The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(30)

“Damn, girl.” I pulled away to send her a censorious glare. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Jodi gave a nervous laugh, her eyes glassy with panic. “Too much.” She turned back to Asher and gulped. “Obviously.”

Asher grinned at her but just as quickly turned to me. “Hey, whenever you have a second, I want to introduce you to the guys I work with.”

He was looking right at me, so I guess he was talking to me. I bit back a wince, a little wary of meeting too many more people in this mask. It was a great guise, but I didn’t much care for the nip of guilt that came with deceiving more people.

But Asher was still looking at me, and his green eyes were so captivating. Damn gorgeous green eyes.

I ended up nodding and saying, “Sure. Okay. Whenever.” So he started to lead me toward the bar, and I guess whenever was right then. Mierda.





I don’t know how many times we were stopped by fans, wanting to hug Asher, kiss him, or just touch his shirt. Some were too reluctant to actually make contact but still hovered, crowding as close as they dared and making our trek to the bar seem like the Boston Marathon.

Mostly he was vague and distant with everyone, smiling with them and then setting them an arm’s length away once he let them have a hug.

We were only about five feet from our destination when a pretty little blonde squirmed her way through the people to reach him, screeching, “Asher!”

He broke into the biggest grin and swept his up into her arms, kissing the side of her head.

I have no clue why that bothered me. I barely knew this guy, and feeling all possessive of someone just because I thought he was hot totally wasn’t my style. Hell, I hadn’t even blinked an eyelash when female fans had frenched Fisher right in front of me...when I’d been engaged to him. Yet the urge to pull blondie off Asher by way of all that pretty pale hair hit me hard.

Maybe because he looked so happy when he gazed at her. I liked it better when he smiled at shit I said. “Hey, beautiful,” he called over the noise into her ear. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

I was mentally trying to nitpick his girlfriend’s looks apart, but dammit, not finding a single flaw about her, when he turned her my way.

Oh, joy, I realized. I was going to get introduced to the perfect specimen.

“Sticks, this is Caroline.”

I lifted an eyebrow as I glanced at him. “The reason we played ‘Sweet Caroline’ tonight? Twice.”

He grinned back. “The very.”

Turning to her, I opened my mouth to lie and tell her how nice it was to meet her when someone shouted our way. “Okay, f*cker. Enough kissy, huggy time. Hands off. Now!”

I glanced over to catch sight of a guy behind the bar giving Asher the finger.

Curious why he was so irate, I asked, “Who’s that?”

Asher’s grin grew as Caroline slipped away from him. “Caroline’s husband.”

My eyebrows spiked in surprise, and yes, a little ball of relief welled in my gut. After I watched Caroline skip up to the bar to kiss the man still flipping off Asher, I frowned Asher’s way. “So you were flirting with her because...?”

He chuckled. “Because it’s fun as shit to f*ck with Ten. Seriously, you should try it.”

He nudged me forward until I was standing where Caroline had been, because she’d already flitted away to talk to a brunette and a redhead about twenty feet down the counter.

“So that’s your wife, huh?” I asked, taking in the guy Asher had called Ten. When I met his gaze, I was surprised to see half his face was scarred. Ouch.

Glancing longingly after Caroline, he nodded. “I know, right? I’m a lucky-ass bastard.”

I let out a low whistle. “I’ll say, because holy shit...she’s got a sweet ass. I bet every man in this joint would give his left nut to tap that.”

Ten’s smile died flat. “What did you say, motherf*cker?”

With a snicker, I nudged Asher in the arm. “You’re right. That was fun.”

He choked on the water he’d been chugging from a bottle and ended up spitting some out onto the countertop.

When he started laughing, Ten pointed at me and demanded of him, “Who the f*ck is this douchebag?”

“Ten, meet Sticks. Newest member of the band. He’s our drummer.”

“Looks like a dead drummer to me.”

“Oh, leave him be,” Asher told him mildly enough as he grabbed a napkin and wiped away his mess. “I told him to mess with you.”

But Ten was already climbing over the bar toward me, looking determined to maim.

Holy shit. I lurched in reverse, my eyes bugging with worry. But damn, one night in public, and two guys had already threatened to beat my ass.

Were men always this punchy?

Asher held up a hand and stepped between us. “Relax,” he ordered, his voice harsh. “Sticks is gay. He won’t seriously mess with Caroline.”

Ten jerked to a stop and sent Asher an incredulous glance before he turned back to me and narrowed his gaze into a suspicious scowl. “He didn’t sound very gay with the shit he was spouting about her.”

I held up both my hands. “I am. Trust me. I think you’re hotter than your wife is. Swear to God.” And just because it really had been fun to rile him, I stared after his wife and shrugged. “I mean, sure, she’s got a nice rack and all.” The perfect shape and size to drive a girl like me absolutely jealous. “But I’d rather see what you’re packing behind that zipper of yours.”