I come awake with a gasp, my heart hammering in my chest. For an instant, I don’t know where I am. I reach for Jake, but I moan in disappointment when I realize he’s not here.

“It was just a dream,” I mutter. A dream in which Jake stayed the night, then served me breakfast in bed. Followed by the hottest morning cuddlefuck a girl could dream of.

“What’s the saying?” I yawn, stretching out my arms above my head and hearing my bones pop. “If it’s too good to be true then . . .” An ache runs down my side, bringing my mind back to last night.

I don’t know how long it was before Hannah came back in. She’d woken me up, but I dropped off again quickly.

I’ve never felt anything like what Jake and I did last night. It was amazing, the way his lips danced on my skin, the way electricity crackled from every touch. He was powerful, tender, demanding, and giving, all at the same time. I’ve never been driven so wild to demand that a guy fuck me. I blush as I remember telling him to fuck me.

“Those eyes,” I say to myself, lying back and putting my forearm over my eyes. “The way he touched me, the way he looked at me . . . he almost stopped my heart.”

There’s that nickname of his again, and as soon as the words come out of my mouth, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. Words and a tune start flowing through my head like a river.

I can’t stand this creep, where is my Superman?

He’s late, but I don’t give a damn.

One glance in his eyes, and I know what I need.

Gimme mouth to mouth, because he’s a total Heartstopper.

I jump out of bed and grab a pen and notepad from my nightstand, scribbling down some lyrics as I hum the tune that’s running around in my head. It’s been a long time since I had the urge to write a song. I’ve always been more of a performer than a creator. But being with Jake seems to have inspired me.

“What are you doing?”

The words pierce my consciousness, and I let out a cry, my pen clattering to the table as I jump and look in the doorway. Hannah is staring at me, clearly hungover, with her hair in a disheveled blonde halo, looking like a crazy cave woman. “Jesus, Hannah, you scared the shit out of me. Ever heard of knocking?”

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be working with Mr. Rabbit,” she half jokes. She comes over and flops on my bed, throwing her arm over her eyes and groaning melodramatically. “Shoot me, would you? I have the worst headache.”

“So much for being the responsible one,” I tease, closing my notebook after picking up my pen. “Talking shit about me, and you look like you got fucking wasted.”

Hannah’s mouth pinches as she keeps her eyes covered. “I’m a grown ass woman. I can do what I want. But it won’t happen again . . .”

The door creaks open, and we both jump and let out bloodcurdling screams. Mr. Felix stops and peers curiously back and forth between us, padding into the room before hopping up on the bed, looking at us both like he’d like to give us a long lecture on duties to the boss . . . namely, him.

“Jesus.” We both laugh. “Can we get any jumpier?”

Hannah lies back on the bed, still shading her eyes. “So how did you get home last night?”

She knows damn well how I got home. That’s not what she’s asking. “Jake drove me home, remember?”

Hannah lifts her arm, peering at me suspiciously. “And that’s all that happened?”

I do my best to keep a straight face. “Yes, what did you think might happen?”

Hannah grins painfully. “I don’t know, maybe you screwed him and actually killed him this time with that hungry pussy of yours? Is his body in the closet?” She gets up off my bed and goes over, yanking the door open and taking a look. “Yoo-hoo! Jake? You in here?” she calls. “If you’re alive, tap your foot. I’ll rescue you!”

“Oh, stop it!” I laugh. “He’s not here.” I grin, deciding to turn the tables on Hannah. “Speaking of getting hot and heavy, did you get down with Nathan?”

Hannah closes my closet, turning to look at me like I’m crazy. “You must be out of your damn mind. He’s cute and all, but he’s not my type.”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, unconvinced. “I don’t know, you were giving him a few looks like you were more than ready to ride his pony.”

Hannah growls. “I’m gonna kill you.” She starts toward the bed, then stops, nodding at my notebook. “What were you doing, anyway?”

“Writing a song.”

Hannah gawks in surprise. “A song? Now I know something’s really going on. It’s Jake, isn’t it? He’s got you seeing stars.”

“No,” I reply, even as I blush. I’m a terrible liar when it comes to Hannah.

“Come on, spill it. No teasing, no bullshit.”

I look at Hannah, who’s got her arms crossed, then roll my eyes. “Okay, maybe he is the reason, but singing at the club last night awakened something in me that I didn’t think was there anymore. Something I buried, and I want to find it again.”

I expect Hannah to laugh at me, to call me silly or something. Instead, she bites her lip then gives me a sad smile. “Okay, babe. If you need it, then I’ve got your back. Just . . .”

