I know your secret.

I stared at the text message from the unknown number. My heart pounding inside my chest seemed loud to my ears as I walked to the bus stop. My shift was over, and my feet were killing me. The concrete pavement seemed to turn my heels into daggers as I practically limped down the sidewalk. Needing a distraction, I decided to text back.

Who is this?

The response was immediate, like they were just waiting for me to ask.

The reason you’re not wearing panties.

I stopped walking as I became painfully aware of the fact that I wasn’t. How did they know? I texted back to get an answer.

Tell me who this is, or you’re blocked, creep.

A moment later, my phone rang, and my gut painfully twisted when I realized it was the same number. Even worse…it was a video call.

I debated for all of two seconds before quickly tapping the green button. What harm could a phone call do? If it turned out to be a stalker or a creep, I could just block the number.

The call connected, and my jaw dropped when Loren’s face appeared. Smiling wide, he moved his gorgeous face closer to the camera.

“Now you know, baby fawn.”

“Loren?”

A blond eyebrow arched. “You know anyone else who looks this devilishly handsome?” His nostrils flared as if expecting my answer to piss him off.

“What exactly do you think you know about me?” I asked instead of falling into his trap.

Rolling over in what looked like a bed, he stared at me before responding. “I know that you’re incredibly responsive to unusual persuasion.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

Instead of answering, his gaze moved to my background, turning from playful to assessing. “Where are you?”

“Bus stop.”

His brows instantly dipped as he shot up from his lazy lounge. “At this time of night?” he spat as if I’d done something out of line.

“Gee, Dad, I didn’t realize I had a curfew.” After rolling my eyes, I added more amicably, “My car broke down, remember?”

“You could have told us you needed a ride.”

“You guys left the restaurant hours ago. You expect me to believe you would have waited around that long?” My coworkers had lost their shit when Bound signed and gave a bunch of free merchandise before finally leaving. They’d also left me a generous tip I hadn’t earned before they left—enough to repair my car.

“We would have sent Barry to pick you up.”

“I assumed that perk was for rehearsals only.”

“Now you know,” he responded shortly.

I was thrown for a moment. Utterly bewildered. I couldn’t decide if Loren was acting like my father or my boyfriend. What right did he have to be upset about my choices when they affected him in no way? He didn’t even know me well enough to care this much as a friend.

“Speaking of late, what do you say we pick this up at a more appropriate hour?” Or not at all.

“Don’t you dare hang up,” he ordered, but it sounded more like a growl.

I hadn’t known Loren long, but this side of him had taken me by surprise. I assumed Houston was the only dominating one. Loren was more of an anarchist, staunchly rejecting authority and proudly boasting his devil-may-care attitude. I envied him.

Right now, though, he looked ready to rip my head off—mine and an imaginary enemy who wished me harm.

“I have pepper spray.”

“Do you have a gun?” he countered. “Or even a drop of self-defense skills?”

I wrinkled my nose. “No.”

“Then keep your ass on the line.”

Something akin to freshly cut grass, morning dew, or what I imagined a meadow would smell like stormed my olfactory senses. When I inhaled, the air felt clean despite the smog covering the city. It was almost familiar and not at all unpleasant. I had no clue what triggered it, but I had a feeling I’d soon find it.

I don’t remember what we talked about for the ten minutes it took my bus to arrive, but even after I safely boarded my ride home, Loren refused to let me hang up.

“Okay,” I said after I entered my apartment forty minutes later and panned the camera around to show Loren that I was home. Like a smartass, I even showed him that the door was locked, and the windows were closed. Maybe it was me that didn’t want to end the call. “Thanks for the talk. Good night.”

Ignoring my rush to get him off the phone and my head back on track, he switched topics faster than a race car switched lanes. “You know Houston is going to make you quit that little job of yours, right?”

“What?” For some reason, my vagina reacted to that way before my head, heart, or any other part of me that made sense could catch up.

“Just a heads up.” Laughing, he ended the call, leaving me hanging.

I stood there, fuming with the phantom scent of burning wood in my nose to prove it, before storming to the bathroom and a hot shower.

What right did Houston have to think he could make me quit anything? Maybe Loren was just fucking with me, but in the morning, I would absolutely get to the bottom of it.

“How do you like your eggs?” Loren greeted me hours after our late-night video chat. I couldn’t even call it the next morning since it was after midnight when we talked. It was much too intimate for two strangers who didn’t even like each other.

I’d just finished storming into Bound’s kitchen, where I found Loren and Houston waiting but no Jericho. Where is he? I wanted to ask but understood why that wouldn’t be wise. Instead, I ignored Loren, who was busy cooking breakfast at the stove and pretending he hadn’t planted this seed in the first place.

“You’re making me quit Succulent?” I demanded of Houston.

He didn’t seem surprised that I’d come in with guns blazing, making my stomach pool with dread when he shot Loren an accusatory glare. Apparently, he already knew who spilled the beans.

“It wasn’t high on my list of things to do.”

That was all the answer he gave. Not hitting Houston was becoming a full-time job.

Loren turned from the stove, scooping a steaming helping of eggs onto an empty plate and pushing said plate toward me. He didn’t seem at all concerned by the storm brewing or the fact that I’d ratted him out. It irritated me how self-assured these guys could be. They were spoiled, entitled, and had more arrogance than the ocean had water. Just once, I’d like to get under their skin as easily as they got under mine.

“I’d ask why Loren would tip you off,” Houston drawled, “but I already know why.”

Unfortunately, Houston made no move to explain it to me. I was more than simply curious. I was obsessed. They hated me, unequivocally, but there was more to it. I’d never experienced hate-sex before, and it was quickly shooting to the top of my fantasies.

“Is there some reason you feel attached to that job to keep it while rehearsing and touring with us?” Houston asked instead.

“That’s not the point. I should be allowed to come to that decision myself.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Because the tour isn’t for three months. I still need to support myself until then. I don’t even know when I’ll be paid for that.” The label had offered me an advance, one I wouldn’t receive until the tour began.

Sliding a manila folder that was already waiting on the counter, Houston gave me a pointed look when I simply looked from it to him. After a brief staring contest that I lost, I sighed and flipped it open.

Inside were forms requesting my financial and tax information and what looked like an offer to pay me for rehearsals. It was more than generous and completely unexpected. When I looked up, the question was obviously in my eyes because Houston answered before I could voice it.

“I need you focused and devoted from this point forward.” The unspoken “to them” was heavily implied.

“This is a lot of money.”

“I agree,” Loren chipped in. “Houston seems to think you’re worth it.”

I guess we were back to square one, where Loren insulted me at every turn. He was a far cry from the concerned friend that he tricked me into thinking he could be last night.

“That remains to be seen,” Houston argued. “Nonetheless, do we have an agreement?”

How could I say no to that much money in exchange for quitting a job I hated? It should have been a no-brainer, so why was I hesitating?

Perhaps it was because they’d so very clearly decided this for me without thinking of including me in the discussion. I didn’t appreciate the high-handedness, even if it did come wrapped in a pretty bow.

“What if I don’t want to quit my job?” I asked them.

“That was never an option,” Houston answered, proving me right.

“Hence why we’re paying you more than you’re worth,” Loren added. “So there’s no reason for you to say no.”

“I can think of one.” Holding up the offer, I tore it in half with a smile that would make Miss America look like a sourpuss. “You both can kiss my ass.”