I slump on the concrete bench outside the hotel. Cold, evening air sinks through my thin sweater. Goosebumps spread over my arms.

It's not okay. There's a convention in town—apparently, a valid excuse for the front-desk guy to be an ass—and every room is booked.

My phone is still dead. There are half a dozen hotels in walking distance. But first, I need to clear my head. I take out my camera and adjust the shutter speed to one more appropriate for the dark sky. My hands are shaky. This is going to come out blurry. I snap a few shots anyway. The aqua hotel pool hiding behind a black fence. The yellow glow of the streetlight falling over the sidewalk. The couple walking towards me—too far away for any details besides the way the woman is holding onto the man like he's a balloon string and she's afraid he'll fly away.

Wait a second.

That's Tom. And a woman who looks a lot like me. Must be Alice. She's a little shorter and a lot curvier. Lighter hair. More makeup. Much sexier outfit—tight dress and stilettos.

There's something about Tom's posture. Almost like he's not interested.

I zoom in to his face and snap a few shots. The evidence is clear. He has his arm around her but there's no enthusiasm in his expression.

The insight disappears when I set my camera down. The world makes more sense captured in a photograph. I see all the things I normally miss.

Tom's eyes connect with mine. He nods hello. I nod back and attempt to avert my gaze to anything else. My camera. Maybe there are some decent sexy pictures that will get me out of this desperate situation.

Nothing.

It took me a month to work up the courage to arrange a shoot with an exceptionally friendly model. How am I going to ask a stranger?

A high-pitched squeal interrupts my train of though.

"What the fuck, Tom? You're going to make me share with some girl who looks just like me?" The girl on Tom's arm glares at me with irritation.

"No. I'm over threesomes." Tom keeps his eyes on me as he addresses the woman. "Wait inside. Now."

She scoffs but obliges, pushing through the glass doors and throwing herself on the lobby couch. Her legs spread in a pose more desperate than enticing.

He looks at her with a hint of regret. "This is why I don't do repeats anymore. Too many feelings."

"Repeats?"

He laughs. "Don't think you're as innocent as your outfit suggests."

Is a sweater and jeans really innocent? This is how most people dress.

I stare back at still effortlessly cool Tom. It sinks in. Repeats. "You mean sleeping with the same woman more than once?"

He nods. "Not worth the trouble."

Wow. That's... slutty. I clear my throat and force myself to look Tom in the eyes.

Dammit, that same buzz of electricity passes through me. From one fingertip to another then right between my legs. It's not the gorgeous green color that gets me. It's the spark of mischief in them.

The lines of his tattoo peeking out from his v-neck.

God, he would look yummy in a photograph, pulling that v-neck halfway down his chest that I know you want me expression on his face.

"Eyes up here." He smirks. "Where you going with all your shit?"

"The hotel's booked."

"You can take my room. I'll sleep in the bus."

"No. You're..." I motion to the woman sitting in the lobby. "Busy."

His eyes drift to Alice then back to me. "I'm gonna let her down easy. I'm not in the mood anymore."

He's not? He seemed pretty ready to pounce when he thought I was Alice.

It's not as if she's lacking in any way. If anything, she's prettier than I am. She's certainly more endowed in the T&A regions.

"You eat dinner?" he asks.

My stomach growls. The last thing I ate was oatmeal and raisins and that was this morning. I shake my head, no.

"There's a strip mall down the block. A couple places are open all night."

"What about Alice?"

"She'll feel even more deprived if we get going and she doesn't get her lips around my cock."

There isn't a single hint of irony in his voice. He's so confident, so sure that women will be upset over not getting the chance to blow him.

It must be amazing to be that sure of yourself.

"Here." He slides my bag off my shoulders and around his.

"Okay."

He's already halfway to the door, too far away to hear me. I try not to gawk as Tom talks to the girl. Apparently, he hasn't mastered this whole letting her down easy thing, because she pouts and stomps, throwing one hell of a fit.

