by M. A. Foster
Way to make a guy look desperate, Jay. I pinch the little shit on her side.
“I was wondering who this hottie was.” Nikki’s hungry eyes rake over me from head to toe. Like what you see? “You’re always surrounded by gorgeous men, Jayla. I’m so jelly.”
Do chicks still say that?
I swing my gaze to Jay and, judging by the look on her face, I’d say no. Her only response is to blink once… twice… and then she just walks around to the other side of the table and pulls out a chair beside the CFO of King Records. What the fuck?
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. That might’ve been the funniest shit I’ve ever seen.
“Cole, I’m going to get something to drink at the bar. Do you want to come with?” Nikki hooks her arm around mine and I look down to catch an eyeful of cleavage.
What was the question?
We only make it as far as the lounge area before Nikki pulls me toward the private bathroom. The door is barely shut before she has her tongue down my throat. I’m not complaining. Nikki Fox has been the star of my fantasies for the past year. With her blue hair and curvy body, she reminds me of a cartoon pinup girl.
My hands are everywhere, wanting to touch every inch of her body. Right now, I wish I had more than two. Wrapping a leg around my waist, Nikki rocks her hips, grinding herself against my rock-hard dick pressing against my tuxedo pants. She wants a ride on the “Cole train,” and God, I’d love to give her one, but sexy superstar or not, it’s not gonna happen.
Doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun with her, though. I mean, how often does a guy end up locked in a bathroom with the star of his fantasies? I’m gonna go with never.
Sliding my hand up her thigh, I push her panties to the side and use my fingers until she’s moaning, sagging against me, and panting against my lips.
“How old are you?” she asks as she shoves her eager hand down the front of my boxer briefs and wraps it around my dick.
“I’ll be eighteen next month,” I grunt as she tightens her grip and begins moving her hand up and down.
“Close enough.” She drops to her knees and…
Mind.
Blown.
I’M UNABLE TO wipe the wicked smile from my face as I make my way back to my table, brushing a hand over my slightly wrinkled shirt. Jay’s expression is a mixture of disapproval and disgust. Since when did she become so judge-y?
“What?” I smirk, still feeling a little doped up on euphoria.
It’s not like I’ve never had a blowjob before. I’ve had plenty. But this was different. I’m pretty sure I saw stars. I might’ve even blacked out for half a second.
It was hot.
Nikki was hot.
And freaky.
And dirty.
And fuck, I loved it.
“You’re unbelievable.” Jay shakes her head. “Do you ever keep it in your pants?”
“Sure I do.” I pull out the empty chair beside Jay where she sits perched on Bass’s lap.
“Mom and Dad would be so proud,” Dylan says with thick sarcasm.
“Shut up,” I snap. Like he has any room to talk. Dylan’s fucked half the female population in Heritage Bay.
Dylan and I used to be close before Willow happened. I was the shit back then, hanging out at college parties with my big brother. Until I committed the ultimate party foul and he nearly got his ass kicked by our dad. Dad’s never laid a hand on us before, but if Bass hadn’t been there to intervene, he probably would’ve laid Dylan out.
It’s been almost two years, but clearly Dylan still carries a lot of resentment toward me. I get that he’s disappointed, but it’s not his life that’s changed. Most of the time, he acts like he can’t stand to be in the same room as me, and I’m not gonna lie, it sucks.
I miss the close relationship I had with my big brother.
“You’re lucky this is a private affair, Cole, or your face would be all over the Internet. My Little Pony is a superstar, and the cameras love her,” Eva tells me.
“Who?”
Evangeline rolls her eyes. “Nikki Fox.”
I bark out a laugh. “Did you just call her My Little Pony?”
I prefer unicorn, because that mouth of hers was magical.
“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Jay says, looking over her shoulder before pointing to Evangeline. “Weenie, knock it off. Your dad will be pissed if he hears you talking shit about her.”
