Several hours earlier…

“I know you love this band,” Susie said. “Come on. Please?”

Susie was my roommate and a good friend, but she was a notorious rock and roll groupie. The woman had a pube collection, for God’s sake. She’d sworn me to secrecy on that one. She hadn’t needed to bother. Who the heck would I tell? Pubic hair didn’t regularly come up in conversation. Also, keeping locks of rock stars’ gorilla salad in zippered bags made me kind of sick. I’d turned her down when she offered to show it to me.

“Sorry, Suze. Just not up for it tonight.”

“I’m so sorry Rod Hanson turned down your rewrite. But sitting around wallowing in self-pity on a Friday night won’t make it any better.”

“And going to a concert will?”

“A concert and an after-party. And watching Jett Draconis and Zane Michaels on stage is an experience every woman should have at least once.”

I did love Emerald Phoenix’s music, and yes, Jett Draconis and Zane Michaels were as gorgeous as Greek gods. But…

“Not tonight.”

She pulled me off the couch. “Not taking no for an answer. You’re going.”

Why was I here again?

I stifled a yawn. Watching a couple of women do each other while others undressed, clamoring for a minute of the band’s attention, wasn’t my idea of a good time. The two women were gorgeous, of course, with tight bodies and big boobs. The contrasts in their skin and hair color made their show even more exotic. They were interesting to watch, but they didn’t do much for me sexually. Maybe if I weren’t so exhausted. I’d pulled the morning and noon shifts, and my legs were aching.

Even so, I was glad Susie had dragged me to the concert, if only to see and hear Jett Draconis live. His deep bass-baritone was rich enough to fill an opera house but had just enough of a rasp to make him the ultimate rock vocalist. And when he slid into falsetto and then back down to bass notes? Panty-melting. No other words could describe the effect. Watching him had mesmerized me. He lived his music as he sang and played, not as if it were coming from his mouth but emanating from his entire body and soul. The man had been born to perform.

A true artist.

Which only made me feel like more of a loser.

Jett Draconis was my age, had hit the LA scene around the same time I had, and he’d made it big in no time. Me? I was still a struggling screenwriter working a dead-end job waiting tables at a local diner where B-list actors and directors hung out. Not only was I not an A-lister, I wasn’t even serving them. When I couldn’t sell a movie to second-rate producer Rod Hanson? I hadn’t yet said the words out loud, but the time had come to give up.

“What are you doing hanging out here all by yourself?”

Susie’s words knocked me out of my barrage of self-pity. For a minute anyway.

“Just bored. Can we leave soon?”

“Are you kidding me? The party’s just getting started.” She pointed to the two women on the floor. “That’s Janet and Lindy. Works every time. They always go home with someone in the band.”

“Only proves that men are pigs.”

Susie didn’t appear to be listening. Her gaze was glued on Zane, the keyboardist, whose gaze was in turn glued on the two women cavorting in the middle of the floor. She turned to me. “Let’s make out.”

I squinted at her, as if that might help my ears struggling in the loud din. I couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly. “What?”

“You and me. Kiss me.” She planted a peck right on my mouth.

I stepped away from her. “Are you kidding me?”

“It works. Look around. All the girls do it.”

“I’m not a girl. I’m a thirty-year-old woman.”

“Don’t you think I’m hot?” she asked.

“Seriously? Of course you are.” Indeed, Susie looked great with her dark hair flowing down to her ass and her form-fitting leopard-print tank and leggings. “So is Angelina Jolie, but I sure as heck don’t want to make out with her. I don’t swing that way.” Well, for Angelina Jolie I might. Or Lupita Nyong’o. But that was it.

“Neither do I—at least not long-term. But it’ll get us closer to the band.”

“Is this what you do at all the after-parties you go to?”

She giggled. “Sometimes. But only if there’s someone as hot as you to make out with. I have my standards.”

Maybe I should have been flattered. But no way was I swapping spit with my friend to get some guy’s attention. They were still just men, after all. Even the gorgeous and velvet-voiced Jett Draconis, who seemed to be watching the floor show.

Susie inched toward me again. I turned my head just in time so her lips and tongue swept across my cheek.

“Sorry, girl. If you want to make out, I’m sure there’s someone here who will take you up on your offer. Not me, though. It would be too…weird.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it would be a little odd. I mean, we live together and all. But I hate that you’re just standing here against the wall not having any fun. And I’m not ready to go home yet.”

I sighed. This was Susie’s scene, and she enjoyed it. She had come to LA for the rockers and was happy to work as a receptionist at a talent agency as long as she made enough money to keep her wardrobe in shape and made enough contacts to get into all the after-parties she wanted. That was the extent of her aspirations. She was living her dream, and she’d no doubt continue to live it until her looks gave out…which wouldn’t happen for a while with all the Botox and plastic surgery available in LA. She was a good soul, but right now her ambition was lacking.

“Tell you what,” I said. “Have fun. Do your thing. I’ll catch an Uber home.”

She frowned. “I wanted to show you a good time. I’m sorry I suggested making out. I get a little crazy at these things.”

I chuckled. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Please stay. I’ll introduce you to some people.”

“Any producers or directors here?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Mostly the band and their agents, and of course the sound and tech guys who like to try to get it on with the groupies. I doubt any film people are here.”

“Then there isn’t anyone I need to meet, but thanks for offering.” I pulled my phone out of my clutch to check the time. It was nearing midnight, and this party was only getting started.

“Sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Susie asked.

“Afraid not.” I pulled up the Uber app and ordered a ride. “But have a great time, okay? And stay safe, please.”

“I always do.” She gave me a quick hug and then lunged toward a group of girls, most of them still dressed, thank God.

I scanned the large room. Susie and her new gaggle of friends were laughing and drinking cocktails. A couple girls were slobbering over the drummer’s dick. The two beautiful women putting on the sex show had abandoned the floor, and the one with dark skin was draped between the legs of Zane Michaels, who was, believe it or not, even prettier than she was. The other sat on Jett Draconis’s lap.

Zane Michaels was gorgeous, but Jett Draconis? He made his keyboardist look average in comparison. I couldn’t help staring. His hair was the color of strong coffee, and he wore it long, the walnut waves hitting below his shoulders. His eyes shone a soft hazel green. His face boasted high cheekbones and a perfectly formed nose, and those lips… The most amazing lips I’d ever seen on a man—full and flawless. I’d gawked at photos of him in magazines, not believing it was possible for a man to be quite so perfect-looking—beautiful and rugged handsome at the same time.

Not that I could see any of this at the moment, with the blonde on top of him blocking most of my view.

I looked down at my phone once more. My driver was still fifteen minutes away. Crap.

Then I looked up.

Straight into the piercing eyes of Jett Draconis.