By the time she looked up, it was already too late.

If she had been given proper notice, she could have slammed her finger against the close elevator button, the button that nobody ever really used except in emergencies.

Because this was definitely an emergency.

She made a valiant effort, but she wasn’t quick enough.

The doors began to draw closed, but Rory was able to slip into the elevator before it closed, the doors bustling back open as he stood in front of her, panting.

She thought of running out of the elevator feigning the need to vomit, but she imagined that’d only lead Rory to believe she was pregnant or something equally ridiculous. It had only been two days since they hooked up, but it felt like a lifetime.

It felt like another lifetime there in the elevator as he simply stood before her, his chest heaving and his gorgeous eyes boring into her soul. And when the elevator doors closed behind him, she felt as if she was suffocating.

“I have something to say to you,” he said, his voice low and husky. “And you’re going to listen.”

“You should have stayed with your date, Rory,” she whispered thickly, sure he could hear the pounding of her heart.

His shoulders rose and fell and he gave her the slightest shake of his head. “After our little display downstairs, I’m sure that wasn’t an option any longer. And even if it was, I wouldn’t go.”

“Well,” she forced from her dry throat, “I’ll have another date for you by tomorrow evening.”

“Stop,” he commanded her and took a step forward. She had no choice but to retreat back one step until she was parked against the wooden beam of the elevator. “Just stop doing that.”

“It’s my job.” She swallowed nervously and stole a glance at the digital screen indicating that they were going way too slow. “And though you might not have anything to worry about, I very much prefer keeping my job.”

“This isn’t about your job.”

“You’re wrong.” She glanced away from him, determined to look anywhere she could—at the digital screen with ascending red numbers, at the floor, at her own shoes—anywhere that wasn’t him.

She had been trying so damn hard to keep her emotions in check all night. It had all began when she was watching him perform, and then it only worsened when she was forced to watch him with the woman she had set him up with. Her job was interfering with what she actually wanted, but she was used to that. She didn’t get where she was in life by following her heart. That much was certain.

“What do you want from me, Rory?”

“I want to take you home.”

“Yeah,” she forced a nervous chuckle, “the elevator is doing a fine job at doing that.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I do.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. She went to step past him, but he threw his arm out, blocking her. Ever the clever girl, she simply ducked underneath his arm and hightailed it out of the elevator.

When she heard the door ding behind her followed by the familiar sound of the hydraulic doors sealing shut, she prayed with bated breath that Rory had taken the hint and was on his way back down to the party in the ballroom.

She rounded the corner at the end of the hall, sweeping toward her room in a frenzy. It was just up ahead. A few more steps and then—

Fwap.

She dropped to the floor like she’d walked into an invisible wall, her long flowing dress caught under the heel of her shoe. Instead of picking herself up right away, she rolled onto her back and scooted herself against the wall. Grumbling under her breath, she reached for the shoe that had betrayed her and ripped it off. Figuring it was no good to hobble back to her room with only one shoe, she took off the other too.

“Are you always this clumsy when trying to make an escape?” Rory questioned calmly as he stepped forward to offer her a hand up.

She resisted at first, letting out a heavy sigh. “I thought you had a one-way ticket back to the party downstairs.”

“You thought wrong.” He reached for her hand, the feel of his flesh sending a sizzle through her, and pulled her back to her feet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“They have a word for that.” She turned on her feet and marched toward her room. “They call people like that stalkers, but what do I know?”

“I don’t know much of anything right now,” he said from behind her, and she could hear his footsteps so she knew he was following her, intent to keep his promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. “I just know that I want to be around you, Gina.”

She retrieved her card key from her bra but couldn’t bring herself to swipe herself into her room. She pivoted and leaned back against the door. “Are you intent on making my life hell?”

“I’m intent on getting the truth from you.”

Which was exactly what she was intent on making sure he didn’t do.

Hand shaking, she slid the key into the slot. The indicator light flashed red so she tried again. Red once more.

“Shit,” she grumbled under her breath and pounded one fist against the door.

All she needed was to escape to her room so she could be alone with her thoughts. The last thing she wanted or needed was to do something idiotic and the longer she was with Rory, the more likely it was that she was going to do something beyond stupid.

She felt his presence hulking over her first, and then his actual shadow second.

“Can I ask you a question?” His voice was dark and husky, and her breath caught in her throat just listening to him.

“Well, it seems like I’ve been locked out of my room.” She punched her fist against the door once more before turning to face the man she was sure was going to be responsible for destroying her both mentally and professionally. “So, I would say that means unless I make a mad dash for the exit, that I’m not really going to have much of a choice.” She crossed her arms defensively. It was easier to keep him at bay and to keep her from jumping his bones the way she had found herself fantasizing about lately.

“Why are you so against the idea of us even trying to make something out of this thing between us? Is it because I’m a musician?”

She looked heavenward. This was the last conversation she wanted to be having. Hell, she couldn’t even bring herself to talk about it with her closest friends or family. She simply looked away, hoping he’d back down.

Fat chance.

He reached forward and pulled the key card from her hand before he pushed past her and slid the card into the reader.

The indicator flashed green and the door propped open. She squinted as she held the door open for a second too long and then glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming in or not?”

