Page 17 of Her Dark Angel
“Adam says being seen with Nash will bring attention to my name, and in return, I will help clean up his public image. But what I see is a twenty-six year old man who needs a babysitter to ensure he doesn’t tank his career.”
Now that I say it out loud, this whole thing really does sound crazy. But it’s too late to back out now. The deal is done.
Sadie chews on her bottom lip as her eyes lock on the group of men by the bar. I can tell she’s contemplating her next words. When her soft eyes meet mine, I already know the words on the tip of her tongue. “Just be careful, Kin. I know what Nash Beck’s track record is like. He’s a wild one.”
“He’s going to be a lot to handle,” I admit. “It’s not going to be easy, but it’s only for six months. I can last that long. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
As the words leave my mouth, mismatched eyes meet mine from across the bar. Fuck. He spotted me.
Nash grins in my direction. I want to so badly punch that fucking grin off his face, but that would land me in jail. I know Nash is used to being thrown in a holding cell, but I’m not.
Holding my gaze over his shoulder, Nash grabs the brunette by the waist and lays her back flat on the bar top, pressing himself against her lower half. All the helpless bartender can do is watch as Nash grabs a shot glass and pours the mysterious brown liquor into the girl's open mouth, her eyes eager as she watches him. He breaks eye contact with me and leans down to drag his tongue up the length of the girl's neck before plunging into her mouth, liquid spilling from the corners of their connected mouths.
Now he’s just fucking with me.
I swallow hard as I watch the two make out for way too long before Nash comes up for air. He grips her cheek in his large hand before sliding it down her chest to rest on her hip. The girl has a smile so wide on her red-painted lips you would think she orgasmed just from that one kiss.
Sadie clears her throat from beside me. “So, that’s your new boyfriend, huh?”
I exhale sharply and nod because that’s all I can do as I watch Nash chug from a bottle of Jack Daniels, the liquid sliding down his smooth throat effortlessly. The girl runs her long red fingernails down the front of his shirt before palming his crotch, not giving a single fuck that she has an entire bar for an audience.
“Yep. That’s my boyfriend all right.”
6
NASH
Holy fuck do I have a killer hangover. My head feels like a million firecrackers are going off all at once and the lights in this goddamn room are too bright. If it wasn’t for Johnny waking me up at the ass crack of dawn with James on the phone, I would still be in bed, blissfully content and relaxed.
But no, I’m sitting at a large wooden table with too many chairs for the four of us, with a pair of piercing blue eyes glaring at me. The little devil and her agent are talking with James about the details of the award show tomorrow night. I don’t know why I needed to be included in this discussion when James knows all he needs to do is tell me to be somewhere and I’ll do it. The last thing I want to do is sit in a fucking meeting.
God, how many cigarettes and other shit did I consume last night? My nose and throat are on fucking fire.
“Nash.”
My head snaps to my right where James is sitting. He’s shooting me a pointed look, but he knows I haven’t listened to a goddamn word since I walked into this room. For all I know, they could be talking about aliens or what peanut butter is made from. Who fucking knows? I don’t, and I don’t care.
“James,” I say his name in the same tone he said mine. When I raise a brow at him, he sighs in defeat.
“If you had been listening, we were discussing the ground rules for the contract.”
I point to the little devil across the table from me. Her blonde hair is tied back in a high ponytail today, the strands falling over her shoulders in soft waves. She’s a beautiful girl, but too bad she has an attitude that I don’t want to fucking deal with.
“We already discussed the ground rules.”
“Okay, good.” James runs his hand over his beard, his jaw ticking with annoyance. “As stated in the contract you signed, you can’t be seen with… um… a woman that is not Miss May for the six-month duration. Understood?”
I roll my tongue over the tender spot on the right side of my bottom lip where the metal ring pierces the skin. It’s only a week old but fuck does it still hurt. I have no recollection of getting it done the night I saw Kinsley at Limelight. I must have been off my face when we passed a tattoo shop because I also have a tattoo of devil horns on the inside of my left wrist that I don’t remember getting.
It’s fucking sick, regardless.
I huff out a sharp breath. “Yep. Understood.”
The contract states I can’t be seen with a woman in public. It doesn’t state anything about having women at my house in private. As much as I would love to give a big fuck you to James and the label, I know if I were to bring women to my house in the evening, the paps would still find a way to snap a photo and blast it all over the front of every newspaper.
It’s something I’ve grown used to over the years since Dark Angel was formed.
It just doesn’t seem fair that I have to go six months without fucking all because the label wants me to clean up my image. It’s fucking bullshit, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. I’m helpless, and that’s the way the label likes it.