Once Upon a Sure Thing (Heartbreakers #2)(25)

But it’s true—you can’t take your eyes off them because he skates with her like it’s foreplay. Like he wants to take her home and strip her. Hell, he skates like he wants to take her right there on the ice.

She’s the same with him. She cups his cheek in a desperate sort of way, threads her hand in his hair, and her lips seem to beg his for a kiss.

“Um, two thousand views. And more comments,” Jackson announces, thrusting his phone at us, scrolling over the comments on our video.



Aretheyoraren’tthey?

OMG, they’re so pretty . . .

He is going to have her for dinner tonight.



I turn to Ally, blinking in surprise, wondering how they read my mind.

Use it.

I take her hand, lead her back to the studio, and launch right into “Need You Now” with her once more, since she secured the rights for us to sing this tune.

I play for the camera the whole time, singing to her, touching her shoulder, her hair, her hip. I go for broke at the end. After I finish my last line and the music carries us, I brush my lips to her neck. She shivers in my arms, a tremble that I swear moves through her whole body. I drag my lips lower down her neck till she lets out a soft gasp. It turns me on ferociously.

The tiniest gasp escapes her lips, a sound so soft, a noise so sensual, it sends a fresh wave of heat through my body.

I should stop, but I don’t. I kiss the hollow of her throat. She trembles against my lips, and even though we’re not alone, it feels entirely private—this kiss, her reaction, my desire. It feels like ours alone, whether the camera is rolling or not.

It makes me want to kiss her senseless.

But you always leave the audience wanting more. Slowly, I pull away, my lips already missing her skin.

Her eyes float closed for a moment as she sings the last words. When she opens them, I wonder if she’s acting too.

Or if everything just got real.





Chapter 16





Ally



That two thousand views in an hour multiplied.

Exponentially.

What started as a let’s-post-this-online experiment has steamrolled. I know the drill, since I’ve been here with Kirby. But it wasn’t our first YouTube video that took off like proverbial wildfire. It was our seventeenth.

This time, the first one with Miller is a hot, sexy charm. And so’s the second, when Jackson posts the next day with another song Miller wrote and tweaked for us.

Now, three days later, those two thousand views have avalanched into half a million views. The second video? It’s riding the coattails at a hefty 350,000 views already.

The comments are endless, a river of Whoa, is it hot in here, Mr. Hot Stuff and the sexy blonde, and Hashtag ZimmerHart.

I can’t complain, and neither will my bank account. The money is a trickle now, but as the views grow, so will the ad dollars, and every little bit helps when you have someone besides yourself to look out for. I shoot Miller a quick note while walking home on Saturday evening after picking up Vietnamese sandwiches for dinner with Chloe.



Ally: This is amazing! We need to keep this up!





Miller: I’m on the piano as we speak.





Miller: Well, I’m not literally on the piano. If I were a cat, I’d be on the piano. I'm not a cat.





Ally: Thank you for the clarification. I did wonder.





Miller: Technically, I was typing on the phone. But my ass is on the piano bench, and my fingers are on the keys. And I'm purring . . .





Ally: Meow. Keep going, pussycat! We have fans already! Eeek, fans!





After dinner, Chloe heads to the shower, and I read the comments on our videos once more, shaking my head in amazement. It really does seem the internet likes what Miller and I have going on—our music, our songs, but especially our chemistry.

So does Macy.

As I make a pot of tea, my phone pings with a text from her.



Macy: Damn, woman. Have you seen these videos? I think I’m pregnant from just watching you and Miller.





Ally: When you have your second baby, please name it Immaculate.





Macy: Oh, sorry. What did you say? I just jumped your brother. We’re having twins.





Ally: La la la la. I CAN’T HEAR YOU.





Macy: Seriously, this is so hella hot I don’t even know if there’s a temperature that can record how incendiary it is. I can’t stop watching you two. And I’m not alone. Your videos are burning up the charts.





Ally: It’s crazy, isn’t it? It was never like this with Kirby.





Macy: Well, let’s hope not! But I need you to tell me the truth. Are you dying for Miller? When I watch those videos, all I can think is that you must have climbed him like a redwood tree when the cameras stopped rolling.





Ally: No trees were scaled, I assure you. We simply have stage chemistry.





Macy: I can literally hear you lying through the transom of text.





Ally: I swear, Macy! There’s nothing happening.