“Yeah.” He said the words coolly, and walked past as casually as if they’d planned it all ahead of time.

It was dark, but she had been staying at the hotel long enough to know the layout of the room by heart. She tossed her heels onto the bed before flipping the lights on.

The sudden flicker of the chandelier overhead blinded her, but she didn’t care as she stepped to the minibar. She was going to need some tequila to get through this conversation.

In the mirror above the minibar, she watched as Rory took a seat on the bed directly behind her. She prepared two shots, one for herself and one for him. He gazed at her curiously as she stepped to him and pushed a shot into his hand.

“Cheers.” She clinked her glass against his and threw it back in one go. Rory did the same and when he was finished, she collected the glass from his hand and set them both down inside the small stainless steel sink.

His gaze continued to follow her as she fumbled nervously to twist the cap back onto the bottle of tequila. When she was finished, she braced her palms against the lip of the bar and exhaled softly.

“I used to date Peter Ebon,” she said slowly, and then cleared her throat and met his gaze through the mirror. “I thought I was in love with him. Gave him everything I had inside me to give, and then I found out he wasn’t who I thought he was.”

She turned to him with a half-assed shrug. “He was a liar. A cheater. A man so high on fame that he either forgot who he was or he let his true colors show. It doesn’t matter though, does it? Now he’s getting married to one of the many woman he cheated on me with.”

“Ouch.” Rory dragged his thumb to his lips, looking anywhere but at Gina. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s okay.” She forced a smile. “It’s not good to hold on to things forever, and it’s good to get it out, I guess.”

She was tired, exhausted, even. Between work, Rory, and Peter’s wedding, she felt as if she had had enough burdens to last for a year. It was fate’s cruel game she was playing and she felt no matter what she did, she was going to come out the loser. She dropped down onto the bed beside Rory and folded her hands in her lap, her skin pressed against the silk of her dress.

“I don’t even know if I would have put myself into that situation if it weren’t for my family,” she continued. “To be honest, I’m not much for fame. I’ve seen a lot of famous people and I know what it does to them.”

“So why him? He was just that charming?” he asked, not unkindly.

She rolled her tongue over her bottom lip, trying to find the best way to explain what it had taken years for her to understand and accept. “It was partially that, I’m sure. Peter was new to fame and I was new to my career. Neither of us knew any better than to mix business with pleasure. But part of it?” She shook her head. “That was all insecurity. Peter was a smart guy with a building fortune and I was a girl who’d always been told her only chance in this world was marrying rich.”

“What do you mean?” Rory asked.

She took a deep breath. “Look, you had Bug. You and Bug did everything together and then you had the band as your brothers. For me, things were a little different. When you are a woman and you have a sister…well, there’s a natural comparison. And when there are only two of you? One has to be the pretty one and one…is not. My sister, Fiona, is brilliant, self assured, everything you could want to be as a woman. And as her younger sister, that mark was just set too high for me to surpass, you know?”

Rory shook his head. “I guess I don’t.”

“Fiona was the smart one. Fiona was the one with the future, so I was…not. I was the future trophy wife. Peter was the perfect man to make that happen and, even after what he did to me…” She shook her head. “It’s like they—my parents, I mean—still blame me for leaving or something.”

Rory turned to her with a frown. “That’s really fucked up.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“I know you’re apprehensive about us, whatever us is. And…I get it.” He placed a palm on her thigh, stealing her attention. “But I’m not Peter. I very much liked being with you and I don’t see anything wrong with that. That whole business and pleasure thing? It might have been like that with him, but it doesn’t have to be that way with me.”

She scooted away from his touch first and then stood with an exasperated sigh. “It’s about my job, which is to make sure the band is a success.” She combed one hand through her straightened hair that was beginning to curl again and winced. “I might be less-than-successful at love, but I’m a damn great PR specialist and it’s the one thing I have to be proud of.”

“First things first.” He looked up to her with a winning smile. “You’re not terrible at love.”

“Yeah? How do you know that when all the evidence is against me?”

“The evidence is that your ex is a piece of shit and you shouldn’t blame yourself, or allow your family to blame you for what he did.”

She swallowed nervously, knowing she had to run. He was talking sense and it wasn’t just to get into her pants. She was being vulnerable and she hated that, but it was too late to turn back the clocks. She couldn’t even if she tried, because whether it was because she had a moment of weakness or for other reasons, on some level she had let Rory in. And that was a key that was hard to take back once it had been given.

But she couldn’t find it in her heart to regret it right now, because the knot that had been in her chest for days now had started to unfurl at his supportive, sweet words.

“Secondly,” he started, “and I mean this in the least ass-kissing way possible, but I think you’re pretty great.”

She groaned, but her actions betrayed the buzzing of her lips as she dropped down into his lap. Sitting sideways, she felt him caress the small of her back.

“So what do you say, Gina? Me and you…tonight, Gina?”

She froze, feeling a little like a deer in the headlights.

God, she wanted to. So badly. But wouldn’t it make things all the more difficult down the line? Rory was still the band’s big hope for a heartthrob and she wouldn’t risk that.

And still…

“One more time,” she said, all the while knowing those three words were the second most dangerous three words in all of existence, behind those other three she refused to even think out loud.