Would she buy it?

Fuck it.

He opened the door.

No one in sight.

The relief practically took his breath away but he saw it as a gift and made for the studio. Head down, barely watching where he was going, he stayed in his head, chasing the notes, stringing them together until he had the basic melody set in his head.

Entering the room, he picked up his guitar, opened the recording software on the laptop, and started to play.

*   *   *

Tru caught a quick glance of Sebastian out of the corner of her eye as he strode through the hall on his way to the studio.

Luckily, she hadn’t been in her office or there might’ve been an awkward couple of minutes when they both would’ve tried to talk around what had happened last night.

At least, that’s what she’d imagined would’ve happened.

Because she’d woken up this morning thinking it’d be best for everyone if they acknowledged the fact that last night had been a mistake and they never spoke of it again.

She’d decided her sister was out of her mind last night when she’d told Tru to sleep with him. Vi didn’t have a clue what was really going on here, so of course she wouldn’t know what to tell Tru. Therefore, Tru was going to stick her head in the sand.

And for her next trick, she was going to make the previous night disappear into the sands of time.

Trouble was, Greg was the magician. She was merely the pencil pusher.

One who wasn’t going to be able to avoid Sebastian forever.

With a sigh, she heard the studio door snap shut.

She should stop him now, get this painful discussion out of the way so they could return to their respective corners and go back to ignoring or fighting with each other.

Which worked so well before.

She couldn’t even avoid being snarky to herself.

Shit.

She reached the studio in seconds and had her hand on the door ready to open it when she realized that the red light above it was lit.

Which meant he was recording.

Curiosity bit her hard. She knew he’d been struggling to finish the last of the music for the film. But now he was recording.

She couldn’t help but wonder if that had something to do with what’d happened between them last night.

Think a little too much of yourself, don’t you?

Since when did her conscience sound like her sister?

She should’ve turned around and walked away, let him finish whatever he was doing in peace.

She turned the knob. If he was at the piano, he wouldn’t even know she was there. He’d be facing away from the window that separated the mixing booth from the actual studio space where he played his instruments.

If he was playing his guitar . . . Well, she’d take that chance because curiosity had grabbed her by the throat and was practically choking her.

Opening the door wide enough only for her to slip through, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the booth was empty and mostly dark. The only light came through the window from the studio. And it was so dim it took a second for her eyes to adjust.

Then she saw him at the piano. His fingers flew over the keys and the music he created drew her closer before she realized she’d stepped forward.

And damn, but the man could play.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, completely enraptured. She could listen to this all day. So melodic. So stunningly beautiful. So filled with emotion.

While her ears took in every note, her eyes ate him up.

Everything had changed last night, a seismic shift she still wasn’t sure how she was going to handle.

She thought she’d had a solution when she’d arrived this morning. That they’d talk it out and retreat to their comfortable corners, where they’d come out sniping at each other at every opportunity.

She understood that. She didn’t understand this attraction. It made absolutely no sense in her previously well-ordered life. He didn’t fit the vision of the man she wanted in her life.

Someone stable, someone who treated her like a queen and had an important job. A doctor, a lawyer. Another workaholic who appreciated the same traits in her.

Not a tattooed rock star whose idea of morning was sometime around noon.

Not even one who made her want to walk into the studio, straddle his lap, and sink her fingers into his hair before she kissed him until she couldn’t breathe. Just like last night.

Shit. Just . . . shit. She needed to get out of here before she did something really stupid.

The music stopped, breaking the spell and she froze, even to the point of holding her breath.

She should leave now. While he was occupied with his computer.

But her gaze got caught on the bare skin of his neck. On the tiny bit of ink she could see above the collar of his t-shirt, which clung to his back and made her want to strip it off to see what it hid from her view.

Oh my god. She had to suck in air before she made an idiot of herself.

He got up, startling her and making her scurry farther into the shadows until she had her back against the wall. He didn’t turn toward the window, though. Instead, he reached for his guitar, the electric she had yet to see him touch. The one that looked like it’d seen more than a few years of service.

When he sat back down on the piano bench, she could see his face but was pretty sure he hadn’t seen her. His eyes were shut tight as he played, and this time the music was harsher, angrier. Hypnotic.

The fingers that had caressed the piano keys now plucked at the strings with lightning speed. Her body remembered how he’d used those fingers on her body last night and she responded with a surge of heat and a rush of wetness between her thighs.

She wanted him to make her come again.

No. No, it wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t.

Not taking her eyes off him, she slid a couple of steps toward the door and grabbed the handle at her back.

Easing the door open, she slid through it. Her last glimpse of Sebastian showed he still had his eyes closed.

As the door closed, cutting her off from him, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

“Is he still alive or will I find a dead body in there?”

She screamed and spun around so fast, she almost lost her footing.

“Damn it, Greg! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

She reacted automatically, smacking at his broad chest with one hand, then shaking it out when all she did was crack her knuckles on solid muscle.

Crossing his arms over said chest, her boss lifted an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything else.

Scowling, she rubbed at her throbbing knuckles. “He’s fine. He’s working.”

“Glad to hear it. Now you wanna tell me what happened last night?”

God, she so hoped she didn’t blush bright red. Or, if she did, that he attributed it to having scared the crap out of her.

“He’s fine. He just got a little claustrophobic and needed some air.”

Where the hell was this need to protect him coming from? But she knew how much Sebastian looked up to Greg. He wouldn’t want to look bad in Greg’s eyes.

Greg’s expression didn’t change. “You’re telling me he’s fine but that he had a panic attack. I thought he was over those.”

Obviously, Sebastian had talked to Greg about this but she still felt disloyal saying anything on Sebastian’s behalf. “You should talk to him.”

Now Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d you two go last night when you left the restaurant?”

“For a walk. We ended up at a bar. At a concert.”

“And you were with him the whole time?”

She felt that blush creeping onto her cheeks. “No. I left before he did. He knew the band. I believe he stayed to talk to them.”

She actually had no idea what he’d done after she’d left, but she couldn’t say that to Greg.

Wait? Did Greg think Sebastian would fall into old, bad habits?