I want to die. I want to curl up into a tiny ball of embarrassment and die. But I can't help smiling at the chorus of manly -- and more than a few feminine -- cheers I get. I've never had this many men looking so appreciatively at me before. Just gotta say, I could get used to it.

A frown creases her brow. "You okay? You seem weird."

Yeah, I'm weird all right. I'm dying to tell her exactly how weird, but not in front of all these people.

"I swear you're psychic, Pepper."

"More like psych-o," mumbles a scowling businessman who's squeezing past. Uh oh, big mistake, buddy.

With no hesitation, Pepper whips out her phone and shouts, "Hey! Limp dick!"

The offending jerk spins around, surprised that she heard him. Before he can blink, she's snapped his pic.

"Banned! Now get outta my shop!"

Pepper may be short and squat but she's got a big personality and an even bigger voice. Everyone in the cafe stops what they're doing and turns to watch the drama unfold. The guy sputters and turns crimson. His head looks like it's about to pop right off his shoulders with rage, but the dude he's with drags him out by the arm.

"Keep your mouth shut, Spencer, or she'll ban me, too!" Ah, self-preservation is a beautiful thing.

Once they're gone, Pepper smiles broadly. "You know what this means, right, folks? A round of Pepper's Poppers on the house!"

A rousing cheer erupts from the patrons as she guides me through the throng to the kitchen. The tourists look bewildered but the regulars know that every time Pepper bans a customer, she gives everyone else in the place one of her famous Pepper's Poppers, baked jalapeños stuffed with gorgonzola and bacon. Just like everything on her menu, they're to die for.

"Poppers for the house, Raul," she says as we pass her sous chef, who shakes his head.

"Third time this week, boss," he reminds her.

She grins and ushers me out the back door. "Must be the full moon, Raul. Either that or people are assholes."

The tiny alley back here stinks of garbage but it's the closest to privacy we can get. Pepper's warm brown eyes bore into mine, concern etched on her pretty, round face.

"Spill."

It's all she has to say for me to launch into my story about Drax. About what a jerk he is, how irresistible he is, how he planted the hottest kiss on me without so much as a 'by your leave', and how terrified I am to go to the show tonight.

She doesn't say a word or react until I get to the part about running out of the record store to come see her. She leans back, tapping a sparkly green fingertip to her plump red lips, and gives me another full-body assessment.

"First of all, I can certainly see why he stuck his tongue down your throat. I'm half-tempted myself."

I bark out a laugh and the release of tension feels great. Trust Pepper to know how to get me to chill out.

"Second of all," she continues, "tell me again why taking a ride on the Bony Express would be so bad? I mean, girl. It's been a loooooong time, right?"

I shouldn't be surprised she's throwing this in my face again. About once a month, she feels compelled to remind me. As if I'm not fully aware that I'm this close to reverting back to virgin-hood.

 "You know damn well it has, which is part of the problem. Duh!"

 She grins and tickles me. "Time to get back on that horse, my sistah from another mistah!"

I'm giggling but slap her hands away anyway. "Pepper, I'm serious. If my boss caught wind of this..."

"Whatever. Who's gonna tell him? Not Mr. Tall, Dark and Demonic, that's for sure. I know you won't. So stop pretending that's a real excuse, Lo. You're just afraid of getting hurt again, admit it."

How does she know what's going on inside my head better than I do? But she's pinpointed the real issue, which was so buried in my subconscious that it hadn't even occurred to me. I actually feel like I've been slapped. Slapped with reality.

She pulls me into her arms and I hold on tight. "I know, honeybear, I know. But you can't live your life that way. Sometimes you have to take risks, and you know what those dipshit finance guys who come in for lunch always say..."

"Yes, ma'am, whatever you say, ma'am?"

She laughs and pushes me back. I'm grateful that she leaves her hands on my shoulders, though. I need that connection right now.

"Naturally. But they also say 'big risk, big reward.'"

"They also say to never risk what you can't afford to lose," I counter.

"But what's at risk here, Lauren? It's not like this guy is even remotely a long-term prospect. At worst, he's a one-night stand. At best, he's a one-night stand. Sounds like even odds to me."

"Pepper, I've only ever been with Taggart."

She snorts at the mention of my ex-boyfriend who broke my heart last year.

"Taggart's a douche. Never treated you right. This guy...I have no doubt that he knows exactly how to treat a woman. In bed, at least."

"Pepper, you know I've never had a one-night stand before. I never really thought of myself that way."

"Might be just the thing to break that dam, know what I mean?" She rolls her eyes dramatically. "Poor guy won't know what hit him. It'll be like a passion tsunami!"

We laugh until our cheeks hurt. Pepper's the first to catch her breath.

"Seriously, Lo. So what if he's a bit of an alpha? Go with it. Let him toss you around a bit. I promise you, it'll be a night you'll never forget. When you're 80 and lying in bed next to your sweet, old-man husband, you'll remember tonight and feel like a girl again."

"Ya think?"

"Oh yeah. But only if it's what you want, okay? Now, I'm sorry, but I need to get back up front. You good?"

"I'm good. Thanks for sparing the time, Pep." We embrace one more time and she pops a smooch on my cheek.

"Anything for you, my sweet. Now go get laid already."

I arrive at the amphitheater about a half-hour before the sound check is supposed to start. Roadies are putting the finishing touches on the stage and equipment, and everything seems to be going smoothly. All the hustle and bustle helps keep my mind off the fact that every minute brings me closer to seeing Drax again.

My heart starts thudding like crazy knowing he'll be here soon. I wonder how he'll react when he sees me again. Will he sweep me up in his arms or will he brush me off? I'm hoping for the former but the ugly whispers in my head are betting on the latter. He's got a reputation to maintain, they say, and getting gushy for some frumpy promoter isn't going to help it any.

Then I remember the way his eyes smoldered when he looked at me and the whispers go quiet. They can't argue with that. Bitches.

I know I shouldn't read too much into what happened earlier. It's not like either of us expect this to last beyond tonight. He's leaving town tomorrow morning for Las Vegas, if I remember his schedule correctly, and I'm going to stay here and hope Harry will take me on permanently.

So why is a fine layer of perspiration coating my skin? Why do I keep checking my makeup with the mirror app on my phone? Jeez, I'm acting like a lovestruck groupie...or Papi.

Shoving my phone in my pocket with a grunt of disgust, I head backstage toward the green room. I'll probably have a heart attack if Drax is there -- partly from seeing him again so soon after we practically humped in my dads' store, but also because I have a sneaking suspicion he's perpetually late.

Yet another reason why nothing meaningful could ever develop between us. I have a pathological need to be early to everything. We're just too different. Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I'll eventually believe it and forget about the way his lips felt against mine, or how my mouth still burns from his rough whiskers, or how his hands caressed my butt like it was the most precious treasure he'd had the pleasure to touch.