Evangeline’s dad, Chandler Skye, is the CFO of King Records. She just shrugs as if she couldn’t care less.
“I’m not talking shit about her. That sexy little blue-haired freak knows how to work a microphone.” I wiggle my eyebrows before I bust out laughing and everyone at the table does, too.
Except Dylan. Shocker.
“Nice one.” Evangeline holds up her hand for a high five.
“You’re both crazy,” Jay says, shaking her head.
I look over at Dylan. “Don’t worry, Dad,” I drawl. “I was careful. It was a one-night, one-time special performance.”
“Enough, you two,” Jay chastises as she stands and extends her hand to Lucas. “Lucas, come with me for a minute.”
“Why?” he snaps like he’s annoyed with her. And I’ll admit that’s a first. Lucas is one of many males in Jay’s life who worships the ground she walks on.
Lucas Wild is the son of Royal Mayhem’s drummer, Andrew “Drew” Wild. Recently, Lucas has made a name for himself and his new band, LAW. Emerson practically raised him, so naturally Jay and Lucas have a strong sibling-like bond.
“Because I’m asking you to,” she says in a playful tone, wiggling her fingers in front of him. When he continues to ignore her, the playful tone is replaced with a warning. “Stop being a jerk face, Lucas, and come with me.”
He pushes away from the table forcefully, ignoring Jay’s outstretched hand, and stalks off. Jay follows him.
“What’s going on with them?” I ask, looking around the table. Everyone shrugs and seems to be as clueless as me. Even Bass.
“Let’s go take a walk, Cole,” Dylan says firmly, jerking his head to the side.
Rolling my eyes, I stand from my seat and follow my brother away from the curious faces at the table.
“What’s your problem, Dylan?” I ask in a bored tone.
He spins around and gets in my face. “You’re my problem, Cole,” he growls. It’s low, but there’s enough anger there to get his point across. “You’re a selfish prick.”
What?
Taking a step back, I shove my hands in my pockets. “Okay, Mr. Perfect. Why am I a selfish prick?”
Dylan huffs out a humorless laugh. “Let’s start with your most recent act of selfishness. This is a black-tie event”—he gestures to the ballroom full of people flitting around in tuxedos and ball gowns—“and you’re off acting like getting your dick sucked like you’re at one of your high school parties.”
“Or one of your frat parties,” I add sarcastically.
Dylan’s nostrils flare as he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, trying to rein in his temper. If he could see how much he looks like our dad right now….
“What’s really the problem?”
“You’re being reckless, chasing ass like a horny teenager.”
“I am a horny teenager,” I reply incredulously.
“You’re also a dad,” he reminds me, poking me in the chest. “Stop acting like a playboy and get your shit together.”
It’s my turn to be pissed. I lean forward so our faces are just inches apart. “Fuck off, Dylan.” I return a poke to his chest. “I’ve been busting my ass, and Willow always comes first. Just because I like to act my age and have a little fun once in a while doesn’t make me selfish. It makes me human.” And that said, I’m done. Fuck him.
I make my way back to the table just in time to see Jay approaching wearing a cat-ate-the-canary grin. “What?” I ask.
A disbelieving laugh escapes her lips. “I just caught your
little blue-haired freak performing an encore.”
“HARPER, YOUR PHONE is vibrating,” Mia calls out from the kitchen where she’s making us breakfast.
I lift Whiskers, Mia’s cat, off my stomach before rolling off the couch and dragging my feet over to the counter to grab my phone. It’s a local number but it’s not registered in my contacts. I don’t know anyone who would be calling me, but I guess I’ll find out.
Swiping the screen, I bring my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello, may I speak to Harper Murphy?”
“This is she,” I say, and Mia glances at me curiously over her shoulder.
“Hey, this is Alex. I’m one of the managers here at Mac’s. You filled out an application for a server position. We currently have an opening, and I was wondering if you were still interested?”
His timing couldn’t be more perfect.
