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Libby raised her eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite the weakness setting into her knees. “Oh yeah? How

does your fiancée feel about that?”

Davis smiled his stunning smile. “She knows all about you. We’re in an open kind of thing. She couldn’t come with me this time, but next time we’re here she’s dying to meet you.”

The way he rocked when he moved, and his unblinking eye-contact told Libby he was lying. She’d been on the receiving end of his bullshit for long enough to know.

“That’s great for you, Davis, but my fiancée is not interested in an open kind of thing.”

At her news, he straightened and dropped the smile. Had he really not seen the news anywhere? “Who is he?” he asked, his tone sharp and caustic.

“She is no one you know,” she replied.

He dropped his shoulders and laughed. “He’s a woman?

No freaking way!” His continued laughter was an irritating, abrasive thing. “You? No o ense,” he said like people usually did before saying something o ensive, “but I never pegged you for the type to color outside the lines. You didn’t even let me watch lesbian por—”

Libby interrupted him with a raised hand. “Okay, don’t be crass.”

He grinned. “See?”

“Not letting you be a pervert about my relationship doesn’t make me a prude, Davis,” she warned.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. But won’t you please come with me tonight. Your girlfriend is invited too,” he said, looking down at his watch. “I’ve got sound check soon. Why don’t you come with me now and she can meet us?”

“My fiancée,” she corrected, “has plans tonight. I can’t ask her to break them because my ex showed up on a whim begging me to go to his rock concert.”

Davis smiled. “She has plans. Not both of you? That settles it, you’re coming and I’m not going to hear another word about it.” He crossed his arms like a little kid taking a stand.

Libby couldn’t stop herself from chuckling at the sight.

She’d forgotten he could be cute and playful. All she’d gotten was his aloof, disinterested side for so long she couldn’t remember anything else.

“I really can’t—”

“Before you say no,” he interrupted as if Libby hadn’t already said no several times. “Your song is the third one in the set. Just let me sing it to you and you can go. I promise if it doesn’t make you feel a little something . . . I won’t darken your doorstep again.”

With a sigh, Libby caved. “Fine, fine. Just stop asking me.”

Davis grinned the way he always did when he got his way.

“I had to park outside, just follow me.”

Despite the little voice inside her head telling her not to, Libby jumped in her car and followed.

C H A P T E R 2 1

SLIPPING THROUGH THE CROWDED RESTAURANT, Reagan followed the sound of women’s voices cresting over the roar of twenty other conversations. They were like sirens drawing her in, and for the first time, she was a little worried about crashing into the rocks. There was no doubt they were going to have questions

about

Libby,

and

she

wasn’t