I hadn’t had my fill of Heather Myles just yet. Usually a good romp with a woman was all it took to get me to stop thinking about her. Not this time.

I’d wanted to run right after her. In fact, it had taken every bit of strength I possessed not to grab her and drag her back up to my bedroom.

I had to forget her. I couldn’t pull someone as sweet and innocent as Heather into my fucked-up world.

The call from Alicia had spooked me. She didn’t usually keep such close tabs on me. Of course, I hadn’t ever jumped offstage to save a fan in the front row of one of my concerts from a bomb threat before.

At the time, I didn’t even know why I was doing it. I had acted on pure instinct—a drive to grab Heather and get her to safety, no matter the cost. I’d certainly had my fill of women over the past five years, and every once in a while, Alicia would surface to remind me of our bargain. Never before had I worried much about it. Even though I had begun to grow bored with groupies and fans who just wanted to fuck a rock star, I never imagined I would find someone who might make me wish I hadn’t made the deal.

I didn’t think Heather could be that person. Not at first.

But she had spooked Alicia. Alicia had noticed something different.

And something was different.

I never worried about falling in love. Why would I want that when I could have a new woman each night?

I was playing around on my guitar, waiting for the rest of the band for rehearsal, when Zane walked in. Actually Zeb. Zane Michaels was the name Alicia had given my classical pianist friend Zebulon Frankfurter. Yes, that was truly his given name. She had reinvented Zeb Frankfurter from classical pianist to rock star keyboardist Zane Michaels.

She had done the same thing for Jeremy Gustafson.

Jeremy Gustafson was a classically trained bass-baritone opera vocalist.

Jeremy Gustafson was me.

The world saw Jett Draconis, but inside I was still Jeremy.

And Jeremy had fallen in love.

Unfortunately, Jeremy didn’t exist anymore. Not in the real world. On the outside, I was Jett Draconis, and I wasn’t allowed to fall in love. Even if I did, I could never act on it. No woman in her right mind would agree to the terms of the deal I’d made. And if I reneged on the deal?

I couldn’t think about those consequences.

Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe this wasn’t love. Maybe it was just more of a loss than I’d ever experienced. Maybe I just needed a couple more fucks of Heather Myles’s tight little body to get her out of my system.

But that wouldn’t happen. Heather wasn’t like most women. I had essentially kicked her out of my bed this morning, and no way would she come running back. She was better than that. A class act.

“Hey, J.” Zane sauntered by me to his keyboard. “Where are the other guys?”

I fiddled with a few more chords. “Don’t know. I’m sure they’ll be here in a few.”

“Have you heard anything new about the bomb threat last night?” Zane asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. Probably just a hoax, like most of them are.”

“Yeah. At least no one was hurt.” Zane sat down at his keyboard, flipping some buttons. “I had an amazing time last night. Four women at once, man. We sure as hell weren’t getting laid like this when we were doing the classical shit.”

Four women at once. I’d had four women at once. Hell, Zane and I had had four women together. We’d done the group thing, the orgy thing, everything. Zane obviously hadn’t had his fill yet.

“Do you ever regret it?” I asked.

“Regret what?”

“Letting Alicia take us to the top?”

“Nope. This is the life, man. More money and more women than we ever thought possible. What’s to regret?”

“We’re not doing what we set out to do.”

“Man, I’m playing piano. So it’s a great big electric number and not a nine-foot Steinway. I can live with that. You’re singing. You’re a fucking sensation, J. You live in a mansion. You have everything you could possibly want.”

I couldn’t fault his words. Except that there were some things money couldn’t buy.

I’d made a deal to get to the top.

And I had regrets.

“So how’d it go with you last night?” Zane asked. “Did you get inside that cute little redhead’s pants?”

Normally I would’ve said yes. But Heather wasn’t a woman that men talked about. I didn’t want to talk about her in that way, not even with my best friend.

So I shook my head. “Turns out she’s not interested.”

“Not interested how? Or maybe you were the one who ended up not being interested.”

I could easily agree. Could easily say she wasn’t my thing. She was bad in bed. Yada yada yada. But it would be a big fat lie.

I owed Heather more than that.

“I was surprised too. But I guess rock stars just aren’t her thing.”

“Sorry, dude. If I’d known you went home alone…”

“What? You would’ve given up one of your four women for me?” I laughed. “Good one, Z.”

“Yeah.” He laughed as well. “I was wondering if you would buy that one.”

Tony and the rest of the guys arrived, the techs did our sound check, and we started our rehearsal.

But my heart wasn’t in it.

The fact wasn’t lost on the guys. When we took our first break, Tony said, “What’s up with you, J? Something bothering you today?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You’re not in the game. Where’s your brain?”

“I think it’s with a cute little redhead,” Zane said. “A cute little redhead who apparently doesn’t dig rock stars.”

“I’m cool, guys. There’s no redhead.”

“You jumped off stage for her,” Tony said. “It’s going to be all over the tabloids today. You do know that, don’t you?”

I sighed. Yes, I did know that. Heather didn’t deserve any of this. She didn’t deserve any of the fallout it would create. So it was better for the world to think she had turned me down. I could take it. There were ten women at any time who wanted to be in my bed.

I couldn’t pursue Heather Myles. I couldn’t fall in love.

The only answer was to never see her again.