Surprisingly, my appearance had held up since leaving Savannah almost twelve hours earlier. Despite the beer and bourbon. Not that I really wore much makeup, but what I did have on seemed to be okay. I dabbed on some extra gloss and tousled my messy hair until it tumbled over my shoulders.

Fuelled by a heady mix of beer, bourbon and the afterglow of watching the band own the crowd, I left the bathroom to find Heath. I couldn’t help but smile as I worked my way through the throng of people still in the club, feeling some kind of crazy excitement about my breakfast date with Heath. Which was stupid because I didn’t even know him.

I spotted him near the back of the club and fought off another stupid smile when I saw him, until I realized he wasn’t alone. A young woman had wrapped herself around him, all tanned legs and heels. Long red hair swung down her back as she seemed to be swallowing his tongue.

I froze, suddenly confused.

Wait. Wasn’t he waiting for me?

And if so, why was he halfway down this other girl’s throat?

Oh crap. Obviously he hadn’t really meant it when he’d asked me to breakfast. I groaned inwardly and felt the prickly heat of embarrassment against my cheeks. Clearly it had been an offhanded invitation. One he had probably forgotten about as soon as it had left his amazing lips.

I mentally slapped my forehead. Oh God I am an idiot!

Before he could see me standing there like a drooling groupie, I disappeared back into the crowd. I found Piper and Jesse back at the bar and hurriedly bid them goodnight. What was I doing hanging around anyway? I didn’t belong here.

“Wait, aren’t you going to breakfast with Heath?” Jesse asked, drawing on his cigarette.

I thought about Heath at the other end of the club, busy sticking his tongue down the redhead’s throat and forced a smile, waving off the idea like it was no big deal. “I’m a bit tired. And I think he may be a bit busy. I’m just going to grab a cab from out the front.”

“I can drop you home,” Jesse offered.

“No, don’t be silly. I saw a cab rank out the front.” I pretended to yawn, desperate to cover my embarrassment over misunderstanding Heath’s invitation. He would be dining on the redhead before I even made it back to my apartment. “Thanks for a great night.”

I raced out of the dingy club before I ran into Heath and his friend. And before Jesse and Piper picked up on my embarrassment or the reason I was so desperate to get out of there. I ran down the narrow stairwell with the grimy walls and climbed straight into a cab.

Settling into the worn leather cab seat I rested my head on the back of the seat, suddenly feeling the effects of too much alcohol. My head swirled and I felt sick.

California lesson one: don’t get involved with the bad boy.

I sighed and nodded. I had just dodged a bullet.

I wouldn’t need reminding.

* * * * *

HEATH

It felt good. It had been another successful gig and proof that we were gaining more popularity.

Eighteen months ago no one even knew who Vengeance were. Now we were seeing more and more people at our shows and familiar faces at the different venues we played.

Okay, granted, some of the familiar faces we could do without. Like that chick in the black dress and boots who threw her beer at me. I had nailed her after a show a few weeks ago … Deanna? Diana? Donna?

If memory served she was only too happy to splay her legs open on the backseat of her Pinto. She had offered and I obliged. And somehow that made me the bad guy?

What had she thought? That we were dating after one blowjob and a frantic fuck in the back of her car? I never made promises I couldn’t keep. I never whispered sweet nothings. I never lied to get in their panties. It required a lot less effort than that; they offered and I obliged. Simple. Then I was the asshole for not calling them, or dating them.

Another familiar face I could do without was the one who had attached herself to my mouth. Kristen was an out-of-state model who always looked me up when she was in town for a photo shoot. She took it for granted that I would be at her beck and call whenever she rolled into the club.

Wildly beautiful with a knock out body, she had turned up tonight after club-hopping with her rich, elitist friends. She had swooped in, grabbed me on the cock and proceeded to shove her tongue down my throat.

But I wasn’t feeling it. My mind kept wandering back to Piper’s friend, the H-bomb with the amazing sea-green eyes. Even as Kristen worked her mouth against mine, all I could see behind my closed lids was the H-bomb’s perfect … everything. In fact, I was desperate to detach Kristen from my body so I could find her and take her to breakfast.

For some reason I was looking forward to spending a bit of quiet time with her and getting to know her. And hopefully peel back the prude layers of cashmere and pearls and find out what was really hiding beneath all those good girl clothes.

Strangely enough, I was happy to pass up mind-blowing sex with Kristen for a chaste date with a girl who was never, ever going to sleep with me. I didn’t know why. All I really knew was that when I had seen her from the stage she had grabbed my attention, and despite the efforts of a few other girls, she kept it.

Talking with her during the break in our set had only fuelled my interest in … what? I didn’t know. I just liked being around her. And if being just friends meant that I got to hang out with her, then just friends it would be.

“Hey, I don’t feel like I have all of your attention tonight, baby,” Kristen cooed, stopping her assault on my mouth long enough to pull back and look me in the eye. Her hand found my crotch and a lack of interest there. “And this? Normally you’d be a fucking ramrod by now.”

I took this as a chance to disentangle myself from her.

“It’s been a long night,” I said, undoing her hands from around my neck. “And I’m actually here with somebody.”

She leaned back, her eyebrow cocked as she scoffed, “You’re kidding me.” Her hands went to her hips. “You mean I left some pretty influential people to come and slum it with you and you’re telling me you’re here with a date?”

Slum it? What the fuck?

“Yeah, I guess that is what I’m telling you.”

She jutted out her hip to one side. “Yet, you just made out with me for the past five minutes?”

“It’s not that type of date,” I explained, although I had I feeling I desperately wanted it to be. “She’s just a friend.”

The words just a friend obviously eliminated the threat because Kristen stepped closer and tangled herself around me again.

“Tell her you’ve had a better offer,” she said, sliding her tongue up my neck, her hand wandering back to my crotch. “I could ring up a girlfriend and the three of us could have some real fun together,” she whispered in my ear.

Again, I unwound her from me. Even with her offer of a threesome, my chaste breakfast date with Harlow was more appealing.

“You’re serious?” she said, fixing me with a I can’t believe you’re turning me down glare. “I’ve driven all this way to slum it with you and you’re turning me away … for a friend?”

Again with the slum it … what the fuck was this chick’s problem?

Still, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Even if she was starting to behave like an arrogant brat.

“And I appreciate it,” I said, winking at her. “Want me to call you a cab?”

Her face darkened. Obviously she didn’t take disappointment very well. “You’re really turning me down? The hottest property in here?”

“I guess I am.”

She raised her chin, her eyes hard. “No Heath, I don’t want you to call me a cab. I don’t want you to call me period.” She snatched her purse off the table behind me.

I shrugged. “You do what you gotta do, babe.”