“Yes,” I breathe. Oh my God.
“Great. Sundays are pretty busy because of the brunch rush. Would you be able to come in this afternoon for an interview, say around two?”
“Sure. I don’t have anything going on today.” Because I don’t have a life.
“Perfect. When you come in, just tell the hostess you’re here to see Alex. So, I’ll see you at two?”
“Yep. See you at two. Thank you.”
“Thank you, Harper,” he says before he hangs up.
“Who was that?” Mia asks as I set down my phone.
“That was Alex, the manager from Mac’s. I filled out an application last summer and they finally have an opening. I have an interview today at two.”
Mia’s quirks a brow. “Really?” She nods her approval. “There are some hot guys at Mac’s. I wonder which one of them is Alex.”
I snort a laugh and she smiles.
“What about your babysitting job? You make pretty good money working for the Butlers.”
There is no babysitting job, and the Butlers don’t exist. I made it all up when I took the job at JC’s. Mia would flip if she knew I’d been working there and probably burn the place down.
“The Butlers are going on vacation next week, for the rest of the summer,” I lie.
If I get hired at Mac’s, then I’ll quit my job at JC’s. I hate working at the club, but the money’s good and it’s more time I get to spend with Josh, even if I’m working.
He and I have been together for seven months now, but unless we see each other at work or we’re hanging out at his loft on the weekends, we hardly see each other at all. Josh has another club in South Florida, so he travels back and forth a lot during the week.
Back in February, he gave me a key to his loft apartment and asked me to move in. I panicked. I wasn’t even close to being ready. I told him I had a roommate and couldn’t leave her hanging, but when our lease was up at the end of summer, I’d move in officially.
Like in September, when I turn eighteen.
But now that school is out for the summer, I’ve been spending more time there than at Mia’s and gradually moving more of my things over.
Mia knows I’m dating a guy named Josh, but she respects my privacy and doesn’t ask many questions.
If she only knew it has nothing to do with privacy and more to do with me being a liar.
“HI,” I GREET the bubbly blonde with a friendly smile as I approach the hostess stand. “I’m Harper Murphy. I have an interview with Alex.”
She nods and picks up the phone. “Thank God,” she says with wink, then adds, “I could really use the help.” She turns her attention to the phone. “Alex, Harper is here for her interview. Okay, I’ll let her know.” She hangs up. “He’ll be right out.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you go to Heritage High?” she asks. “You look familiar.”
I shake my head. “No. I go to Heritage Academy.”
Her face lights up. “Really? Do you know Cole Mackenzie?”
“I know of him, but no, I don’t know him.”
She looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads, but before she can say anything else a male voice calls my name.
“Harper?” I turn to see a tall, gorgeous guy with overgrown, dark wavy hair walking toward me. There’s a day’s worth of scruff covering his jaw, and his eyes are the color of the island seas.
He’s wearing a dark blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black jeans with a rip in the knee, and worn combat boots. The top two buttons of his collared shirt are undone and open, revealing two braided black leather necklaces hanging loosely around his neck. One holds a guitar pick and the other a pair of angel wings. His wrists are layered with a mixture of leather and beaded bracelets, giving him the whole rock star look. Damn.
“Hey, I’m Alex. Thanks for coming in.” He extends his hand to me.
I nod, waiting for my mouth to catch up with my brain. “Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand. “I’m Harper.” Duh.
An amused smile curls up one side of his mouth. “Let’s talk in my office.” He looks over at the hostess, whose name I didn’t catch. “Amelia, will you tell Dylan to come to my office when he gets in?”
“Sure.” Amelia, the hostess, smiles and then turns to me. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Alex leads me back through the dark wood double doors from where he came. “Have you ever been here before?” he asks.
I nod. “Just once when I filled out my application.”
His brows pull together as if he’s never heard such a thing.
I shrug.
Alex gestures to the room. “This is the bar area. We have live music Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Those are our busiest nights.”
