I try to lose myself in the tedium of data entry to keep my mind off last night with Gavin. All of it. The idea of groupies throwing themselves at him, the discussion on piercings, and the way his eyes rolled back in his head as I tugged at the metal bar through his nipple with my teeth when we got back to his hotel.

And the way he makes my heart skip and dance in my chest.

As grateful as I am for stumbling into him, I’m well aware that this has the potential of being spring break all over again. We’re on a short schedule with this, and I’m desperately afraid of the end. Just because I have no plans to run away again doesn’t mean that this is going anywhere.

He’s got responsibilities, plans that are not here. Recording in LA and then touring in Europe.

Lord, things have changed.

A notification pops up in the lower-right corner of my computer, and like she can feel my thoughts, Lis hits up the group message we have with my roommate, Kate.

Lis answers with a heart emoji, and Kate, of course, takes it to the next level with an eggplant and a thumbs-up.

I switch my computer to Airplane mode to stay focused, and I plow through another full file before leaning back in my chair, the bones between my shoulders popping and cracking. It’s well after noon, so I push back my chair and head for the small kitchenette to refill my water bottle and see if anything good magically appeared in the vending machine.

Gavin was outrageously selfish with my time this morning, so I didn’t have time to run into the bodega for any snacks today. Not that I’m about to complain …

And there go my thoughts, right back to the way he moves, the things he does, and the way he makes me feel.

The rattle of my quarters tumbling down through the mechanism echoes through the empty room. Kit Kat, Twizzlers, and a package of pretzels should get me through the rest of the afternoon without hitting the hangry wall. With my loot in hand, I turn to fill my bottle from the water cooler and walk right into Brooks, dropping everything to the floor.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” I squat down to pick up the bags of sustenance, letting the extra quarters roll away from the scene of the crime.

Surely, my pretzels aren’t completely crushed.

Brooks is still way too close when I stand, causing me to take a half-step back, my ass meeting the edge of the table taking up the small bit of space. A condescending sneer mars his face as he plucks the Kit Kat from my hand. “Nice. No wonder the curve of your ass is so obvious in your skirt. Your attire is less than professional as it is.” He tosses the package to the table behind me. “Maybe you should skip that and opt for a salad. I’d be happy to take you out for something less … caloric.”

Is he kidding me right now?

“Thanks. I’m going to have to pass,” is thankfully what I say out loud because, on the inside, I’m seething and calling him a dick a hundred times over.

I move to the side in order to get past him, but he crowds me again.

“Your lowlife boy toy likes the extra cushion on you? Must be a class preference,” he jeers, entertaining himself with his arrogance. “I’m sure he and your father could have some scintillating conversations over a fine glass of Lagavulin.”

Grinding my molars together, I wait for Brooks to let me pass.

He’s so close and yet he couldn’t be further from the truth. If my father could get over himself for a quick minute, Gavin would be exactly the type of conversationalist he’d spend hours debating with. But being the asshole he is, my dad wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Not deterred by my lack of response, Brooks just keeps running his judgmental mouth as I shove my apparently abundant hip into the table to squeeze by to escape his shit. Naturally, I grab my candy as I go and head straight to the restroom.

The door swings shut, lulling me into a false sense of security. After doing what needs to be done, I wash my hands and turn the taps as cold as they will go. I lean into the mirror to check for any stray blemishes or overly large pores or whatever. Instead, the reflection of the door opening and Brooks sliding into the ladies’ room grabs my attention, snapping me up straight.

“What are you doing? You can’t be in here.”

Why the hell am I the only one who had to pee at this God-given moment?

“Do you have any idea how rude it is to walk away from someone when they’re talking to you?” He leans into the mirror next to me as though this is totally a normal situation. One that he does on a regular basis.

“Not nearly as rude as it is to barge into the women’s restroom. Brooks, you need to leave. This is wholly inappropriate, and—”

“Miss George, I can assure you, I’m just looking out for your best interests while you’re here in the service of my company,” he chastises.

Slamming the tap closed, I grab my snacks and empty bottle and push past this asshole, striding back to the sanctity of my conference room.

This assignment can’t end soon enough.

“He followed you where?” Gavin looks at me over the small table in the bistro he picked for dinner tonight.

“I know, right? It’s just wrong on so many levels,” I say around a bite of Bolognese, the flavors bursting across my tongue. “Okay, but … be honest … is my ass too big? I mean, he’s brought it up more than once.” I hate that I’m letting his words get to me. This self-doubt is not me; it’s not what I do.

The candlelight reflects back at me in Gavin’s eyes, giving them the effect of dancing. “He’s a dick, Gracyn. Nothing but a pasty-ass dick who feels the need to spew sludge, putting others down in order to feel bigger himself.”

The silence is palpable for that brief moment before we both snort out raw laughter.

Once I’ve caught my breath, I add, “Must be hard for him.”

“And his dick-up lines need some serious work—”

“He’s just all pent-up. Needs to blow off some steam.”

“In all honesty, if we’re really going to sit here and make dick references, he’s diseased. Spreading his personality herpes everywhere. His herps-onality.”

All around us, heads are turning. Our loud, raucous laughter is drawing all kinds of attention because what’s funnier than a slew of dick jokes, and before long, someone approaches the table.

Shit, this is what had Gavin all uptight at dinner last night.

“Hey, man.” The guy grabs a chair from the table next to us and swings it around to settle at ours. “You raising hell tonight?” our new addition asks Gavin, giving me a nod. He stares at me for a bit before turning back to Gavin, shit-eating grin on his face. “Is this … could it possibly be …”

I feel like I’m on display. Like I should be performing or entertaining them somehow. Both men lean back in their chairs, eyes squinting and heads tilting in time with each other.

“In fact, it not only could be, but it is. In the flesh,” Gavin drawls. He shifts in his seat and stretches his legs out under the table, trapping my legs between his calves. “She’s really real.”

“Good to see you again, Gracyn. I’m Nate. We met back in Florida a while ago.”

He offers me his hand across the table, and recognition flares.

“Yes! How are you? You look great, rested.”

Nate and Gavin awkwardly look at me.

“Last time I saw you, Kane … it was Kane, right? He was keeping you up at night.”

Nate’s cheeks flame, and he nods, looking away from me. “He was. Wow … I’m really sorry that’s how you remember me.”