Page 23 of Power Play Rivals

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Page 23 of Power Play Rivals

I follow her willingly through the crowd of couples, noticing how they are all wrapped up in each other, with stars in their eyes.

Geez.

Maybe it is a good thing someone pulled me out of here when they did.

This sickening love fest was bound to get old fast.

The girl leads me through the back door from the concert hall and takes a right through the busy corridor, which brings us to a set of stairs leading up to the stage. As we walk up, I start to feel a foreboding tingling at the nape of my neck, and as my heel hits the last step, it takes me all of two seconds to realize why that is.

Just a few steps away from us, stands a dark figure in black jeans and leather jacket.

Even though he’s not wearing his traditional three-piece suit, his large, broad shoulders, and jet-black hair give him away.

Not only is the person waiting for me not my friend, but his name isn’t Nick either. It’s Nichols.

“Lee,” Trent greets when I slide to stand beside him, his gaze never wandering from the singer in center stage.

“Nichols.”

“I was starting to think you’d turn down my offer,” he says smugly.

“I considered it. If I knew you were behind such a gift, I might have taken my time to consider it even further.”

“And miss all this?” he retorts, waving his hand to the stage, still not looking at me.

“You’re right.” I shrug, locking my gaze on the performance in front of us. “Your company is a small price to pay.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replies with indifference, but I don’t miss the trace of a smile that starts to touch his lips, making mine hard to keep in check.

“I am curious, though.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, don’t you know?” he teases.

“That’s okay. This cat has nine lives.”

“And claws,” he adds.

“Sharp ones,” I pile on.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he rebukes, the timber of his voice dropping an octave.

I clear my throat and tip my chin up to look immune to his sexy-ass insinuation.

“As I was saying,” I clear my throat. “I had no idea that this was even your type of thing. Had I known you’d scored VIP tickets, then I might have been more amiable with you yesterday,” I taunt.

“Who says I had tickets then?”

“Well, you must have had, considering you’re here.”

“Maybe I bribed someone to tell me where you’d be tonight and made a few calls to get VIP tickets.”

“Is that what happened?”

“You tell me?” he says, turning to face me this time, his black eyes sparkling with the lighting coming from the stage.

I swallow dryly at the way my skin instantly feels too hot with just one look.

And don’t get me started on how disarming he looks tonight.




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