Several glasses of champagne and a few hours later, I weaved my way down the hall to my bedroom.

Faith and I had toasted my career-limiting decision to be ‘difficult’ in her trailer. I’d had an enjoyable evening listening to her regale me with stories of her twenties and all the occasions she’d been branded ‘difficult’. When she let her guard down, Faith was so much warmer and funnier than I’d anticipated.

I smiled to myself, stumbling, and my shoulder bumped the wall.

“Whoops.” I giggled. I was definitely going to pay for the glasses of champagne I’d consumed when it was time to wake up at four in the morning for tomorrow’s shoot.

“Oh, well,” I mumbled.

I was so busy talking to myself I barely noticed the noise coming out of Damon’s studio.

I leaned back against the wall and listened properly.

“Oh, my,” I breathed.

It wasn’t noise at all. It was an amazing song I’d never heard before. It was almost a ballad except for the edgy blues guitar that was playing. And the guy singing. Who was he? Damon had never played this band before. I’d have to ask him who it was. The guy’s voice was sexy and smooth and deep and filled me with a sudden surge of desire.

I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the music while my head whirled from the alcohol.

The music stopped mid-chorus and I heard voices talking.

My eyes flew open.

Oh my God. Damon wasn’t playing recorded music. Someone was playing live.

I pressed a hand to my chest and my skin felt warm. I’d left the shirt open as an act of defiance. Damn right I could be sexy. But from now on, I’d be sexy on my own terms, thank you very much.

My heart beat faster as I crept away from the wall, toward the door to Damon’s studio.

It was open just a crack and I peered in, then sucked in a sharp breath.

Holy hell, Gabe was here. Damon was sitting at the drums chatting to him. That had been Gabe singing? It was his guitar doing strange things to my belly and his voice that had felt like a caress on my skin?

I stumbled backward in shock and tripped over my own damn feet. I was still too tipsy to have the forethought to shut the hell up as I fell. I squealed as my butt hit the ground.

“Ow,” I winced, rubbing my hip, which had also taken the brunt of my clumsiness.

The door to Damon’s studio flew open and Gabe appeared at my feet.

“Shit. Are you OK?” He didn’t wait for me to answer and scooped me into his arms.

I moaned, my head spinning. I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from Gabe. Once again his intoxicating scent made me want to bury my head in his chest and breathe him in.

“Crap.” Gabe’s arms were around my waist and he released one of them to support my head.

Damon wasn’t so sympathetic. “Chloe? What the fuck?”

I tried to smile. “Hi.”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Were you spying on us?”

I pouted. “No.” I focused on Gabe again and my stomach tightened when I saw him looking at my lips.

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Damon demanded.

“Huh?” Oh. Gabe’s eyes were even more amazing up close. Flecks of hazel were scattered through the gray.

“Chloe?” Gabe said gently.

“Oh, right. Sorry, yeah. I was just coming home and I heard you playing—it sounded fantastic by the way—and I was going to come and tell you so, and I, ah, tripped.”

Yeah, that sounded reasonable. For a drunk person.

“You’ve been drinking.” Gabe appeared amused.

“Seriously?” In comparison, Damon did not look happy. “Aren’t you supposed to be filming?”

“We were.” Gabe was still holding me and I wondered how long we could stay like this. My hip pressed against his thigh and I could feel heat coursing through me where we touched.

“Chloe?” Damon sounded tired.

“Sorry.” Having a normal conversation in such close proximity to Gabe wasn’t proving easy. “We’d finished filming and Faith and I were celebrating.”

“How can you be finished filming?” Damon asked. “I thought you had another six weeks on this movie?”

I grinned and Gabe removed his hand from my head, but thankfully he kept holding onto my waist.

“Yeah, that’s right. We were celebrating the fact that I am now officially difficult,” I told them proudly.

Damon stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“You wouldn’t understand. You’re a guy.” I kept smiling at Gabe. “I’m not nice anymore,” I whispered.

His lips curled in amusement. “I wouldn’t say that.”

I patted the bare skin above my breasts and his gaze lowered.

“See?” I said triumphantly, poking out my chest.

I saw him swallow.

“When the director wanted to expose my breasts to the world, I protested! I’m now officially difficult.” Fortunately I was too happy from the champagne to feel it necessary to mention that I’d filmed the scene anyway.

“Hang on.”

I felt a stab of disappointment when Gabe set me on my feet properly and let me go. “What do you mean the director wanted to expose your . . . ” He swallowed again.

