Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(14)

“Rock.”

I wasn’t surprised in the least. “So who plays what?”

“I’m bass, Jared is lead guitar, Cory is drums, Tristan is lead vocals, and our friend Dean is rhythm guitar.”

I shot Tristan a look. “Gee, the lead singer of a rock band. I’m shocked. I never would have guessed.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

He seemed to find that funny, which was good. I’d much rather have him think I was funny, than be offended by my sense of humor.

“So when and where do I get to see you play?” I asked, turning back to Kenny.

Kenny’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure. Dean is setting up some gigs for us. Of course you’re invited, whenever that happens.”

“So what are your day jobs?” I asked, figuring they all had to have one.

“As you’ve seen, Cory is a bartender, and I’m a valet parker on the weekends here. Our friend Dean is a blackjack dealer. And Tristan and Jared are both in the club promoting business.”

“They get paid to party,” Cory added.

I couldn’t seem to keep my two cents in. “All I think when I hear club promoter is drug dealer, or unemployed.”

Jared grimaced.

Tristan just laughed. “You’re coming to the next club party I host,” he said, pointing at me.

I shrugged, giving him a sassy look. “Don’t threaten me with a good time…”

All four of them seemed to find that hilarious. I flushed with pleasure. I could get used to this kind of attention, especially since it was coming from four hot guys.

“Danika works for Jerry,” Tristan told them.

“We love Jerry!” Kenny said.

“She’s the nanny,” Tristan added.

“Holy shit,” Jared muttered.

“Did not see that coming,” Cory called out, his back to us as he mixed a drink.

“Not what I was expecting,” Kenny mused.

“Why is that so surprising to everyone?” I asked, baffled that all four of them had had the same reaction to my being a nanny.

“I had you pegged for a model,” Jared said.

“Tristan loves to date models,” Cory called out.

“Fuck off,” Tristan told him.

“We’re not dating,” I stated firmly.

“I would have guessed dancer,” Tristan told me, as though he hadn’t just told Cory to f**k off. Typical guys…

I pointed at Tristan. “This round goes to Tristan. I’m a full-time student, and a nanny, but I am an aspiring dancer, not that I ever have the time.” I returned his smile, utterly charmed by it. “And the model thing is very flattering, guys, but I’m a little short for that.”

“Not for Vegas modeling,” Jared pointed out.

“You’re what, five-eight?” Kenny guessed. “That’s tall enough.”

“I’d guess she’s five-seven,” Tristan mused, “and she is tall enough, but I’m betting she’s never even tried modeling, especially of the Vegas variety. Not your scene, right?”

I curled my lip at him. “You don’t know me that well. Quit pretending you’re an expert.”

“Am I wrong?” His brows shot up with the question.

“You’re not,” I grudgingly admitted.

I blamed the alcohol when he gave me a smug smile, and my reaction was to stick my tongue out at him.

He grabbed my hand, pulling me back out of my chair. “Just for that, we’re going for another round on the floor.”

“You’re a glutton for punishment,” I told him, but I followed easily enough.

The music had changed to Top Forty remixes, and something slow and sultry with a heavy beat had overtaken the room.

Uh oh, I thought.

My eyes narrowed on his as he pulled me flush against him, sliding one sneaky knee between mine. “What are you doing?” I asked pointedly.

“Just feeling the music. What happens on the dance floor, stays on the dance floor, and I really am just dancing with you, I swear.”

I can live with that, I thought, moving against him, letting the music take me over for another intoxicating spell.

We danced close, but he still didn’t cross any lines. We kept our lower regions very carefully apart, though our chests rubbed together more than once. I didn’t know what it said about me, or my previous relationships, but I didn’t think I’d ever been more turned on in my life as I was just from dancing with Tristan. My breath came out in little pants, every inch of my skin overheated, and not just from exertion.

“You’re absolutely positive that you don’t hookup? Not even one really awesome night together before we settle down to being friends?” His voice was a rasp in my ear that made me shiver from head to toe.

I shook my head with no hesitation. It wasn’t that I wasn’t tempted; I just knew that I would feel like shit in the morning, if I did something like that. I wasn’t someone who could handle sex without commitment. I never had been.

“I’m positive,” I said into his ear.

“No friends with benefits, either?” he asked hopefully.

“The friends with benefits thing never works.”

He pulled back to meet my eyes. “I agree,” he said, though he didn’t look happy about it. “That never works. Someone always ends up getting hurt. Sorry, I just lost my mind for second. That was an ass**le thing to say.”