Since his answer to that included Greg’s girlfriend Sabrina and a kiss he’d had no intention of ever apologizing for, he kept his mouth shut. Greg’s raised eyebrows made Baz give him the finger.
“That’s what I thought.” Greg shook his head. “Look, I’m not gonna make you go, but I seriously think you should. You need to get out.”
“Is Sabrina going?”
Greg’s lips curved. “Yeah, she is. And she said if you actually show up and look like you’re having a decent time, she’ll reward you.”
Baz shook his head, knowing his idea of a reward and Sabrina’s were vastly different. She’d wanna bake him cookies. He’d want . . . something he couldn’t ever have.
Fuck.
He wanted to tell Greg no but knew he couldn’t. He owed the guy way too much. Plus, he’d used Sabrina’s presence to sweeten the pot.
Greg knew how much Baz cared for Sabrina. And Greg was secure enough in Sabrina’s love for him to not be threatened by that. Like, not at all.
“You suck, you know that?”
Greg smiled a shit-eating grin. “Yep. No jeans. They won’t let you in the restaurant.” He raised a hand when Baz started to swear. “Not my choice. The guy let his daughter pick where we’re going to eat.”
“I hate her already.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re such a badass.” Greg turned and headed for the door. “You never know, man. She may be the one. Or at least you might get laid. And don’t antagonize Tru or I will maim you.”
Sonofabitch.
The door closed behind Greg before Baz had a chance to throw something at the guy’s head.
Damn it. He was going to have to apologize to Tru before they got to the restaurant or the night would be a total clusterfuck.
“Shit.”
His fingers began to fly over the keys, the melody from Baseline Sins’ first album. The one that had started everything for them.
It was the first song he and Nik had written for the album. It wasn’t the first song they’d ever written. That one would never make it onto an album. But it was the song that had shot them to the top of the rock charts in a matter of weeks.
The song was good. Hell, it was one of their best, and rock and metal fans had embraced it. Then luck had kicked in, and a few DJs at some of the most influential stations around the country had begun to play it in heavy rotation.
And five nineteen – and twenty-year-olds from the Pennsylvania Coal Regions catapulted into a lifestyle they’d dreamed about since they were kids listening to Slipknot and Avenged Sevenfold and Anthrax in Baz’s basement.
And then Baz had cracked.
His fingers slammed down on the keys before he shoved away from the piano. Snapping the laptop closed, he grabbed his wallet and keys off the piano and headed for the door.
He almost made a clean escape. He was reaching for the front door when he heard Tru call to him.
“Sebastian. Wait.”
That voice felt like fingers running up his spine. And not in a bad way. Because there was one thing Trudeau was not. She was not ugly. And he’d noticed that a hell of a lot more lately. How not ugly she was.
Which didn’t make any fucking sense.
Stifling a sigh, he briefly considered ignoring her. But that would’ve been a dick move. And he didn’t want to be a total ass.
So he took a deep breath and turned. And tried to ignore the fact that his dick wanted to get hard.
He didn’t typically get wood for girls who looked like her. Tru was the all-American girl-next-door straight out of a casting call. If she’d been an actress, she could’ve given Kirsten Dunst or Amy Adams a run for their money.
Her hair was brown but the word didn’t mean a damn thing in reality. Each strand seemed to be a different shade of brown with a few red and blond highlights tossed in. And those wide blue eyes were stunners. Such a bright, clear blue. When she flashed them at people, Baz had seen men and women do a double take.
And then totally dismiss her because when she smiled, her looks put her firmly in the “Damn, she’s cute” category, with a pug nose and those freckles that made her look half her age, which, contrary to her stick-in-the-mud-attitude, was only twenty-six.
Of course, when she smiled, his dick got hard.
Luckily, she didn’t smile at him. Ever.
Which pretty much sucked.
“Hey. What’s up?’
He figured he probably shouldn’t bring up their fight from this morning. Wouldn’t do any good. He should apologize for yanking her chain, but then, she’d done the same.
So around and around they went.
Now, he stuck with short and sweet. And refused to let his gaze drop below her chin. She hid it well but the girl was built for sex.
And yeah, you probably really don’t want to think about that.
“I understand you’re going to dinner with us tonight.”
He bit back the automatic smart-ass reply of “Don’t worry. I won’t do a line of coke before and act like the junkie you think I am.” Instead he said, “Yeah.”
She nodded, her expression remaining completely neutral. He had to wonder how hard she was biting her tongue.
And how much he wanted to suck on it.
“Then I’d like to declare a truce.”
A truce, huh? “Sure. I can do a truce. But we’re not at war, Truly.”
Her lips pursed, but she didn’t ream him for calling her Truly. “Good to know.”
And now he couldn’t seem to stop looking at her lips. She had a mouth made for kissing. Yeah, he’d noticed it before, but for some reason, right now, he wanted to grab her shoulders, yank her against him, and kiss the hell out of her.
You totally need to get laid.
“I’m glad to hear you say that.” Her lips curved but in no way did he consider it a smile. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”
He felt compelled to add, “I won’t let Greg down.”
Now her smile turned genuine. And it felt like a punch in the gut.
Christ, what the fuck? Had he totally lost his mind? This was Tru. She’d cut off his balls before she’d ever let him kiss her. And she’d be totally in the right.
But right now, smiling at him like she was, just made him want her more.
“He has that effect on people, doesn’t he?”
Baz didn’t know about anyone else. He only knew that Greg was one of the few people he trusted to have his back. That it’d happened in such a short amount of time was the amazing part.
“Yeah. He does.”
Silence fell then. They continued to stare at each other for several long seconds until finally she shook her head as if coming out of a trance.
Join the club, babe.
“Okay.” She took a step back, and Baz had to make a conscious effort not to reach for her. To grab her hand and pull her forward. She’d probably slap the hell out of him. “So I’ll see you tonight.”
“Sure. Tonight.”
With a nod, she turned on her heel and headed back down the hall. Baz couldn’t take his eyes off her ass until she disappeared into her office.
Fuck.
Chapter Two
Tru took one more look in the mirror before deciding this was as good as it was going to get.
Tomorrow she’d make an appointment to get her hair cut. And a facial. The stress was starting to show in the dark circles under her eyes. And maybe she should eat a little more, if the sharpness of her hipbones was any indication.
Some women ate when they were stressed. She just . . . didn’t.
And it was starting to show.
Her dress hid a lot of flaws, with its empire waist, bright pattern, and handkerchief sleeves. It was one of her favorites, a designer original she’d allowed Greg to buy her for Christmas one year. She’d needed a dress for her first business party as Greg’s assistant, and she’d had no idea where to shop for something suitable. Greg must have seen the terror in her eyes and had packed her into a taxi, given an address to the driver, and told her someone would be waiting for her and to get whatever the hell she wanted.