Free Bad Beats: A Rock-Star Step-Brother Romance by C.L. Riley Page B

current hour.
    “Mom? Are you all right?”
    Misty uses the interruption to maneuver off me and proceeds to fill her nose with more from our shrinking powder pile.
    I listen while my mom explains how her latest lover proposed. Apparently, she was so excited she couldn’t wait to call. They intend to get married in the next few months, and she wants to schedule a meet-my-latest-stepfather dinner date.
    We’ve been down this same road already.
    More accurately, she’s been down the aisle, doing the wedding march, three times prior.
    “You’ll have a stepsister too,” she practically squeals. “I can’t wait for us to spend time together. I know he’s the one. I feel it, Sean. This is it.”
    My mom is the only one who still calls me Sean and gets away with it. She’s also the only one who can spew bullshit and avoid my BS-busting tactics. I’ve never been shy about voicing my opinions, especially when my BS-meter detects sizable amounts of crap.
    I chuckle. I’m so fucking high my brain is overflowing with its own BS right now.
    “No Mom! I’m not laughing at you. I’ve had a little too much to drink. You know how it is,” I lie. There’s no way I’ll ever admit my drug use to her.
    Pacified by my explanation, she shares some more family gossip and we end the call with me agreeing to meet the latest groom-to-be and my future step-sister as soon as I’m back on US soil. The guy lives in Portland, Oregon, Cadie O’Shea’s hometown. How convenient. The meeting will provide a good reason to drop in on Cadie.
    “Shag, baby. Want another line? And I’m ready to ride. I’ve waited so long for…”
    I tug the condom off my shrinking cock and toss it into the nearest trash basket.
    The phone call provided just enough of a pause for my sanity to return. Shagging my PA was, is, and always will be a bad idea.
    “Misty, I got carried away. I can’t fuck you. You work for me. Things are already complicated enough. If you wanna suck my dick, I won’t complain, but…”
    “Oh, fuck off, why don’t you? You fuck anything with a cunt, but when it comes to me, you suddenly have morals. You’ve been acting different lately. It’s that fat cow, isn’t it.”
    Okay. Now she’s pissing me off. “Do you value your job?” I don’t give her time to answer. “Do I pay you well? I think we both know the answer to that. I pay you way more than you’re worth.”
    “Your point?” She glares at me, the cocaine giving her a careless sense of confidence.
    “I have several points. Why don’t I remind you of a few?” I’m on a roll now.  “It would be wise to remember my word is law. You work for me. Not the record company. Not the band. Me. I’m done spending time with you like this. If you want to keep your job and the salary you seem to like spending, you need to fucking act like my PA not some sick version of a girlfriend. I don’t do girlfriends. Not now. Not ever.”
    “Shag?” Cadie’s soft voice penetrates the unwanted memory.
    I shake my head, dislodging the final image of Misty slamming the door behind her, and instead allow Cadie’s presence to anchor me.
    “Sorry, I was just thinking. That’s some heavy stuff. I’m sorry you lost your friends. I can see why you’re so protective and cautious.”
    She shrugs, her gaze darting towards the pool where Robin is screeching as some guy dunks her without mercy. Roxie is in the middle of her own showdown.
    “No swimming and water fights for you, huh?” I am eager to change the subject to something less intense and bury last night’s mistakes for good.
    “It’s not because I don’t enjoy the water. The sun and I just don’t get along. I’m surprised you didn’t notice that my skin is dangerously close to matching my hair color. And the burn happened in about thirty minutes,” she laughs, taking the bait for lighter conversation. “Why else would I be hiding here when the action is over there?”
    Her smile does something to me, and I want to