Bleary-eyed and sore, I didn’t have the willpower to get up, so I checked for new emails. I was surprised to find I’d gotten one from Palmer in the middle of the night—subject line "HCs Urgent."

R: Looked at your analysis and agree. HCs budget = f**ked. Needs minimum 10% cuts, not gonna be easy in 2 weeks. In recognition, got the higher-ups to approve $20k bonus for on-time completion. Don’t say I never did anything for you. Don’t f**k this up.

—P

My breath caught in my throat. Twenty thousand dollars? Holy crap. That was almost four full months of salary, enough to pay off the rest of my student loans and still have enough left over for a week of sipping umbrella drinks on a tropical beach. This, alone, could make up for my crummy luck so far. I was so excited I could’ve kissed my phone.

I stopped just before my lips made contact with the screen. There was one thing that stood between me and the biggest bonus of my career so far, and his name was Jax.

Reducing a budget was already a difficult task, but if Jax wanted to oppose my cuts, he could hold up the process for ages while we tried to hammer out the details. I had to get him on my side, which meant I needed to win him over.

But that was a whole other problem in itself. He was trouble. Serious trouble. All he wanted was to play games with me, and it didn’t help that I was drawn to him in spite of how much he frustrated me. My strategy had first been to avoid him, and now, more recently, to tell him off. But if I wanted that bonus, it would mean I’d have to persuade him to be agreeable. How the hell was I going to pull this off?

Shaking my head at my new dilemma, I raised from the couch, and a sudden shooting pain traveled up my neck, reminding me of how terribly I slept last night. As I simultaneously yawned and groaned in agony, I figured out how I could relieve these aching muscles.

I pressed my ear up against the stairwell. Light snores greeted me from upstairs, and as I looked around, I couldn’t see any of Chewie’s telltale clouds of secondhand smoke. Perfect. I hadn’t had time to sprawl out on my own since I’d gotten on the bus.

I rummaged through my suitcase for my new bikini, taking the tags off the purple-and-green plaid top and solid green bottoms as I went into the bathroom to change. I had packed the bikini in a flash of inspiration, when I thought that we might be stopping by some hotels during the tour.

When I finished changing and came out of the bathroom, I spotted a set of stemmed glasses and three bottles of Dom Perignon next to the staircase, all opened. Two were completely empty, and I could see the bubbles still clinging to the sides of the third. Last night must have been crazy.

I looked around at some of the goodies the band had brought back to the bus. Part of me wanted to yell at them because of their wasteful spending—but another part of me was sorry I’d missed it.

I couldn’t stand the sight of expensive champagne going to waste, so I fixed myself a mimosa. Drink in hand, I climbed the stairs to the roof deck, and found what I was looking for: the hot tub, warm and inviting in the early morning light.

I slid the cover off the hot tub and dipped a toe in. Mmm, warm. As I set my glass on the edge of the tub and lowered my aching body into the water, an involuntary sigh of relief escaped my lips. There, that was much better.

The wind whipped through my hair as the bus rolled smoothly down the highway. I was high above the traffic, so even though I was technically outside, the roof deck still managed to seem almost private. I closed my eyes, feeling like I’d fallen into someone else’s dream.

I didn’t know how I was going to fix my Jax problem, but between his late-night party schedule and how early I’d woken up, he’d still be asleep for hours anyway. I could at least enjoy the calm before the inevitable storm.

As I sunk my body lower into the water, the warmth rose up my neck to the bottom of my chin. I turned on the bubbles and loved how the jets massaged my aching body. With each slow breath, I felt my muscles unknotting and my tension easing away.

When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was purple.

The swirling water was rapidly changing color. I realized with horror that the culprit was my own bikini top. "Shit!" I said, standing up as quickly as I could. Was it really too much to ask for a bikini, of all things, not to bleed dye when it hit warm water?

I realized immediately that I had two choices: get out of the tub now before any more dye bled in or take my top off. No matter how crazy I’d gotten, toplessness in public had always been a no-go for me, drunk or sober.

I started to get out, but cried out when a back muscle spasmed. If I got out now, I’d be sore for the rest of the day, maybe longer. I looked around as a precaution, but didn’t see anyone. The water was high enough to cover my chest, and I was pretty sure no one would be able to see me from the road. The coast was clear.

With a sigh, I untied the back of the bikini top and set it on a deck chair just outside the tub. I made sure it was within reach, in case I needed to grab it quickly.

At least it was the top, not the bottom, I thought as I sank back into the tub. The jets were working their magic, and I closed my eyes in relaxation again. Ah, wardrobe malfunction aside, this was the life. The Hitchcocks took rockstar luxe to the next level, and it was such foreign territory that I couldn’t help but be awed. Officially, I disapproved, but it was impressive in its own way to see what kind of tour bus would satisfy their requirements.

My parents had prided themselves on their frugality, and even my modest weekend warrior lifestyle had earned me a number of well-meaning lectures from mom and dad. I wondered what they’d think if they could see me today, drinking last night’s champagne at seven in the morning, topless in a hot tub that belonged to a rock band.

I made a mental note to text them later. I’d have to tell them I was busy with my accounting work in Manhattan, a comforting lie that would hopefully keep them from calling back until the two-week stint was over.

The wind picked up with a massive gale that made the bus' top deck sway. I held my glass tight, eyes closed, relishing the feel of the currents. The wind slowly died down and I opened my eyes again.

Then I saw him standing there on the roof deck.

The bikini top lay in a crumpled heap beside Jax’s black flip flops, blown halfway across the deck by the wind. His dark eyes were piercing straight into me.

"Eeep!" I squeaked as I quickly turned the bubbles to HIGH and sank into the water, mortified by the situation.

He was dressed in a t-shirt and slate gray shorts that sagged slightly at one side of his hips. His long hair was more than a little tousled like he’d been tossing and turning in bed. This new side of him was surprisingly hot and it only added to my shock.

Does he see the top? Please be no. Please be no. After the stunts he’d already pulled on me, I dreaded him discovering how much of an advantage he could have over me right now.

He nodded at my mimosa. "You start drinking early, I see."

His eyes were on me rather than his feet, which made me think that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t see the purple bikini. "You’re awake," I said, as if to confirm to myself that this nightmare was really happening. "I thought you’d be sleeping for a long time." My arms hugged against myself tight. I was silently praying he’d leave soon so I could get my top back.

"Never got the hang of sleeping," he said casually. His feet shifted slightly as he ran a hand through the sexy mess of his hair, fixing a problem spot.