Manaconda(48)

When I’d walked away from her, I’d gone looking for more. I’d found it in my music, in my friends, in my quiet house in the Hills away from the cesspool that was Los Angeles.

This fucking magazine thing had me smack in the middle of all of it again. I thought Kennedy was different, but she was worse. She steered the ship and showed people how to act, how to play, how to become the super famous.

I’d walked right into it again—blinded by a smile and my dick. I was a stupid son of a bitch.

Seeing her protect her client, to immediately side with her and walk away from me proved that well enough.

“So, does that mean the house is empty?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Then I can smoke your ass on Call of Duty.”

Noah was quiet for a moment, then a smile stretched across his face. “Dream on, brother. You seem to forget who died magnificently in our last game.”

“And I learned, and have been practicing.”

“Oh, is that the way?”

“Damn right.”

“All right. We’ll see. Just because you spent an hour in jail doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you, you know.”

“I’d think it would be the opposite.”

“Now you’re learning.”

I sure as fuck hoped so.





20





Kennedy





I swore and threw my liquid liner into my makeup bag. Again. This was only my fifth time trying to do my face. I was a freaking pro at liquid liner.

What the hell was my problem?

I dabbed at the corner of my eye with a Q-tip, giving up at the bright red eyes staring back at me. I hadn’t heard from Hunter in three days. There was full on radio silence from Indie, and Lila hadn’t returned my texts since yesterday.

Sales for Hammered’s album were holding steady. In fact they’d bumped higher after Hunter and Reed’s arrest Wednesday night.

Wyatt and Hunter had been in the Rolling Stone headlines again, this time for a guest appearance at a Foo Fighter’s show. Wyatt and Dave Grohl had a drum off, and Hunter had convinced Dave to bring his guitar throne back out for the show.

I’d watched the YouTube clips eleven times last night. Only five this morning.

Dex, their record executive¸ got his wish. Every time someone asked Hunter about who he was dating, he answered that he was single as single could be.

When anyone asked him about me, he gave a careless smile and gave a few different versions of an excuse I would have written.

“Nothing serious.”

“We had a fun night, but we both are working too much.”

Nothing that painted either of us as anything other than two busy professionals.

Perfectly adequate.

I didn’t remember throwing my blush Dior heel at the television, but Carter had informed me that it would cost me a hundred bucks to fix it.

Since they were my favorite pair, they were currently sitting in a cobbler’s shop. There were a surprising number of them in Los Angeles. Women loved their expensive shoes.

And now I had to go to a Love & Paws charity benefit without my lucky shoes, and hope I didn’t run into him.

I was the one charity that he supported without fail, but I still had his itinerary. He and the band should be at a showcase concert for Ripper Records.

If I went early enough, I should miss him.

“Here she is.”

I turned away from my vanity and smiled. “How’s my baby?”

Sammy, my Australian Border Collie rescue, put her paws on my lap. I scratched his ears pressing my forehead into his as he whined. He wagged his tail so hard he lost his balance and tumbled to the carpet.

“Did Uncle Carter and Aunt Felicity spoil you rotten?”

Carter dropped into one of my club chairs. “He led Felicity on a five mile chase through the state park.”

“I’m sure she loved that.”

“She’s still cursing me and Sammy.” Carter grinned. “New hiking boots.”

“Ouch.”

“Yep. Blister city. You owe her a pedicure.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Send her for a Spa package at Willow’s.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Man. I’ll walk Sammy more often if I’m getting pampered like that.”

I turned back to my vanity. “Make it a couple’s retreat. On me.”

“Okay, now I know you’re really in a state.”

I blew out a calming breath and made a perfect line with my liquid brush. “I’m fine.”

He stood behind me in the mirror. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Last night.”

He gave me a deadpan stare.

“I did.”

He didn’t need to know it was only two hours, but I had slept. I dabbed concealer under my eyes and finished off with a light powder. I gave Sammy a quick rub down and shrugged out of the button down I as wearing.