“What?”

Hannah sighs. “Don’t fall in love with Jake, okay? I could see it in your eyes, in the way you performed. You weren’t there for the crowd. You were cock teasing him and loving it. But more than that . . . I saw the way you looked at him. Just, be careful.”

“I am,” I reply, and Hannah sighs again. “What?”

“Nothing. I’ve got your back.”

I bite my lip. “I know.”

* * *

At work the following Monday, I try to avoid Jake whenever I can. I don’t know why I’m doing it. I want to see him. I want to talk to him. I want to be with him.

Even though I try not to, I find myself stealing glances at him when he’s in his office. As he talks, as he gestures, everything he does, he’s sexy. He commands the room like he owns it. His confidence is pure arousal, and I can’t help but rub my thighs together as I try to get work done.

Also, I can't get the song out of my head, and I find myself scribbling lyrics whenever Jake is around. Not all of them fit in this song, but there are some that do.

“Keeping a diary over there?” Matt asks out of the blue while I’m in the midst of trying to write the song instead of working.

“What’s it to you?” I growl, snapping the notebook closed.

“You keep looking off into space lately, scribbling in that book. Got someone on your mind?” He raises his eyebrows toward Jake’s office, and it unsettles me. I’m sure he’s just fishing. How the hell could he know anything?

“Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

Matt walks away, grumbling under his breath about moody bitches, and I’m pissed off. But more importantly, I’m wondering if he’s actually picked up on something. If he has, other people probably have also.

After lunch, I get up and go knock on Jake’s door. Elena’s still out at lunch, but Jake just came back from downstairs, and if I’m going to have any private moments with him, this is the time.

“Come in!”

I step inside, closing the door quietly behind me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says back, giving me a smile that makes the warmth between my legs rise to a deep burn. I do my best to reserve myself, but it’s hard. He looks so handsome with his tie loosened and his hair ruffled from a fresh shower. He just finished his lunchtime workout. Watching his biceps flex as he fixes his shirt and tie, I remember how his lips and hands felt all over my body. The tension is so thick, I want to run and jump into his arms, sweep the stuff off his desk, and have him take me right here on top of his blotter.

I blink, clearing my mind. I’m about to tell him that what happened in the elevator and later when we got down and dirty was a fluke, that it can’t happen again. Suddenly, he grins, holding up a hand. “Wait, I can see what’s in your eyes, and I’ll let you tell me, but first . . . I have a proposition for you.”

“What?” I ask, hoping and also not hoping it’s for me to get on my knees under his desk. Because I just might do it if he asks.

“Nathan’s been going gaga all weekend, and I have too. We want to put you as a drawing act. One night on the weekends. You said you love to sing. The pay would be good. Not better than here, but it’s only one night a week.”

I stand in shock. I hadn't expected something like this. Sexual? Sure. But to sing . . . “Oh, my God.”

“The people loved you. Nathan and I were shocked by how many people requested for you to come back. Seriously, you should see the club’s Facebook page. There’s over three hundred likes to someone requesting that you sing some more. They want you.”

His eyes gleam, seeming to say, And I want you too.

I breathe, still stunned. The tune of the song I’ve begun writing for him hums in my head. Staring at his face, I realize I can’t say no to him. I’m weak in the knees. But I also don’t know if I should say yes.

“Well?” he says, taking his seat behind his desk and giving me that same smile. “I know you want this.”

I stand there, leaning against his office door, uncertain. The fact is, music to me is like an addiction. It was so hard to walk away from it last time. I spent weeks unable to sleep on Fridays and Saturdays because those were my performance nights. I still wake up sometimes with a little voice inside me wondering where the stage is, where the crowds are.

If I do this, I don’t want that to happen again. Jake doesn’t know what he’s asking for. I’ll have to train again. Vocal exercises, getting my body back in shape to maintain the high energy performances that I have to do . . . wardrobe, practicing lyrics, all of it. How’s it going to affect my work?

I tried the club scene before, and it went nowhere but having one club love me. This can’t be much different. Sure, I’m excited right at this moment, and yeah, Club Jasmine loved me Friday night, but once people got used to me, it would die down. I’d be right back to being a local act and that’s it.

Still, maybe it’s enough. The idea of singing, of being on stage . . . even if it’s not my name selling out big shows, it feeds a piece of my heart. When I sing, I put my soul out there, vulnerable and excited to see if the audience will respond with cheers. And I can see Jake genuinely wants me to do it. Damn me, there’s a part of me that wants to please him, too. Finally, I take a deep breath and look into his expectant eyes.

“I’ll think about it.”