Rock Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #3) by Crystal Kaswell Read Free Book Online Page A

promise."
    "I won't tell him. We're friends. Any secret of yours is just between us. Same goes for any secret of mine."
    "Okay."
    His shoulder presses against mine. He's warm.
    "I live in an apartment in Berkley. A little studio in a six unit building. Mom didn't take me changing my major to photography too well. I moved out before she had the chance to kick me out. The place is a great deal and about all I can afford. I don't really have a choice about moving. Not without some serious cash."
    He stares back at me. "I get that."
    "My ex-boyfriend showed up as my new next door neighbor. Convinced my landlord that he's a nice, dependable guy I guess."
    "He hurt you?"
    "Someone always gets hurt when a relationship ends."
    "He hit you?"
    I can’t answer that. "I don't want to be around him. That's all."
    "Yeah, sure."
    His fingertips brush my wrist. The touch is soft and delicate. How can someone who comes in like a God damn wrecking ball have such a delicate touch?
    I say nothing. He responds with silence. We lean against the car, him looking at me, me trying hard not to notice how he's staring.
    Minutes pass. My heartbeat, my breath—both slow to something normal. Until the only thing mixing me up is how badly I want the comfort of Tom's arm around me again.
    I step sideways, adjust my clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.
    "You have a picture or something?" Tom asks. "For our head of security. I'll make sure he keeps it from Drew."
    I nod. There are lots of pictures of him online, from his college football days. I pick the most recent one.
    "Thanks." Tom borrows my phone for a minute then hands it back. "It's okay. I'll make sure he's not around."
    "It's nothing."
    "Yeah. Of course."
    I nod. Of course it's nothing. But I'm not selling that story. Not even a little bit.
    Tom studies me. He must decide I'm okay, because the serious look drops off his face.
    He slides his arm around my waist. "You're probably caffeine deprived. Let's get a coffee or something."
    ***
    A fter an almond milk latte and a one-sided conversation about horror movies, I am over-caffeinated and sufficiently distracted. It's clear why Tom runs around like a monkey on cocaine. The man drinks an ungodly amount of iced coffee.
    His fingertips skim my palm. He's back to his usual bouncy self. No cracks, no softness, no signs he's ever been hurt.
    He looks me in the eyes. "You feeling properly energized?"
    "Yeah."
    "Good. I have an idea. Want to indulge me?"
    "Depends on what your idea is."
    "The tabloids need to know about my new fuck buddy," he says.
    I'm not following. "You don't have a fuck buddy."
    "Sure I do." He nods to me. "She's a mystery girl with an edgy hairstyle and great taste in men."
    He means me. Okay. This might work.
    "You're game?" He asks.
    Maybe. I nod anyway.
    "Then let's take a picture of us fucking."

CHAPTER EIGHT
    L et's take a picture of us fucking .
    Has breathing always been this difficult?
    "The hair really does match your cheeks," Tom says.
    "Are you out of your damn mind?"
    "And you think I would be fuck buddies with someone so shy." Tom shakes his head. He points to the department store across from us. "We're going to take a picture in that dressing room and you're going to leak it to a celeb news site."
    "We're going to take a picture of us fucking in that dressing room?" I blink way more than any person should. "You don't mean..."
    "Of course I don't mean... We'll cheat it. Don't tell me you don't know how to cheat a shot."
    My body responds with gusto. Heart racing, heat building between my legs. It takes my head a few moments to catch up. The assignment is unorthodox, but I can do it. "What if Drew sees it?"
    "He won't."
    "You sure about that?"
    "If you even say the words TMZ around Drew, he glares at you and threatens to hit someone." Tom nods. "If he does see it, I'll explain what we're doing. He won't like it, but fuck him. You want to spend your life making decisions because you're worried your