She glares at me on her way to the street. Tom follows a moment later. He stops next to me and shrugs, not at all aware of the effect he has on her.

* * *

Tom pulls the Thai restaurant's door open. "Best chicken and eggplant anywhere."

"I'm a vegetarian," I say.

He points to one half of the paper menu pasted to the door. "They have a vegetarian version."

He presses his hand against my lower back and leads me to a corner booth. There are all these clothes in the way, but, still my body hums with desire.

We're the youngest people here by twenty years. That doesn't spare Tom from female attention. A woman in a sharp suit, some Casino executive type, makes eyes at him.

"Give me a sec." Tom pushes out of his seat and approaches the woman.

One second she's all business, the next she's gushing, pawing at his hoodie. He leans in close, smiling and running his fingers over her wrist. Is the gesture sincere or a put on? I can't tell. Not without my camera.

He slides his arm around her so she can take a selfie then pulls a marker from his jeans and signs the back of her cell phone case.

He blows her a kiss goodbye as he makes his way back to me.

I cover my judgmental expression with the menu. "If you want to take her back to your room, I won't stop you."

"She was wearing a wedding ring." Tom presses my menu down and looks into my eyes. "I don't fuck taken women."

"It's none of my business."

"You were watching."

I bury my attention in the menu. The eggplant dish sounds good. Basil, soy sauce, red peppers, garlic. But I know I like pad thai. "I was just curious."

"About?" He shifts back in his seat, gives the menu a once over, and looks back to me. "I don't offend easily. You can lay all the judgment you want on me."

"I'm not in a position to judge anyone's love life."

"Love doesn't have shit to do with it."

"Or anyone's sex life."

The waitress interrupts to drop off waters and take our order. I stick with the pad thai. It's safe. Tom orders the spicy basil eggplant dish he recommended. The vegetarian version.

"You didn't have to do that," I say.

"I know. I don't do anything unless I want to do it."

His eyes bore into me, but I'm not sure what he's trying to find. Without the menu, there's nowhere to hide. I have to say something.

"Why did you reject that Alice girl?" I ask. "She was hot."

"You like girls?" He perks up. "Can I watch?"

"You want to?"

"Never seen two girls who were really into each other go at it before. Only women putting on some show for my amusement. If I wanted to see fake orgasms, I'd watch shitty porn."

"As opposed to?"

"Amateur stuff."

I clear my throat. Not going there. "I like guys."

"You embarrassed about that?"

"No. But... I can tell when a woman is attractive."

"Yeah. Alice is cute. We hooked up a long time ago. Supposed to be a one-time thing, but she knew I'd be in Reno and she called. Thought she wanted tickets or wanted to fuck me again."

"What about the piercing?"

"I don't mind giving without receiving." He laughs. "But the way she was talking... she was getting feelings. Expectations. Maybe they were real. Maybe she's full of shit and wants to nab a rock star boyfriend." Sadness flares in his eyes. "Doesn't matter. I don't do relationships."

"Why not?"

"Never felt that way." He studies my expression. "Come on. Lay the judgment on me. I know you're not screwing a different guy every night."

A chuckle escapes my lips.

He raises a brow. "Only once a week?"

I laugh harder. A big belly laugh.

"Okay, okay," he says. "I don't want to insult your game. Twice a week?"

My whole body goes light. All the tension of the day melts as I burst into giggles. No one teases me like this. I shake my head. "I don't have any game."

"Guys don't go crazy for that sweet and innocent thing?"

"I don't really date."

"Just pickup guys in bars and fuck them without learning their names." He shakes his head with mock outrage. "Willow, Willow, Willow. I expected better from you. They at least deserve breakfast in the morning."

"I'm not a monster. I make them coffee."

His interest perks. "Really?"

I hold a poker face for as long as I can (about fifteen seconds). Another laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head.

"Don't even make coffee. So greedy."

"Hey! I live around the corner from a Philz Coffee. I always offer them a few bucks to pick something up."

"So you make them feel cheap too?" He shakes his head. "What do you scream when you come if you don't know their names? 'Baby' or 'Oh God' or 'Fuck yeah'?"

