Virgin Seeks Bad Boy (Bliss River 3)

Simply breathing the same air as someone who finds me so repulsive is starting to feel like a violation of my basic human rights.

For the first time since I joined Lark’s staff, I take advantage of the fact that my sister is also my boss and beg off helping with final cleanup and packing the van.

“I have a callback for the singing gig tonight,” I say, pressing my hands together as I blink sad puppy eyes Lark’s way. “Could I pretty please leave early so I can shower and do my hair before the audition? Aria said I could take her car.”

Lark laughs. “No need for the anime eyes. Of course, you can go. Get out of here. You don’t want to smell like duck wrapped in bacon for your audition.”

“I don’t know. All the musicians I’ve known were pretty into bacon,” Aria says, stopping on her way by with a stack full of empty dessert plates to drop her keys in my hand.

“Be careful,” she adds with a stern look. “Don’t go anywhere alone with those guys, don’t drink anything you didn’t see the bartender pour with your own eyes, and don’t leave your drink unattended.”

I smile and roll my eyes. “Aria, these are men from Bliss River. They’re harmless. And besides, Lila, the girl who plays bass, will be there.”

“Okay,” she says. “But be careful anyway. And remember, if you hurt my new car, I will kill you. Slowly.”

“Yes, mother,” I say, giving Lark and Aria both a quick peck on the cheek before heading for the parking lot.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Nick carrying a load of serving trays into the tent to be washed. I pick up my pace until I’m jogging. I hop into Aria’s new Prius, my sister’s twenty-ninth birthday present from Nash, and push the button, feeling like the star of an environmentally responsible action film roaring off into the sunset seconds before the building behind me explodes.

As I pull away, I glance in the rearview, surprised to see Nick staring after me with a mournful look on his face, but his expression gives me no comfort or satisfaction.

He can keep his broody, confusing, hot-and-cold nonsense. After the way he embarrassed me Friday night and made this afternoon an exercise in torture via the silent treatment, I’m just not interested anymore.

Liar.

The voice in my head is uncomfortably loud.

I crank up the radio and ignore it, determined not to let Nick ruin another second of my day. I have to focus. I have an audition to dominate if I want to leave The Horse and Rider a newly minted lead singer.

And I do.

I really do.

I have way more important and exciting things on my bucket list than hooking up with a guy who isn’t interested. Like being part of a band.

Soon Nick Geary will be nothing more than fodder for an ex-boyfriend revenge song.

Maybe, once I get the gig, I’ll write one in his honor.

Chapter 9

Melody

After showering, blow-drying, hot rolling, and a little flat-ironing at the ends of my curls so they aren’t too curly—I zip myself back into the red dress I wore for the first audition.

It was lucky the first time around, and I’ve never been one to mess with success.

I add brown and white feather earrings, touch up my bright red lipstick, and pull on my boots before giving myself a critical once-over in the full-length mirror. I’m curvier than most of the other girls who auditioned, but I’m curvy in the right places, and I look like a girl who knows how to have a good time. Gone is the uptight baby sister who, until a few months ago, considered watching movies at home with Brian and her parents an acceptable way to spend a Friday night.

As if summoned by my thoughts, my cell phone chimes, announcing a text from Brian—Feeding the ducks and thinking of you. We sure do miss you on the farm. Hope we can get together for ice cream soon. I think we should talk…don’t you?

I hit the keypad to reply but pause with a sigh.

I don’t really know what to say. I’ve told Brian I’m not ready to hang out as friends half a dozen times, hoping he’ll read between the lines and realize that I’m not up for being friends. Period.

The thought of going for ice cream with him turns my stomach. He’s a nice guy—a really nice guy in many ways—but his favorite topic is always Brian. That was fine when we were younger, and I was as smitten with Brian as Brian is with Brian, but as time went by, I started to long for a boyfriend who was interested in me, too.

I want a boyfriend who wants to hear about my hopes and dreams, and I definitely need a boyfriend who wants children someday. When Brian confessed that he found Felicity “kind of gross,” it was the nail in our relationship coffin. I ended it immediately.