Page 77 of No Interest in Love

Few hours later, just outside of the hotel, I realize that maybe my head doesn’t need clearing. I already know what I’m gonna choose. It’s not knowing how she’ll react that has me second-guessing.

But I head straight for the elevator anyway and slam the top-floor button.

11:26P.M.

Carletta’s suite takes up nearly the entire top floor of the hotel. Assistants and behind-the-scenes staff are still chatting and moving around the main hallway, a few of them giving me knowing looks as I rap my knuckles against Carletta’s door.

She opens it slowly, and I was going to lead in with chitchat. I had it all prepared too. There was about an eighteen-minute dialogue just about her flat-faced cat, which is currently perched by her right leg.

But all that rehearsing means nothing, because the second I see her I blurt out, “I’m not gonna sleep with you.”

Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifts, along with her very full lips. She ignores the looks we’re both getting from the bustle in the hallway and steps back to let me in.

“Do you want a drink?” she asks as soon as the door shuts behind me. Her bare feet pad across the furry rug to the bar. Her shorts barely cover her ass, and the tank top she’s in isn’t doing much to hold in her breasts. I can’t help but compare her to Shay in my baggy clothing, showing none of her curves but still making me go out of my skull.

“Uh…” I mutter, scratching at my ear. “Did you hear me?”

She laughs, shaking her head at the very large wineglass she’s filling. “I’m fine with relaxing tonight. I can’t imagine performing after going through a week like you just did.”

She lifts the wine bottle at me, and I pass on it.

“No, Carletta…I mean I’m not going to sleep with you…ever.”

She laughs until she catches my drop-dead-serious expression. It gets so pin-droppingly quiet that even Carletta’s cat gets sick of it and starts mewling at us both. Carletta picks up her glass and slumps onto an overly cushioned couch. Her brows have pinched together and she gnaws on her bottom lip. I don’t know whether I should stay standing, sit down, walk out, or what.

“You’re married?” she asks. I slowly take a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

“No.”

“Gay?”

“No.”

“Engaged? Taken?”

“No.”

She slams her hand into the large throw pillow. “Then what the hell, Jason?”

I can’t tell if she looks more amused or annoyed. The light smile on her face tells me the former, but the tone of her voice has me thinking the latter. I let out a giant sigh and grab the back of my head, shaking it at the floor.

“That woman…the one I’ve been stuck with all week. The one who drives me crazy. She’s…” I stop and run a hand over my face.

“Driving you crazy,” Carletta finishes for me.

“I’ve lost my damn mind.” I meet her gaze. “But I like it. And I don’t want to risk losing a shot at it.”

She takes a drink, rolling her eyes a bit.

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“I thought you were a guy who was into this sort of arrangement. I get a good lead out of the deal, and you get a good lay. Win-win.” She puts her glass down and scoots forward on the couch, letting her bare knee touch my leg. “Are you going to let this woman who’s not even your girlfriend stand in the way of you getting the job?”

My brow furrows. “You saying if I don’t sleep with you, the part goes to someone who will?”

“I’m not saying those exact words.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “That would be very illegal.” She playfully bites her bottom lip and inches closer again. I back the hell up.

“Sorry,” I say, moving toward the door. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

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