“But what about you? You’re soaking wet.”

“You get ready, and then I’ll drive us to my place so I can change.”

She gave me a wide-eyed stranger-danger look and I laughed. So that was the face she made every time I asked her probing questions on the phone.

“Here.” I pulled out my soggy wallet and fished out my ID. “Take a picture of my driver’s license and send it to Kristen.”

I handed it over and she looked at it. “You really are an organ donor.”

“And not a creeper or a pirate. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

She laughed, and I couldn’t even take my eyes off her.

She smiled up at me. “Give me a second to get changed.”

Chapter 11

Sloan

? Name | Goo Goo Dolls

This place isn’t as crappy as I thought it was going to be,” I said, loud enough that Jason could hear me through the door.

Jason lived in a silver Airstream trailer parked behind some music executive’s mansion in Calabasas. An Olympic-size pool glistened within ten steps of Jason’s front door, surrounded by birds of paradise and waterfalls. The whole place was green.

I could only imagine how much it cost to water everything in the drought. There were penalties for using too much water. My lawn was dead. I’d like to say this was due to my support of water conservation, but my sprinklers were broken and I couldn’t afford the fix or the water to bring the grass back to life. Whoever owned this place must be loaded.

His trailer was small, but neat and comfortable. No frills. Kind of exactly where I would have expected Jason to live. He was a bit of a minimalist, from what he’d said to me during our talks.

He’d driven us over in his black truck, and that was practical and functional too. It was older but clean. Not like my car. I made a mental note to never let Jason in my car.

He laughed. “And why were you expecting someplace crappy?” he said from the other side of the bedroom door.

“Because you said Tucker chewed up everything.”

I picked up a picture frame from the counter and studied the photo of Jason in thick winter clothes, smiling with his dog. A snowy backdrop as far as the eye could see spilled out behind them. Not my favorite shot of him. I liked the ones where I could see more skin. I set it down hurriedly as he opened the door of his room.

God, he was easy to look at. I felt my face flush. Again.

When he’d walked into my kitchen, my body had turned on like a house coming out of a two-year-long power outage. Everything switched on until the entire place was lit and all the appliances were running. Heart, cheeks, lungs, eyes, the tips of my fingers, the butterflies in my stomach, ringing in my ears, weakness in my knees. All alive, all buzzing with electricity.

He looked from me to the picture frame. “That’s in Minnesota,” he said, leaning on the counter, his arm almost touching mine. I swallowed hard. He smelled good. Really good. Something crisp and clean, like pine and fresh laundry. It made me want to lean in and take a deep breath.

His luggage sat in the small sitting area, and a guitar case rested on a bench by the tiny table. It reminded me how short a time he’d actually been back. He’d flown in, had about an hour to himself, then had gone to meet me.

“Aren’t you tired?” I asked, peering over at him. “You just got off a fifteen-hour flight.”

“I can sleep just about anywhere. I got enough rest on the plane.”

He leaned well inside my personal bubble. I think he did it on purpose. I could actually feel the heat coming off his body. My conservative side, the side that couldn’t forget I’d been engaged to another man, wanted me to take a step back. But the side that suspiciously sounded like Kristen ran out of breath yelling at me to hold my ground.

I held my ground.

I was single and was allowed to feel like this. I was permitted to flirt and get butterflies when another man stood too close. And I was definitely getting butterflies now.

“Are you here permanently? In LA?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from betraying my reaction to his nearness.

“For the moment. They wanted me here for the soundtrack I was working on. My recording studio’s here, and it was just easier to coordinate everything with me living locally. Plus, it puts me close for the events I have to attend.”

“What events?”

“Well, there’s the movie premiere,” he said. “And I went to the Grammys.”

“You went to the Grammys?”

“Yeah, it was kind of a broad industry invite that I got in on,” he said dismissively. He looked at my lips. “So, do you like my place?” he asked, somewhat distantly, talking to my mouth.

“I didn’t know what to expect. I thought maybe there’d just be a hammock between some trees or something.”

He laughed and his piercing blue eyes creased at the corners. I hadn’t anticipated those eyes. There were some things photos just couldn’t do justice to.

“When my label moved me to LA, they included housing. But I like my trailer. My agent, Ernie, offered a spot on his property. He’s got a gym in the pool house and I have free run of the laundry room.”

I smiled. “This place is a compound,” I said. “Those are what? Thirteen-foot gates? Are you sure you don’t want to ride out the zombie apocalypse here?”