“I want the picture of my Mommy next to my bed,” I said, my voice flat. “And my stuffed rabbit that’s on my bed.”

“I’ll get those things and some clothes for you,” a strange lady said from beside me.

The man opened the back door to a strange car, and I crumpled, falling into it. First I’d killed my mom, and now I’d sent my dad away. I was nothing. I had nothing.

“It’s going to be okay,” the man said. Tears rolled down my face, but I couldn’t look at him. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

I shot up, sweat soaking my body as I came back into reality from the dream. Flinging the covers off, I stripped my shirt and shorts off and headed for the shower.

I hated that fucking dream. I hated all of them. They wouldn’t leave me alone and let me move on. So my dad had been arrested, and I’d been taken away from him. That was so long ago that it still shouldn’t be haunting me.

I hadn’t had any contact with my dad since I was seven years old, and strangers had come into my bedroom and ripped me from the only life I’d ever known. It hadn’t been until I was a teenager and left the tenth foster home I’d lived in that I even looked up where he was.

I stepped into the hot shower, letting it wash the nightmare and all the thoughts of my dad down the drain. I was surprised at just how sore I was from the evening with Johnny. I smiled. God, that man. What I ever did to deserve to have sex with him was beyond me. I wasn’t sure anyone would ever compare to him.

He wanted to take me to lunch today and hang out on our rare day off. Johnny wanted to take me out. I’d agreed, but I’d also been in post-orgasm (okay, post-multiple-orgasm) bliss.

What are you doing, Bex? This is never going to end well. Johnny kept saying we were friends, but I didn’t know how to have friends, and neither did he. I was leaving to go on tour, and then what? Did friends talk to each other on the phone? Text? Email? I lived with Beau and Natalie and spent most of my days with them, so I had no idea. Sad, huh?

I liked to have sex with him. A lot. Duh. Wouldn’t anyone? The man had serious skills. I touched my sensitive flesh, the images flashing through my head like a movie reel. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly go another round, he’d prove me wrong.

There’d only been a handful of times over the last ten years that I’d slept with a guy more than once; there was always an understanding that Bex didn’t do strings. Well, I take that back. The only strings I did were on my guitar. The rest, no. Give me what we both want and get the hell out.

I’d broken all the rules with Johnny.

I liked breaking the rules.

Something was wrong with me.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Natalie slid a cup of coffee across the bar as I walked into the kitchen. She was the only one that could give me shit and get away with it, and she used it to her advantage frequently. Damn that saving my life and shit.

“Shut the fuck up,” I said with a smile. “Give me the coffee and no one gets hurt.”

“I heard you come in last night,” Natalie said, sipping her own nectar of the gods. “Or should I say, this morning.”

I shrugged. “So?”

She wiggled her eyebrows. “He’s that good, is he?”

I snorted, thankfully not while drinking coffee. “Natalie, you seriously need to get laid.”

She narrowed her eyes on me. “I’ve been a little busy. I’ll gladly take a turn with Johnny.”

I swore steam rose out of my ears, and it wasn’t from the coffee. “The fuck you will.”

Natalie roared. “Oh Bex, you have it bad.”

“Have what bad? He’s a fucking god in bed. Shit, that man.”

She shook her head at me. “If that’s what you’re going with. Anyone that looks at him can tell that. He’s the whole ‘bad boy’ package. I don’t think anyone would throw that out of their bed. Those muscles . . . the tattoos . . .”

“Shut. Up.”

She smirked. “Is Bex jealous?”

It was time to put this banter to bed for once and for all. “Jealous? Of what? That he gave me so many orgasms last night I thought I might die? That I could hardly walk to my car or up to the apartment? That I have scruff burn on my . . .”

Natalie smacked her hand down on the counter. “Okay stop. You win. I need a cold shower and a visit with B.O.B.”

I crossed my arms in front of me. “It won’t do the job like he does,” I gloated. “And, I always win.”

“You’ve seen him more than once,” she said. She was always calling me on my shit, no matter what.

“And?” I sipped the coffee, buying myself a few more seconds before the inquisition. I was only tolerating this because I was still daydreaming about all of the things I would do to Johnny later after lunch. I wondered if we could find a secluded place and live out his fantasy of his bike . . .

“You don’t see anyone that much.” My eyes snapped back to hers as she interrupted my daydream.

“You just said yourself no one would throw him out of their bed.”

“You’re deflecting.”

I sighed. “And you’re pissing me off. Drop it.”

She stared at me for a moment. “I have a phone conference today with Halestorm’s manager. I have a shit ton to do before we roll out.”

Thank God she dropped it. “Okay.”

Natalie nodded. “You seeing Johnny today?” Ugh. I should’ve known it was too good to be true.

I didn’t want to tell her anything, but somehow Natalie always got it out of me. “Lunch later and hanging out.”

Her eyebrow lifted. “You’re going on a date?”

I gritted my teeth. I loved this girl and she’d dedicated her life to this band, but if she didn’t shut up, I was going to lose it. “I don’t fucking date. It’s lunch, Nat.”

“You’re going to lunch and to ‘hang out.’ With a guy. That’s a date. You’ve never been on a date.”

I smacked my hand on the counter. She crossed her arms, undeterred by my tantrum. “We’re friends. Friends go to lunch.”

“Bex.” Natalie leaned over and put her hand on mine, which I promptly yanked away. “You don’t have friends other than me and Beau. No offense, but you aren’t friends with Johnny.”

“How the fuck do you know what we are?” I stood, walking across the kitchen to refill my coffee and grab a muffin.

“I saw him watching you last night at rehearsal. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nat. Not that I have to defend myself to you, but we have sex. A lot of it. He was probably picturing all the things he was going to do to me.”

“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever known,” Natalie said. “Have lunch with your friend, Bex. Fuck him six ways to Sunday, too. But don’t be surprised when he wants more.”

“Johnny doesn’t want more. We both agreed.”

She nodded, giving me the ‘you’re full of shit’ look. “If you say so.” With that, she walked back to her room and shut the door. As soon as it closed, I flipped her off. It made me feel momentarily better.

We agreed.

I still agreed.

Right?

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Johnny said as he walked up to the table. “I had a hard time getting out of bed today.”

I smiled, knowing exactly why that was. “You’re good. I just got here.”

He surprised me by sitting next to me in the booth instead of across from me. I gasped as he grabbed my head and pulled me to him, kissing the breath right out of me. His tongue glided against mine. The scent of his aftershave wafted through my senses, and I immediately wanted him. Again.

Just before I was going to climb in his lap and give the restaurant a show, he pulled back. My lips stung from the kiss in the best way. “Hi,” he said, a small smirk on his lips.

“Well hi,” I said. I reached my hand out and touched my lips.