slamming the idea right away, hated him for sending me over to her, but most of all, I hated myself for being stupid enough to go ahead with it to prove something to the world.
“I don’t believe you.”
I turned around, did a little hand-wave toward the guys, and caught their attention. All of them swiveled to stare at me. Lucas looked pained. Blake looked tired. Alex smiled his arrogant wolf’s grin, raising an eyebrow and his hand, tipping it slightly forward in a ‘hi’ motion.
I hope she has an STD. I hope she has all the STDs known to man, and a few new ones she’d created all on her own.
“See?” I turned back to the lady in question. “He’s in.”
“Oh, my God. Then so am I! I mean, I’d like to look at this contract, but…” She had an Aussie accent. Suddenly, I took all of her in, gulping every detail. Her luscious black hair. Her dark, feline eyes. Her pierced navel and Snow White skin. My wide-eyed, freckled, average self hated every inch of her. And that made me feel guilty.
I mustered a smile. “Fantastic. Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
I soldiered on to the boys, adding a fake bounce to my step. Two could play this game. I may not have a lot of experience, or millions of fans, or billions of dollars, but I was good. I was strong, and I was worthy. And, yes, I sure as hell was equal to him.