"Everyone has a price, sweetheart. Don't make me work to find yours."
There's a hand around my arm. It pulls me off the couch and presses me against a hard body. Miles.
"You okay?" he whispers.
I nod.
Miles glares at Aiden. "Don't talk to my friends."
Tom and Miles share a look of understanding. Then Tom is the one on the couch, having harsh words with the manager.
Fame is fucked up.
Miles wraps his arms around me. His voice is soft, sweet. "Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Good… he has a reputation. It's a long story, but stay away from him."
I nod. Miles sounds worried. He's worried about me. He cares about me.
But what was Tom talking about? They have a secret. Miles wrote a new song, a love song? My mind is racing. I can't keep up.
"What did your friend want to talk about?" I ask.
"Band stuff."
"Sure it wasn't about me?"
"What did Aiden say to you?" Miles asks.
"He doesn't want you to have a girlfriend. For your image. Girls need to think you're a slut, I guess."
Miles laughs. "Yeah, he would say that. But you're not my girlfriend. So we're good."
"Yeah. Should I worry about being on a gossip page? My parents will flip over me dating a rock star."
"Want to bet?"
"Maybe."
His eyes find mine. "Your parents will love me."
"You're cocky." But it's possible he's right. He's a Stanford graduate. He's charming. He's handsome. Except for the tattoos, he looks like a perfectly nice boy.
Miles laughs. "You know they will."
"But how do you know?"
"Cause I know you." He runs his fingertips over my tank top. "And I know Orange County parents. Where do yours live?"
"Newport Beach."
"Spoiled rich girl." He shakes his head in mock outrage.
"Yeah, and your Malibu mansion is just a place to hang your hat?"
He nods. "When's the last time you saw them?"