I got some glasses down from the cabinet, and she divided the green stuff between us. It sloshed into the glasses with a thud.

“You know, maybe I don’t need this. I feel better all ready,” Spider said uneasily as he stared at it. I bit back a grin because his face was almost the same color as the drink. Spider might be an abrasive bastard, but his stomach was as delicate as a newborn’s.

“Drink it,” she ordered him with a smile, and for a second I thought he might resist, but he took a small test sip.

I chugged mine to the last drop. “Excellent,” I lied. No way was I going to ruin her memory of her and her mom’s thing.

She leaned over to encourage Spider, and I got antsy. Did I notice that his eyes were glued to her rack? Maybe. Did I notice that she ran her eyes over his bare chest more than once? Yeah.

I set my glass down sharply. “How’d you end up in LA?”

“Lots of reasons. Mostly to get out of New York.”

“Is that where your ex is?” I tried to sound smooth.

She blinked. “Yes.”

Good, he was thousands of miles away. I nodded. “How’s the playing coming? Any closer to getting yourself on a stage?”

Fear flickered over her face as she fiddled with her glass. “I have a job coming up, but I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Maybe you could play with us sometime?” I said. “We practice a few days a week at a studio on Melrose. You could even ride with us down there.” Dammit. Even though I didn’t mean to, I was sending mixed signals.

Spider’s eyes had widened at my offer. Girls were generally not allowed at our work sessions. I ignored his searching looks.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, but I could tell by how stiff she’d gotten that the thought terrified her. She checked her watch. “I have to go. I have an appointment later.”

She was running away. Part of me was glad, but the insane side of me wanted her to stay. I let out a sigh. “Sure, let me walk you to the door.”

She said her goodbye to Spider, and we walked to the foyer where I asked for her phone. She handed it over, and I typed in my digits.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting my number in so you can call me if you ever need anything. That’s a big house you live in. It worries me.”

She stared at me. “I think you made it quite clear last night that it's not a good idea for you to be alone with me at my house.”

I groaned at the memory. “I’m sorry for kissing you and then pushing you away. I never should have let it get that far.”

She nodded and stared at the ground. “No, it was my fault.”

“No, it was mine. I had to kiss you. I wanted to since the ice cream shop.”

She sent me a sly smile. “Well, if you change your mind about some super-hot-no-strings-attached-sex with me, I’m ready—” She burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. Oh my God, if you could see your face right now. It’s bright red and I swear some sweat just popped out on your forehead.”

“You’re a little devil,” I muttered and turned to the side—trying to hide my erection.

“Or a very good tease,” she said softly.

I licked my lips. “Do you want to spend the day with us? Maybe drive out to Malibu and catch some rays?” I had plans with Blair, but I’d chuck them.

She bit her lip and shook her head. “Maybe next time,” she said as she slipped out the door.

I watched her slowly disappear down the drive as Spider walked up behind me.

“You been lurking back there, listening?”

“You know it,” he said. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in this house since Monster rolled in her own shit and we had to take her to the puppy salon.”

I chuckled at the memory. “Poor thing. She was terrified of the blow dryer.”

“And the pink hair bow they put on her—bloody ridiculous. Her name is Monster.”

My eyes followed his to V. “Stop looking at her ass,” I said, trying to edge him out of the door as we jostled for the best view. Like kids.

He sent me a calculating look. “You missed it at the door when she said she liked my hair. I think I love her.”

“Stay away from V.” I’d tensed up. I wasn’t kidding anymore.

“Why? Maybe she wants to get on the Spider train. You aren’t interested in her—are you?”

“No,” I bit out, my jaw clenched.

“Bollocks. You’re a liar.”

I glared at him. “I can’t date anyone right now. Not with the media breathing down my throat, expecting to see me with Blair. I made a deal with her, and I can’t just break it off. It would cause a shitstorm of negative publicity.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, I get it. But V’s the kind of chick that won’t stay single for long. And those eyes? I mean you could drown in them. Like fucking pansies.”

“Coming from the guy who only notices tit size?”

He cocked his head. “Maybe with her, I’d do it different.”

My hands fisted. When it came to V, something in me was wired to explode. I wanted to pound his face. “No joke. Stay away from her.”

Spider took a sip of his coffee, all Mr. Cool to my hothead. “She cares about people. You can tell by the way she waltzed in here and wanted to make me feel better.”

“Yeah? You know what else I noticed about her? She’s rich. And she has an ex-boyfriend who’s calling her. That remind you of anyone?”

“She’s nothing like Emma. First of all, cock sucking isn’t her primary talent. Second, V’s classy. Emma is nothing but a Dallas debutante with a hard-on for diamonds and social standing.”

I tried to tune him out. But it’s hard to tune out a blue-haired English dude in his underwear. “She could be the one for you,” he said, his tone serious.

The one? I reared back. His hangover had addled his brain. He didn’t sound like Spider at all. “Since when did you get all mushy?”

“Dammit, maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” he snapped and then stalked off to get dressed.

Okkaaay.

“I’d dropped out of college, had never had a real job, or even had a good orgasm. I didn’t know jack, but I did know that even after the people you love are torn from you, time keeps beating away at the black metronome that’s called life. It doesn’t care that you’ve cracked wide open, that you’re screaming for everyone to just stop. It doesn’t hear you. You are nothing. People still go to dinner, planes take off and land, lions roar, violins play. And you are left in your corner, hanging on to memories, nothing more than a speck of dust on the metronome’s base.”