Wicked Innocence (Wicked Innocence 1)

She laughed again. “See? That’s exactly what I mean.” She pulled her legs up and hugged them to her chest. “Sometimes I wish it could be this easy with everyone.”

“So work on that,” I encouraged her.

She shook her head.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because it’s safer not to. The less people I let in, the smaller the chances are of me getting hurt.”

Hearing her talk like that just about snapped my heart in two. What had happened in this girl’s life to make her think that way? It just wasn’t right for her to be so cynical about life…about love.

Because you’re so different, a little voice in my head pointed out. How many people have you let in?

“I get it,” I finally said. “I do the same thing. But I think I do it for different reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve hurt a lot of the people I love. I think I push people away because I’m afraid of hurting them.” I stood up. This was way too deep a conversation to be having without alcohol. “Drink?” I asked her as I opened the small fridge.

“A soda would be good,” she smiled. She raised her hand at the beer in my hand. “I thought you said you didn’t drink.”

“I don’t,” I said, popping the top and sitting back down. “I also don’t pour my heart out to pretty girls.”

She smiled shyly. “You think I’m pretty?”

My face flushed. Did she seriously not realize what she did to every guy she came in contact with? She was a walking, talking wet dream. And that naivety made her all the more sexy. There was no bigger turn-off than a girl who knew she was hot.

“I’m going to avoid answering that at the risk of saying something I shouldn’t,” I muttered. I focused on the can in my hand, willing the conversation to move away from how hot I thought she was.

Until now, I’d done pretty well at hiding how attracted I was to her. Hell, I’d even managed to hide it from myself. Seeing her sitting opposite me with that pretty mahogany colored hair tied up in a messy bun, losing myself in her stunning emerald colored eyes…I was at risk of fucking everything up.

She’s twenty-one—four years younger than you.

You’re her manager.

But the thing stopping me most from leaping forward and kissing those sexy, plump lips was how obviously fragile she was emotionally right now. I didn’t want to be the guy who fucked her up even more than she already was—and if anyone could do that, it would be me.

I yawned and stretched my arms over my head. “At the risk of sounding old, I think I’m ready for bed.”

She raised her eyebrows, her expression skeptical. “It’s barely eight o’clock.”

“Call me old, whatever. But seriously, you try sleeping in one of those fucking bunks in the van. Especially with how loudly Kam snores. Just be grateful you have the room,” I muttered, getting to my feet.

She giggled and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself. “Sleep tight, old man. I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave me a smile and walked over to the door.

I watched her leave and then flicked the lock on the door.

Fuck. What are you thinking, Sax? You need to stop this before it goes too far.

When we were together, we chatted so easily. I knew how easily things could shift from friendship to complicated—especially with the thoughts that were going through my head. She was such a sweet girl. I’d hate myself if I ended up hurting her.

My phone buzzed over by my bed. I walked over and picked it up and saw a message from Stace.

Hope you don’t expect me to give this loveable mutt back.

I laughed as I scrolled down to the photo of Broosky curled up in her lap. You could barely see her poking out from under him.

Don’t get too attached. You’re not keeping my dog. Are you still coming to Vegas?