“Hey, can we not talk about my sister’s breasts? It’s weird.”

“Oh, you’re going to be seeing a whole lot more of them,” I promised, and Damon paled noticeably while Gabe’s mouth flattened. I jabbed a thumb at my assets. “These are part of my sexual currency, in case you haven’t noticed. You don’t think I get leading roles because of my skill as an actress, do you? No way. In this town it’s because of my hotness.” The word hotness had come out in a whisper, like I was making the point I was sizzling hot.

“Jesus,” Damon said.

“No, it’s true! No more sweet and innocent Chloe from now on! Hey.” I grabbed one of my auburn curls and was forced to go cross-eyed to get a good look at it. “Maybe I should get my hair cut? You know, like Miley or Katy Perry? That would be cool.”

“You’re not getting your hair cut.”

Both Damon and I looked over at Gabe in shock.

“Ooh, you’re angry. I like it when you get angry.”

His eyes were doing that stormy thing again and it was just so damn sexy.

Gabe blinked and Damon looked a bit sick.

Damon stepped toward me. “Sorry dude. I’ll just help her to her room and I’ll be back in a sec.”

Damon caught my arm and started dragging me away. I squirmed in his grip and then slapped him away.

“No! I’m difficult! Didn’t you hear me?”

“I already knew that, sis.” His voice was calm and his dark eyes, so very different to my own blue eyes, focused intently on me. I knew that look. This was Damon about to attack.

I edged away and squealed when Damon dived for me, then ran up the hallway giggling.

“For fuck’s sake, Chloe!”

Damon sprinted after me but I managed to dive into the doorway of his bedroom. I slammed it shut in his face and locked it, all the while laughing manically.

He banged on it. “Dammit, Chloe! Open the door.”

My laughter subsided to a giggle and I crept through his bedroom. I had no idea why I was creeping, it just seemed like the thing to do when I was trying to make my escape.

I went through his bathroom and out the other side, which connected to an unused guest bedroom.

Then squealed—or tried to—when a hand closed over my mouth.

“Got you,” Gabe whispered in my ear.

I twisted in his grip, then went limp in his arms. This was a battle I didn’t want to fight. His other arm was around my waist and my back was pressed against his chest. I could feel the curve of my butt pressing into him and I inhaled a shaky breath.

I felt myself sway—in a good way. The man was like a drug to me.

Gabe steadied me. “Hey. How much have you had to drink?” He moved his hand from my mouth.

“I’m not sure,” I said softly, not wanting Damon to hear us. “Three or four? But it was on an empty stomach. What can I say? I’m a cheap drunk.”

“And difficult.”

The amusement in his deep voice made my toes tingle.

“Damn right. Except you know what I don’t get? Why can’t I still be sweet and difficult? Or at least sweet and sexy?” I twisted in his grip to look up at him and bit my lip. Gosh, he was gorgeous.

His eyes roamed my face, lingering on my mouth. “Dirty sweet,” he said, his voice low.

I released my lip. Everything about the moment was too much. Or at least my body thought so.

Oh. I wasn’t the only one.

I jumped away from Gabe like I’d been stung and stood there facing him, my breathing labored. Yes, I might be a virgin but I was experienced enough to know exactly what had just been pressing into my backside.

His eyes dropped to my exposed chest, which was currently moving up and down with the difficulty of drawing the breath in and out of my lungs.

Gabe cleared his throat. “It’s from a song. Get It On by T-Rex. It’s a classic.”

There was no way he couldn’t notice, right? There was no mistaking the outline of his arousal pressed against his fitted denim jeans, and I went dry at the mouth.

I licked my lips. Gabe followed the motion of my tongue and his eyes darkened.

“I want you,” I blurted, then snapped my mouth shut, my eyes wide. Had I really just said that? “To go out with you,” I added, like that’s what I’d meant all along. “You know, like to dinner or something.”

“Or something?”

Yep, that was definitely innuendo. I would have thought innuendo was pointless at this stage given his little—or big—problem, but it still made me weak at the knees.

I rushed on. “If you don’t want to that’s fine—”

“OK.”

OK he didn’t want to or OK he wanted to do . . . something?

I wished the room would stop swaying. My prayers were answered a moment later, but not the way I wanted.

Damon strode into the room and took my arm. “There you are. Goddammit, Chloe, this isn’t fun.”

I let him drag me from the room, Gabe’s answer still echoing in my head.