Dangerous Fling (Dangerous Noise 4)

"You were perfect." I help her out of her dress and shoes and into her bed. "You're supposed to scout locations with Rafe next week."

"Yeah."

"I'll pick you up Monday at eleven A.M."

"A.M.? You want me to be ready in the A.M. after this?"

"You're off Monday."

"Still."

"You have dinner with my parents Saturday."

"That's a perk?"

"I'll make it worth your while."

She looks up at me with a wide smile. "How's that?"

"You don't trust me?"

"No, I do."

"But you want to fantasize about it."

"Maybe." Her eyelids flutter closed as she nestles into her pillow. "Mal… I… I'll see you soon."

"Until then." I make sure her alarm is set on her cell then I lock the door behind me.

I don't go home. I go straight to Ethan's place in Newport Beach.

He answers the door with a sleepy yawn. "It's not even morning."

"It's almost eight," I say.

"Fuck off." He tries and fails to rub the tired from his bright eyes.

It's rare my brother looks this tired.

With Violet around, he doesn't frown like this.

"Is that Mal?" Violet calls from inside the apartment. "Don't mind Ethan. You must know how grumpy he is in the mornings."

"I'm a rock star. I don't do mornings." He pulls the door open and motions come in.

"Yeah, honey, I know. You're a big, important rock star," she teases from the other room. "I'm making a cup of tea. You want one?"

"Sure, thanks." I lock the door behind me.

Ethan looks around the small apartment like he's confused as to how he got here. He takes in the posters of B-movies above the bookshelf of DVDs. The expensive sound system. The sleek leather couch. Violet's Kindle on the coffee table. His acoustic guitar leaning against the wall opposite the couch.

Fuck, does he still sit on the couch and play for her the way he did when they were barely eighteen?

He must. He still looks at her like she lights the sun.

Violet steps into the room. She's in a work outfit—a snug crimson dress with a black cardigan over her shoulders. She looks to me. "Everything okay?"

Her green eyes are earnest. Why wouldn't they be?