I don’t want him to get sick of me.

He’d reluctantly gone, but then he’d called me at two a.m., complaining that he couldn’t sleep.

I wasn’t sleeping either.

And we had the most fun, sexy as hell phone sex I’d ever had in my life.

Yeah, I like him.

I drop my purchases on the ottoman in the center of my closet room and sigh happily. I love this room. Three walls are lined with clothes, separated by occasion; casual, work, formal. The fourth wall houses my handbags and shoes.

And in the center of the room is a long, plush sand-colored ottoman for dressing. Before I can begin putting my newest finds away, my phone rings.

The display reads simply, Nash.

I grin as I answer, “Hey there, ridiculously sexy rock star.”

“Hey. What are you up to?” His voice is warm and deep and smooth and I have to lower myself to the ottoman before my knees buckle.

God, I have it bad.

“I had to go shopping, so I’m putting some things away.”

“Shopping for anything special?” He asks.

“I got some new interview outfits and some new underwear.”

“Hmm… I definitely wanna see the underwear.”

I grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Do you have dinner plans tonight?” Why does he sound uncertain?

“No, what’s up?” I ask.

“Meg has invited us to have dinner with her and Will at their place.” He exhales deeply.

“You don’t want to go?” I ask.

“I’m fine with it, if you are.”

“Okay, I’m in.”

“Okay. I’ll pick you up at six.” He clears his throat and I hear voices in the background.

“What are you up to?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“I’m hanging out with a few of the guys. We’re looking at song choices for the new album and they’re being stupid.”

I laugh and cradle the phone between my ear and shoulder as I stand and begin hanging my new clothes.

“What are they doing?”

“Jake is substituting dirty words for the regular words in the songs. I swear these guys are ten years old.”

“You love them,” I murmur with a grin.

“They’re all crazy.” There is mumbling in the back ground and I hear someone start to play an acoustic guitar, and I wish I was there to listen. “I’m gonna go finish with these guys and I’ll see you at six.”

“It’s a date.” I glance down at the black panties in my hand and think about how far we’ve come since that horrible night in my kitchen.

“Good. And baby?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not sleeping alone tonight.”

He hangs up, leaving me with a wide grin and wet panties.

Thank God.

***

“You look fantastic,” Leo mutters and looks me up and down appreciatively, taking in my red sweater and black jeans. My red heels increase my height by four inches, and he’s still way taller than me.

“So do you.” And he does, in his faded blue jeans and black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing those hot tats on his forearms.

“Come on, Meg will kill us if we’re late, and if I come in, we may not make it there at all.”

He settles me in his car and pulls into traffic toward Will’s home.

“So, you bought interview clothes. I suppose that means you have an interview?” He raises an eyebrow at me and offers me half a smile.

“I do. Next week.” I clench my hands in my lap and pray that he doesn’t ask me where.

No such luck.

“Where?”

“In L.A.”

His head whips around to stare at me with his jaw dropped, and then he scowls deeply and turns back to the road, his knuckles going white on the steering wheel.

“Why L.A.?” He asks, his voice deceptively low.

“Because they offered.” I shrug and look out my window, not paying attention to the landscape.

“But you don’t want to move out of Seattle.”

“Leo, sometimes what we want and what we get are two different things.” I take a deep breath and frown. “What’s the big deal?”

“You shouldn’t have to settle.” He glares at me.

“I need a job.” I say the words slowly and clearly. “I’m going a bit crazy here, Leo. I need to work. I like to work. No one in Seattle is offering.”

“I’ll help you until you find something here.”

He sounds so sure, and I want to soften, just at the thought that he wants to help me, but that is absolutely not going to happen.

“I don’t need any help.”

“Samantha…”

“Leo, I’m not thinking about the L.A. job because that’s where you’re based out of, if that’s what makes you nervous. I may not even get the job, but they called, want to fly me there next week, and I’m going.”

“That’s what you think?”

“I just…”

“Sam, I just don’t want you to take a job that you don’t really want. There’s no reason for you to.”

I shake my head and rub my forehead with my fingertips. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Like I said, I might not get it. It’s good practice for the interview process.”