The massive room is two stories with a sweeping staircase that leads to a second floor. Tilting my head back, I notice the second floor is set up as a game room with pool tables, dart boards, video games, and high-top tables arranged along the railing and overlooking the first floor.
A bar runs along the wall, and a stage is set up at the far end of the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch along the opposite wall, overlooking the bay.
“You can work the bar area, but you can’t work behind the bar until you’re twenty-one. And you have to be eighteen to deliver the drinks,” he says over his shoulder as he leads me to his office.
“I’ll be eighteen in September.” Less than two months.
“Have a seat.” He gestures to the two leather seats arranged in front of his desk as he makes his way to his own chair. He picks up a sheet of paper, which I assume is my application, and scans it quickly before he asks, “I just realized this application is over a year old.” He chuckles, shaking his head, while I silently thank the universe for the oversight. “We don’t usually keep them longer than three months. Do you have any experience?” Yes. “No,” I lie, “but I’m a quick learner.”
“You go to Heritage Academy?”
“Yes. I’ll be a senior.”
“I assume you know Cole, then?” His tone is slightly accusatory.
“Everyone in school knows who Cole Mackenzie is.” I shrug, feigning indifference. “I don’t know him personally.”
Alex gives me a look as if to say ‘come on,’ and my stomach flips. This interview is going south already and we’re only on question number three.
He must see the discouraged expression on my face. “Sorry.” He exhales a humorless laugh. “Dylan’s been on a warpath lately. He’s—”
“Dylan?”
“Dylan Mackenzie. He’s the other manager,” he clarifies.
I hadn’t thought of that.
This could be a problem.
According to Jade’s journal, she and Dylan knew each other.
“The last few girls we interviewed were ‘Cole groupies.’” He makes air quotes, then gestures wildly toward the door. “You’ve met Amelia.”
“Oh.” I laugh, softly. “Well, I’m definitely not a ‘Cole groupie,’” I explain, mimicking his actions by making air quotes. “I don’t think my boyfriend w
ould like it. I really just need a job.”
“Knock knock,” a male voice says as he taps on the door and pushes it open. Jesus, is there anyone in this place who isn’t good-looking? Mia was right, there are some hot guys at Mac’s. “Amelia said you wanted to see me.”
Dylan Mackenzie looks like an older version of Cole: black hair, smooth tan skin, and bright green eyes. His black T-shirt fits snug over his muscular chest and arms, and his dark jeans sit low on his waist. It doesn’t escape my notice that Dylan is sporting the rock star look as well, with a mixture of beaded and leather bracelets stacked on his wrist and a single necklace around his neck, a guitar pick and angel wings. Must be a music thing.
“Dylan, this is Harper.” Alex gestures to me and holds out my application to Dylan. “She’s here to interview for the server position.”
Dylan smirks and reaches for my application.
“Are you eighteen?” he asks, scanning my face and down my seated body.
“I’ll be eighteen in September,” I answer, shifting uncomfortably in the leather chair.
“Hmm.” His eyes shift to Alex, then back to me. “Do you have any experience as a server?” He looks down at my application.
“Not really, but I’m a fast learner. If you give me a week, I’ll prove it.”
Dylan stares at me for a beat before he nods, lowering his head again. “One last question,” he states, seemingly fixated on my application. “Are you here because of my brother?”
My jaw drops open. “Seriously?” My gaze flicks back and forth between them. “Like I just told Alex, I know Cole from school just like everyone else. We had some classes together sophomore year, but we’re not friends.”
“She’s good, man,” Alex confirms.
“What if he hits on you?” Dylan asks, raising a brow. “Because he will.”
I snort. “I have a boyfriend, but even if I didn’t, I’m not interested in the school playboy.”
Alex barks out a laugh. “Guess she knows him well enough.”
Chuckling, Dylan tosses my application on Alex’s desk before extending his hand to me. “You’re hired. Welcome to Mac’s.”