Page 27 of Hard Rock Fling
"But why me? There are hundreds of people who would kill for a job like this."
"Not everyone can do what you do."
"I didn't do anything special. I came up with that idea on a coffee break."
"And maybe that's why August hired you. If that's the kind of stuff you come up with on a whim, what kind of stuff can you do when you've got a whole team behind you?"
"No pressure, though, right?" I muttered.
"You kidding?" Cameron shook his head. "Tonsof pressure. This album is August's baby. You better not fuck it up." He laughed at the terror on my face. "Don't worry. We'll all be there to help you. Damian especially."
Cameron nudged my shoulder. Damon appeared with two plastic cups in his hands.
"Here you go, sweetness."
Damon wore the same jeans and t-shirt as his brother, his hair equally messy-but-hot. His black-tipped nails weren't chipped, but that was the only difference. From this distance, his eyes were strikingly green, no hint of the dark blue I'd seen close up.
"Thanks." I took the cup, wondering where Ian was.
Damon got up close, putting an arm around my waist. I pushed at him and took a few steps closer to Cameron. As if he could protect me. That was as likely as a wolf protecting a flock of sheep.
"Still playing hard to get?" Damon narrowed his eyes at me with a teasing smirk.
He was no doubt trying to make me think he was his brother. Did Damon not know Ian and I had already kissed? I hadn't been playing hard to get at all. Maybe they didn't share everything. Maybe Damon was trying to get into my pants before his brother did.
I took my first sip of the drink to hide my unease when Cameron spoke.
"Your girl and I were having a nice discussion about fucking."
I inhaled my drink down the wrong pipe and sputtered. It was half because of Cameron's words, but half because the drink was strong enough to peel paint. My tastebuds has been seared off. "Whatisthis?"
"My own concoction," Damon replied.
I handed him back the cup. "Sorry. I much prefer the drink Ian made me."
Both men looked startled. Cameron's eyes darted between me and Damon.
"This is better than the first drink I made you," Damon said, recovering smoothly.
"Ian's drink tasted sweet. This one tastes like jet fuel. Speaking of," I glanced around the room, "where's your better half?"
Cameron was still looking between the two of us, curiosity evident, but Damon's face turned disgruntled.
"He's on his way," Damon muttered, taking a swig from the cup I'd handed back to him without flinching.
Sure enough, within seconds Ian strolled up from behind me. He slung his arm over my shoulder in a casual gesture. The trail of his fingers along my arm and neck was anything but. He pressed a new drink into my hand.
"Have you been properly traumatized?" Ian asked. "Ignore everything Cam tells you. He's a filthy liar."
"Including Damian calling dibs on me?"
Ian stiffened. I hadn't meant to say it out loud. Maybe one sip of jet fuel had been enough to loosen my tongue. Ian seemed to forced himself to relax, but I felt the tension in his arms.
"What can I say? I'm known for being possessive." His kept his tone light and airy.
Damon sidled up to my other side and curled his arm around my waist again. "Of course, I'm much more possessive than my brother. What do you say the two of us somewhere a little less crowded? Get to know each other?"
A brief flash of irritation crossed Ian's face, before it smoothed out. Damon was really getting into it, trying to make me think he was Ian, trying to confuse me. Trying to trip me up.
