Dangerous Rock (Dangerous Noise 3)

"Then who cares?"

"A lot of people. You have any idea how many editorials there are about adult YA readers needing to grow up?”

"No, but that sounds like a bunch of pretentious shit."

Her lips press together.

"I do get it. You should hear the shit I get from some of my friends about how they make real music and not that pop-rock crap that gets radio play. But I want to make music that's popular enough that I can play to big fucking rooms of screaming fans. If I have to tone it down on a few singles, I can do that."

"Is that what you love about music, playing live?"

I nod. "Yeah, there's an energy to it. It's not like anything else in the world."

"What about the collaboration."

"That's more challenging."

"You're too stubborn to compromise?"

I laugh. "Hey, what about this I'm okay with making our singles more pop thing?"

"True. But that's still what you want."

She's right. It is what I want. Ethan, our guitarist, is a perfectionist who cares about the song being perfect. If it's not perfect, then he doesn't care if it's popular.

Kit has a love/hate relationship with performing, but he's not as big on composing.

Mal… well, this is the only time we agree. "Mal wants it."

"Malcolm Strong. The singer." She blushes. "I looked you up."

"Smart."

"It felt unfair. I know all this stuff about you, about your life, and you don't know that much about me."

"Most of that stuff is bullshit. If anything you're behind."

She raises a brow. "You don't enjoy drinking a lot and having one-night stands?"

"Fair. But." I motion to my left hand. "I think I'm off one-night stands for a while."

"Oh." She bites her lip. "I don't want to crimp your style."

"Bella, look at me."

She does.

"I didn't invite you to my place so I could go out and fuck other women."

"But, what if I don't… what if I don't want to."

Damn, she must have a real asshole of an ex-boyfriend. Or parents with a fucked up relationship. Does she really think guys are like that?

Or just me?

"You don't owe me shit." I take her suitcase with one hand and offer her the other. "I like you. I want to have fun. If that's sex, fucking great. If not, that's fine."

"Okay." Her brow relaxes.