"What do you scream out when you come?"

"Only one way to find out."

He can't be serious.

Tom laughs. "Kidding. You seem like a nice kid, and I know better than to get between Drew and someone he wants to protect. You and I... we're just friends."

Tom and I are going to be friends. I can do that. I nod. Just friends. No problem.

I'll only be around him a few days if I get the gig.

There's a buzz on the other side of the bench. That's a loud vibrate alert. Tom attends to something on his phone. I check the rest of the pictures on my camera for anything remotely appropriate for this assignment. There's nothing.

The waitress interrupts our silence with a promise our food is almost ready. Once she's gone, Tom slides his phone into his pocket and turns all his attention to me.

"How often do you get laid?" he asks.

"That is incredibly classified."

"Suit yourself."

Okay. Two can play this game. I tease back. "If you're such a proud manwhore, why did you get a piercing right before going on tour?"

"There's no time like the present. If you want something, why wait?"

"But you're permanently changing your body."

"I did my research. Read about the risks, found a piercer with experience. After that, there's no reason to waste time deciding. Do it or don't." He leans closer. "What did you think?"

Think? It's not possible to think in this state. That piercing, god that piercing. What would it feel like in my hands, my mouth, my—

"You do like it." He laughs. "My eyes are up here, kid."

"I know." I finish my water. How can I be this attracted to Tom? I haven't wanted anyone in years. He's hot, yes, but there have been other hot guys. I go on dates. Kiss even.

I never feel anything this intense. Hell, I never feel anything. Period.

The waitress drops off our food and refills our waters. She fawns over Tom, fetching him several kinds of hot sauce and brushing her hand against his wrist without asking permission.

When she's done flirting, he scoops his dish and a fair helping of rice onto a side plate and passes it to me. "Try it."

"You don't have to do that."

"I thought we covered this. I don't do things unless I want to do them."

"Okay. Thank you." I try a bite of eggplant. It's good. Tender. Spicy. After I swallow, I lick the oil off my lips.

He watches me with a cocky smile. He knows I like it but he doesn't brag about it.

I scoop a quarter of my noodles onto a side plate and offer them to him. "Fair is fair."

He nods. "I like a generous woman."

Oh, god, he's talking about sex again. I take a long sip of water in the hopes of cooling off.

It doesn't help.

We eat in silence. The food is good. Especially the eggplant dish. When I'm stuffed, I thank him for dinner and attempt to relax.

Tom finishes a few minutes later. He pushes the plates aside and leans closer. "You want to tell me why you're here?"

"At this restaurant—"

"In Reno. Drew didn't mention you coming, so I know it was last minute. And the way you've been acting. You're running from something."

I swallow hard. I can't tell Tom. He might relay the information to Drew. I shake my head. No. I'm not telling him.

"I can reword to make it a demand," he says.

"It's not any of your business."

He looks upset. But why? Tom barely knows me. He doesn't have any right to expect me to share my secrets.

An idea hits me. Perfect. It gets me out of answering without telling him to go fuck himself.

I look back at Tom. "I'll tell you. If you do something for me."

He sits up, intrigued. "I'm listening."

"I have an application for a photography job due at noon tomorrow and I don't have any pictures for it."

He shifts back to teasing, shaking his head in mock outrage. "Procrastinating on your homework. I expected better from you, Willow."

"Hey! You have any idea how hard it is to ask someone to get half naked so you can take sexy pictures of them?"

"It can be hard."

Oh. I clear my throat. "Are you familiar with boudoir?"

He nods.

"I need a model. I have ten photos due tomorrow. You wouldn't have to get naked. Just underwear."

"Sure. I'll do it."

What?

"Try not to look so surprised." He smiles, the picture of confidence. "You want to use my hotel room or you need some place sexier?"

My head is swimming. Tom is going to pose for me. I take a deep breath. "No. The hotel room is perfect."

For Tom.

Half-naked.

In front of my camera.