Page 57 of Hard Ruck

“Fuck off, Wells,” Atlas said on a laugh. “She’s here voluntarily. Because she has excellent taste.”

“If you say so. She looks smart enough to figure you out for herself.” To me, he added, “When you figure him out, get him to give you my number. I’ll show you a better time than he ever could.” No one would ever accuse Jasper of being humble, including him.

My face actually heated. It wasn’t every day I had a conversation with a rock star, much less have them flirt with me.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. As if I didn’t already have my hands full. Otherwise, I might consider adding him to my growing group of guys. If he’d go along with that.

“There’s no way in hell I’d give her your number,” Atlas said. “Chelsea is too good for a prick like you.”

“I think that’s up to Chelsea, don’t you?” Jasper asked. “Maybe I should give it to her myself.”

“Not if you need all of your fingers to play,” Atlas growled.

Jasper leaned down and spoke to me. “How adorable is that? He’s actually trying to threaten me.”

“I noticed that,” I said. I had to admit Jasper smelled good, a combination of leather from his jacket and soap. “I’m sure he’d never act on it.”

Daze wouldn’t be impressed if two of the guys who worked for her started trying to remove each other’s fingers. That was usually reserved for the enemy. Or anyone who stole from her or the people she worked for.

“Not unless he gives me good reason,” Atlas said. “Which he won’t, because Jasper is a dickhead, but he’s not going to muscle in on another guy’s date.”

“I would, but I have to go and warm up.” Jasper leaned in even further, close enough to whisper in my ear. “Think of me when you’re fucking him.” He gave me another wink before straightening up and heading up to the stage.

A ripple of surprise and excitement passed through the audience. They must not have realised he was talking to us until he left. Just as well, or security would be busy stopping him from getting mobbed.

I turned to Atlas and raised my eyebrows at him.

He frowned. “What?”

“You two are like brothers,” I said. “I bet you give each other hell, but you actually like each other.”

“He’s the brother I never had,” Atlas said easily. “When I called him and asked for tickets, he was happy to give us these. He’s a grumpy prick, but he’s a good guy deep down. Mostly. He would totally have taken you backstage and fucked you if you let him, even though you’re here with me.”

“I’m shocked a rock star would behave that way,” I said sarcastically.

Atlas snorted. “I know, right? He’s such a horndog. No doubt he’ll have a party with a few of the groupies after the concert. The whole band will.”

“What’s the point of being a rock star if you can’t have fun with your fans?” I asked. If I was a rock star, I’d fuck groupies left and right too.

“Good point,” Atlas said.

“I’m sure you’ve had your share of ruck bunnies,” I said.

“And then some,” he agreed. “After a while, it becomes a blur.”

I could relate to that. My clients at Flirts became a blur too after the first few weeks. Every now and again, one would stand out, like Storm, Frost and Dallas, but the rest had faded from my memory.

“What are you thinking about?” Atlas asked.

“Maybe I should tell you about it after the concert,” I said. I didn’t want to ruin a fun evening with the reality of my past.

He sat around to face me and lightly touched my forehead with his. “How about you tell me now. It looked important.”

“It— I suppose it kind of is,” I agreed.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” he insisted.

I opened my mouth and the words came out in a rush. “Until recently, I used to be an exotic dancer.”

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