Finally, she lets out a sigh and passes the phone back to me. “The internet is a toxic cesspool. I’m so sorry.”
“I guess I should’ve expected some of it. It’s not like people weren’t going to find out who I am once the song came out.”
“Sure. But this really isn’t about you. All those haters don’t know you. This is about their unhealthy obsession with Dex.”
His name sends heat curling through my belly and into my cheeks. I glance away and take a sip of my smoothie, but Jordan has way too keen an eye for that.
“Speaking of . . . Is there something going on between you two? You didn’t message me after you left Velvet.” One of her sculpted hazel brows arches inquisitively.
For a moment, I consider skirting around the topic, but then I remember Michael saw Dex kiss me on the porch, and there’s no way he’d keep that from his wife, so she must know something.
“Kind of,” I say, still trying to avoid eye contact with her.
“Kind of? Nora, are you going to make me drag it out of you? Because I will.”
My gaze shifts to her, and her lips are puckered into a serious pout. Looking at the fire in her blue eyes, I imagine Michael can’t get away with anything.
“Okay . . . Yes.” Despite trying to stop it, I can’t help my lips curling up in the corners.
“What happened after you guys left the club?”
“Nothing, really. Dex dropped me off at home. Sebastian was drunk in the back seat.”
“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about that.” She wrinkles her nose again and takes a sip of her smoothie.
“I left my car at the studio that night, so Dex brought it by the next day. And then we spent the day together, and he went to one of my shows at the orchestra, and then . . .”
I have a flashback of sitting on his lap, tracing the swirls of ink adorning his skin, the taste of Sapporo on our lips. A shiver goes across my skin, and I just hope Jordan didn’t see it.
“And then?” She’s leaning forward in her chair, expression eager.
“We slept together.”
One hand comes up to cover her mouth, her eyes going wide. Then she laughs a little and sits back in her chair. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“I knew he was into you.”
“What? How?” Now I’m the one leaning forward, caught up in curiosity.
“I knew when I first saw him around you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, and he was more irritable than usual, like having to keep himself from pouncing on you was physically painful. It was so obvious.”
I look down, trying and failing to keep heat from rising once more into my cheeks. “I didn’t think so.”
“I’ve known Dex a long time. Michael and I have been together since high school, and LGC was already a thing when we first started dating.” Jordan shrugs. “You could say I watched Dex grow up, but that’d probably annoy him.” Her smile is quick, and she laughs before taking another sip of her smoothie. But then her expression goes serious. “I don’t know about this, Nora. You barely know me, I get that, but I do know him, and he’s not really boyfriend material.”
A wave of defensiveness crashes over me. Have I been that obvious in my desire for him? “What makes you think I want him to be my boyfriend?”
That same hazel brow arches. “Something tells me you’re not the type to sleep around with rock stars. Am I wrong?”
For the second time, I wonder if I should fib and act like it’s really not a big deal, but Jordan’s piercing gaze would see right through me.
I drop my head. “No . . . You’re not wrong.”
“That’s what I thought.” Her smirk is playful. “Seriously though. When I warned you before, I meant it. Dex has commitment issues. I’ve never seen him hold down a relationship longer than a few months, and even those are rare.”
The reminder has my stomach turning uncomfortably. I haven’t forgotten what she and Alisha said while helping me get ready for our night out.
Don’t even go there with him.
Dex is a fuckboy.
I’m not sure what to say, so it’s a relief when my phone chimes with a text message, giving me something to look at besides Jordan’s serious blue eyes. When I pick up the phone, my heart leaps.
It’s from Dex.
I feel Jordan’s gaze on me as I quickly tap the screen and the message pops up.
It’s a picture of a PlayStation controller with Legend of Volthorn on the huge TV in the background. Beneath the image are four words that make my pulse thunder.
Miss you, Little Monster.
“Is that from him?” Jordan asks, leaning forward.
Nodding, I turn the phone around so she can see the image and message underneath.
“ ‘Little Monster?’ Is that what he calls you?”
