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A STANDALONE TO HELP YOU START THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING RANDOM SERIES:
I guzzled another flute of Champagne and froze, the liquid in my throat, waiting to be swallowed.
Tyler was here.
We'd met a few times before, in passing. He was the substitute bass player for the band; I was the lead guitar player's girlfriend's best friend. In that weird sort of social circle thing where Venn diagrams get laid over different groups, Tyler and I were bound to be in the crossover once in a while.
He looked so hot. Short brown hair. A few days of beard. Bright green eyes that were more guarded than a Russian mobster's. He was sleeved, the colorful tattoos a tapestry, but every time I met him I couldn't quite see them. We only saw each other in dark concert halls, or tonight, under the stars.
He gave Sam a rare smile and a hearty handshake, forearm muscles bulging. I wondered what it would be like to have those hands on me. My fingers...
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First published April 5, 2021