Picture Perfect

really difficult."
    Giving me a surprised look he replied, "You weren't whining Tess. You were being honest. We don't get enough of that. Real life went on without us for the last decade, and we wound up being surrounded by people who enabled us and agreed with everything we said, even if we were wrong. Besides, you're right. The road sucks. Never going home sucks. Never having any kind of real connection sucks. We all just want to move on."
    He called me Tess. I heard every word he said, but what stood out the most was that he called me Tess. I've never allowed anyone to abbreviate my name, but for some reason I liked that he did it. It seemed intimate, like it was something between us. I knew that it was silly of me to think that way, knew that I was just being fanciful.
    The rest of the people in the house disappeared from my mind as I continued talking to Flynn. He was so easy to talk to, and our conversation flowed naturally. Still, the sexual tension between us was right there. If anything, talking to him was attracting me to him more.
    I startled when Pam the party planner interrupted us to let Flynn know that everyone had gone, and the wait staff was leaving as well. Jesus! We talked for so long that everyone left. Worse, I didn't even notice that people were leaving. It was like the previous two hours passed in a Flynn bubble. I was embarrassed thinking that my driver probably thought I was a total slut, in here doing the groupie grab ass.
    Jumping up from the miserably uncomfortable couch, I smoothed my skirt down. "I'm so sorry I monopolized your time like that Flynn. I'm going to go. I'll see you tomorrow at the meeting."
    When I went to walk around him, he stopped me with a touch to my knee that I felt everywhere. Standing up, he put his hand on my shoulder. "Tess, you didn't monopolize my time. If anything, I monopolized yours. I'm sorry. I'll take you back to the hotel now."
    That gave me pause. What did he mean that HE would take me back to the hotel? "What happened to my driver?"
    He looked embarrassed, which was my first clue that he'd let him go. "I told him to go hours ago. I'd always intended to be the one to drive you back."
    There were a million and one things I could have said at that moment. I could have asked a bunch of inane questions, but the truth was that I already knew the answers. He felt the pull that I did, and he wanted to spend time with me. The teenage version of me would have been on the floor in front of him genuflecting, but the adult version of me was skittish.
    It was as he walked me through the living room and into the kitchen toward a door that clearly led to the garage that I realized that the cold and unfriendly house belonged to him. The words were out of my mouth before I could hold them back. "Dear lord Flynn, this is your house?"
    Halting his steps, he turned to study me as he nodded. "Yeah… I bought it when we hit it big. What do you think?"
    Looking around, I tried to think of something positive to say. Unfortunately, the kitchen was as ridiculous as the living room. The cabinets were gray and accented with steel, and there was literally nothing comforting or inviting in the entire room. I assumed that the wait staff must have just cleaned it, but it was so horribly unwelcoming and sterile that I couldn't imagine a few dirty plates would have made it more home like. Turning to him, I said the only honest thing I could.
    "It's big."

Chapter Seven

    She hated the house.
    It was alarming how relieved I was to know that. Tessa was the first person I'd met in years that wasn't bullshitting me just to get closer, and I liked it. I liked it a lot. I was starting to wonder if I'd had even one authentic moment in the last decade that wasn't with my family, my band mates or our manager.
    Delighted with her honesty and the feelings it evoked, I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Tess, that's classic. I hate this house. Every girl I've ever brought here has gone on and on about how stunning it is, and it's the biggest fucking turn off. Buying this house was just one more thing that I did when I got money that was ridiculous. I was twenty and I thought it would be a great bachelor pad. I made the mistake of hiring the world's tackiest decorator and she just made it worse. I'm done here. I love the area though, so I’m thinking that I’m going to have the house demoed to have something built from scratch. Something homey that doesn't give me the chills when I walk in. My manager