He hesitated and then laughed as if he thought she was joking. “They’re great, aren’t they? Are you from Tulsa?”

She shook her head. “Kansas. Nikki wanted to meet Shade so badly that she made me drive here with her. She couldn’t get backstage last night. I guess she got what she wanted tonight though. Where are you from?”

“Austin.”

She did recognize a hint of a drawl in his speech, but she wouldn’t have pegged him as a Texan—his jeans weren’t tight enough to cut off the circulation to his balls. She supposed the Rangers ball cap should have given her a clue. “Did you drive all the way from Austin just to see Sole Regret?”

He laughed again and tugged on one earlobe. He was certainly easy to amuse. And the deep, rich sound of his amusement had her considering clown school to keep him laughing regularly.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said.

Gabe took the final draw of his beer, extended the empty bottle, and gave it a little shake. Within twenty seconds it had been replaced with a fresh brew.

Sipping her water, she wondered why the bartender was so eager to do Gabe’s bidding. “So, do you know the band?”

He smiled again and Melanie feared she’d melt. She was very interested in putting a permanent smile on his handsome face.

“We’ve met. What do you do with your time when you aren’t enabling your friend?”

“I’m an accountant.”

“That must be . . . ” His eyebrows drew together. “Boring as shit.”

She laughed. “It pays the bills. Besides, I like numbers. They’re predictable.”

“I suppose you don’t have an unpredictable bone in your body.”

She reached up and ran a finger down the side of his neck. His pulse leapt against her fingertip. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Are you coming on to me, Melanie?”

Oh yes, yes, yes. “Maybe,” she said. No sense in Nikki having all the fun tonight. Melanie was suddenly up for a little fun of her own.

“I hate to bother you,” someone said from the other side of Gabe.

A stud piercing spanned the bridge of the guy’s nose and a palm-sized black skull tattoo covered the side of his spindly neck. At the sight of the tattoo, Melanie’s heart rate kicked up. Most tattoos made her feel uneasy, but skull and barbed-wire designs always freaked her out. Melanie took a huge gulp of water and returned her gaze to Gabe, wondering how he’d deal with a confrontation.

“I’m a huge fan of yours, Force,” the fashion-nightmare gushed. “You’re hands down the best drummer on the planet. Can I have your autograph?”

Perhaps Nikki hadn’t thrown up all over Sole Regret’s lead vocalist, but Melanie managed to spit water all over their drummer.

Melanie jumped to her feet and searched for something to wipe the water from the side of Gabe’s face. Chuckling, he lifted the hem of his T-shirt and rubbed the droplets from his skin. She couldn’t help but gape at his washboard abs. It was bad enough that she’d spewed water all over a famous drummer; spitting all over a hot famous drummer with dreamy green eyes and a gorgeous smile was a tabloid-worthy disaster. Her gaze fixed on the hint of a tattoo peeking out above his wide, leather belt near one hipbone. She couldn’t make out what it was before he dropped his shirt to cover his belly. She expected that feeling of unease to settle over her now that she knew he had a tattoo, but she only felt undeniable attraction when she looked at him.

Gabe took the CD from his excited fan and signed it before turning his attention back to Melanie.

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea who you were. ”And how much of an ass I was making of myself as I criticized your band.

His eyes flipped skyward. “Yeah, I kinda figured that much.”

“I recognized the other guys in the band because I saw them on stage, but you . . . ”

“Were the blur behind the huge drum kit.”

“Yeah.” And he looked like a regular gorgeous guy, not a rock star. She touched her cheeks with her fingertips and found them hot. “I really am sorry I spit water on you. You must think I’m a psycho.”

“Actually, I think you’re charming,” he said. “I’ve never met a woman with the balls to turn Shade down and call him a freak in the same breath.”

Melanie groaned. “I can’t believe I did that.” She plopped down on the sofa beside Gabe again and buried her head in her hands. “I don’t really think he’s a freak. He’s just so . . . ”

“Arrogant?”

“Yeah.” She turned her head to look at him. “But you don’t seem to be.”

“I’m just the drummer.” He touched the center of her back, engulfing her in his body heat and the clean fragrance of soap and hot-blooded male as he moved closer. “Do you have a boyfriend?” He stroked her left ring finger just above her first knuckle. “I know if you had a husband or a fiancé, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight without a ring on your finger.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he hitting on her? She was pretty sure he was. Did she mind? Hell no. Even though he was a musician and had a tattoo, she loved what she saw. And she wanted to do so much more than look.

“I’m currently single,” she said. Yay! she added silently.

“I thought maybe that’s why you rejected Shade, that you were madly in love with some lucky jackass. You honestly aren’t attracted to him?”

She shook her head.

“Not even to his notoriety?”

“It doesn’t make him any more special than any of us. So he’s famous. Big whoop. It doesn’t give him the right to behave like an ass. You’re famous and you don’t act like that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She nodded resolutely.

Gabe leaned closer still, his gaze so intense she felt frozen to the spot. He lifted a hand to brush his fingers across her cheek. Melanie’s heart thundered in her chest.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

She couldn’t drag her gaze from his. She’d never seen such green eyes. The contrast of those bright irises against his dark lashes was mesmerizing.

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not attracted to guys like you.”

“Guys like me?”

“Guys with tattoos.”

“Hmm,” he murmured close to her ear.

Her eyelids drifted closed.

“What about guys with mohawks?”

She gasped and her eyes flew open. “Never.”

Gabe pushed his ball cap off, revealing that the sides of his head were not only clean-shaven, but tattooed with black and red tribal patterns. The strip of hair down the center of his head was a couple inches long and jet black with crimson tips. So not her type. Then why was her belly tightening with need and why were her panties uncomfortably damp?

“And I suppose you’d never be attracted to a guy with a body piercing.”

His warm breath caressed her ear. She stifled a groan. Why was everything about him turning her on? She really wasn’t attracted to these bad-boy types. She was likely to cringe in fear when confronted by someone who looked like him. Now, even though Gabe had her cornered against the arm of the sofa, she felt no fear at all. She wanted to touch him. Stroke his mohawk, rub his scalp, caress his tattoos with her lips. How had those desires been spawned? She should be flinching away from him, not swaying toward him. He was exactly the type of guy she avoided as a rule. Yet she wasn’t the least bit afraid of Gabe. She wanted him.

“My navel’s pierced,” she blurted. One moment of recklessness on her twenty-first birthday.

“I don’t believe you.”

She lifted the hem of her top to show him the jewelry dangling from her belly button. His breath caught, and his fingers traced the slender chain around her waist. A pulse of pleasure converged between her thighs, and she clenched her legs together to ease the building ache.

“God, that’s sexy.” His pinky dipped beneath the waistband of her jeans as he traced the gold chain again. “What other secrets are you hiding, sweet Melanie? I want to discover them all.”