Mal Ericson, drummer for the world famous rock band Stage Dive, needs to clean up his image fast—at least for a little while. Having a good girl on his arm should do the job just fine. Mal doesn’t plan on this temporary fix becoming permanent, but he didn’t count on finding the one right girl. Anne Rollins never thought she’d ever meet the rock god who plastered her teenage bedroom walls—especially not under these circumstances. Anne has money problems. Big ones. But being paid to play the pretend girlfriend to a wild life-of-the-party drummer couldn’t end well. No matter how hot he is. Or could it?
Our fingers grazed in the way that’s pretty much inevitable during such a hand over. No way could he have failed to miss the trembling in mine. Thankfully, he didn’t comment. I scurried back to my place by the edge, leaning casually with a beer in hand. Cool people leaned. They looked relaxed.
He chuckled softly, letting me know I wasn’t fooling anybody. Then he sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His face came fully into the light and I was caught, captivated. My mind blanked. No question about it. It really was most definitely without a doubt him.
Mal kept a tight hold on my hand, his big, warm fingers encasing mine. I took my cues from him, staying close to his side. Whenever some sexy siren tried to approach him he basically shoved me at them with a “Meet my girlfriend, Anne.” I’d almost tripped the first few times he’d used me as a human shield, but I was getting the hang of it now. With the last one I’d just held up a hand and said “He’s with me.” She’d taken it with relatively good grace.
“I thought that one was going to hit me,” I said, watching the disappointed girl stalk off into the crowd. “Being your girlfriend is dangerous.”
“What can I say? I’m a magnificent specimen of manhood. Of course they all want me. But I do appreciate you protecting my honor.”
“I should hope so.” I smiled.
“You’re the peacekeeper. But you were ready to rip into Ben the other night.”
“About you. You’re turning out to be kind of a mind fuck for me, pumpkin.”
“Not saying you mean to be.”