“Didn’t think so.” He grins. “It’s just a bed, right? No harm, no foul.”

“I burned that bed.”

Luke laughs. “You can afford it. Yo, Vaughn, your girls are smoking hot. Any of them single?”

She darts a glance toward me, wanting direction. What’s the plan? she silently asks. I’d like to tell her that there’s no plan now, just as there wasn’t one five minutes ago, and that she’s flirting with me, Oak Ford, online. Ever since the ice cream date, I’ve seized control of my social media accounts from my PR team, but I haven’t had the balls to tell Vaughn that she’s actually interacting with me and not a bunch of assistants.

“Luke’s a dog,” I warn. “But if your girls are down with that, he plays a mean guitar.”

“Hey, I’m not a dog. More like a puppy, really.” He spreads his hands apart.

The innocent ploy makes Vaughn laugh, and an unfamiliar feeling that I label annoyance—not jealousy—sweeps over me. Luke is making her laugh? I grab her hand and pull her against me, both grateful and irritated that she doesn’t draw away. We’re in public now and she’s invested in the act.

Which is why she shifts her weight and leans into my side. Her small hand finds the back of my shirt and grips it. And I slide my arm around her back, letting my fingers dangle over the curve of her shoulder. Because this is how we’re supposed to look. Loved up. Infatuated. Just one washed-up recording artist and his made-for-the-press girlfriend.

From the way the crowd is bobbing their heads, Maverick’s killing it on stage. But none of his notes register for me. I can’t stop sneaking peeks at Vaughn, who seems more interested in watching one of her friends—a tall blonde with a good rack—flirt with Luke.

But while I’m still sorting out why I kissed her, how good it felt, and that I’d like to do it again right now even in front of all the gossip journos and paps, she looks totally unaffected. Like it was no big deal that I kissed her.

And that pisses me off.

I want to shake the complacency out of her. All the chicks in this room would trample each other to get a chance to lock lips with me. Half of them would let me screw them up against the wall while their boyfriends watched.

But Vaughn’s face shows nothing but mild interest—and not in me. Shit, is she crushing on Luke?

“That guy sold access to my bedroom.” I jerk my thumb toward Luke, who’s got his hand on the blonde’s shoulder and is pulling her toward him.

Vaughn’s head swings around. “Luke?”

“Yeah. And he’s twenty-five.”

“Eww. That’s gross. Why do you even talk to him?”

“He’s my bassist. I can’t ignore him just because he’s a dickwad sometimes.”

“Well, come on. I can’t let him slime all over my friend.” Vaughn shrugs my arm off, but before she stalks away to rescue her friend, she grabs my hand.

For appearances, I’m sure, but I grip it tight and let her drag me across the bar floor.

“Hey, Carrie.”

“Oh, my God, Vaughn! This is so cool!” Carrie throws her arms around Vaughn. The two girls stumble back, Vaughn’s body pressing against my already tense one.

I push them both upright. The last thing I need tonight is to show some inappropriate wood in my tight jeans. That’d give Claudia a coronary.

Vaughn slides me another uncertain look, one that I easily read as hurt. I open my mouth to tell her I’m sorry, but I’m tired of saying those words to her because I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be apologizing for. Kissing her? And then trying to put some distance between us when she’d rather stand here in the middle of a sweat-soaked crowd than make out with me in the green room?

“Thank you for inviting us.” Carrie pushes Vaughn to the side to launch herself at me. I catch her because otherwise she’d fall on her face. “You were amazing. So amazing.”

“Hey, hands off my merchandise,” Vaughn jokes. She slips between her friend and me, creating space. Her hand reaches for mine again and presses it against her waist.

Again, I have to remind myself that she’s just acting. And she’s good at it. So good that it makes me think, for a second, that she wants my hand on her. That she likes my body pressed against her back.

It’s all getting damn confusing for me.

“I know.” Carrie winks. “But I couldn’t resist. I mean, God, Oakley Ford. I can’t believe I’m standing next to him. Or that I touched him.” She prattles on as if I’m not even a real person.

“He’s standing right beside you, Carrie,” Vaughn chides with sweetness so her friends don’t take offense.

I hide my appreciation behind a cocky smile.

“Oakley, this is Carrie, Tracy and Kiki—she did my hair the other night—and her boyfriend, Justin. Justin’s favorite song of yours is ‘Do Her Right’.”

The big dude behind Kiki flushes.

“Hey, man.” I hold out my free hand to slap his. “Mine, too.” We all know that the first single release from Ford is about sex, so it’s not like I’m going to bust his chops over it, but his cheeks burn even hotter. He taps my hand and then pulls his chin into his chest.

The girls share a giggle that turns into a roar.

“I’m going to piss,” Justin says then stomps off.

“What’s that about?” I ask.

This time it’s Kiki who blushes, and I finally get it. They must’ve played the song while doing the dirty.

Vaughn smirks. “Let’s just say that you’re responsible for a lot of action at Thomas Jefferson High.”

“Glad I could be an inspiration.”

This sets the girl crew into hysterics.

Luke decides it’s time to open his piehole again. “We should hit up Oak’s house tonight. How about hosting an after-party, dude?”

If I wasn’t standing here in front of Vaughn and her girls, I would’ve told him no immediately, but now I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to invite a bunch of strangers into my home. If it was just me and Vaughn? I’d be okay with that. The rest of the crowd? Not so much. But it’s Vaughn’s friends and I’m kind of weirdly desperate for her to like me.

“No, we need to get home,” Vaughn says, and I try not to make my relief too obvious. “My friends have class tomorrow.”

“Vaughn,” Carrie moans, clearly embarrassed at the implication that they’re too young to stay out. “It’s fine.”

“I’m tired,” Vaughn replies. She crosses her arms across her chest and stares mutinously at her friend.

“Me, too,” I lie. It’s not even midnight.

Luke glares at me.

“In fact, after this set, I’d like to go home,” Vaughn says.

“Why?” Carrie presses. “You aren’t working. You don’t have classes.”

There’s a slight judgmental tone in her voice, as if Vaughn is a worthless piece of shit. Maybe we can abandon her with Luke.

Vaughn ignores this. “Can Ty take us home?” she asks me.

“Yes.”

Carrie relents, realizing that Vaughn’s not going to change her mind. And when it becomes obvious that I’m not going to let Luke take any one of these high school girls home with him or host a party at my place, he wanders off in search of easier game. Or at least more available game.

Maverick wails his last note, and the lights dim once and then twice to indicate a break. The crowd makes a beeline to the bathrooms.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Kiki tells me.

“Yeah, it was so awesome. We should take a picture!” Carrie shoves her camera into Vaughn’s hands.

They mean with me. Vaughn’s shrug says exactly what’s running through my mind. I can’t escape. The two girls insert themselves under each of my arms. Vaughn presses her lips together, trying not to laugh because she knows how much I hate this.

April wouldn’t have laughed. She would’ve been jealous. Vaughn thinks it’s funny that I’m being felt up by her girl squad. In fact, I think Carrie’s hand is halfway down my back pocket.