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thought hits. “Wait, is that why you’re looking for the girl? Taking her back for a hot night with the equally hot Jax Lewis?”
    He clutches his chest. “You think the worst of me.”
    “Think? You were putting on quite a show when I saw you before.”
    Jax grazes his teeth over his bottom lip, his perfect brow creasing. “Not taking her back, no. No point.”
    “Why? Did she say no?”
    Shaking hair from his face, Jax drags his chair closer to me. “I’m too drunk.” Was that supposed to be a whisper? Because the volume was enough to elicit another laugh from the couple nearby.
    “Too drunk?” I ask and he gives me a lopsided smile. “Ah, I get it! Do you mean you’re too drunk to come up with the goods?” I snort in amusement. “Imagine the story: ‘ My night of passion with Jax Lewis .’” I make the headline in the air with my hand. “That would be a short article. Not very flattering either.”
    My humour sails over his head. “Are you staying with Bryn for long?” he asks.
    “The whole tour.”
    Jax rubs his nose. “Shit.”
    “Pardon?”
    “You’re distracting.” He sighs. “You’re beautiful.”
    “Oh, dear.” I shake my head at him. “I think you should call a cab and go sleep this off.”
    “But you are and I want to… and I can’t ‘cause you’re his sister.”
    I slide my chair back. “Wrong. You can’t because I don’t sleep with guys like you.”
    Weirdest thing. Jax looks shocked. “Like me? But I’m a rock star.”
    “Omigod, you’re hilarious!”
    “What?”
    This guy is genuinely confused why I wouldn’t throw myself naked at him. “I don’t want to have sex with you. Ever. So keep that in your pretty little head.”
    “Huh.” Jax sits back again. “But you think I’m hot.”
    “Jesus, Jax, give it a rest.”
    “I saw how you looked at me when we met. I know when girls want me. Plenty do, you know.”
    I splutter. “You’re attractive, yes, but I don’t ‘want’ you.”
    Slumped in his seat still, Jax looks up at the sky. “I’m a rock star.”
    “Apparently, so you keep telling me.”
    “Yeah, but it’s fucking weird, right? Like, six months ago I was a wannabe rock star. Didn’t like him much but he’s okay, I s’pose. I mean, without him I wouldn’t be here.”
    “Didn’t like who?”
    “Jem Jones. Stole my girl.”
    I straighten with interest. “Your girl? Ruby? Were you together?”
    “No, but should’ve been.” He pauses. “I’m over her now. We’d never work.”
    “It certainly looked like you were half an hour ago.”
    The conversation lulls and Jax slips further in his chair, head nodding to one side, eyes closed.
    “Jax, you need to leave before you pass out.” I poke him in the stomach, not surprised by how solid his abs are.
    Jax blinks back to his inebriated consciousness, steadies himself on the table, and stands. This guy is a hilarious drunk, swaying slightly as he grips the back of the chair. Scared he’s about to collapse, I stand too.
    He turns his drunken eyes to me again. “You’re beautiful, Tegan why-the-Hell-did-you-have-to-be Hughes.”
    “You’re drunk.”
    “But in the morning I’ll be sober and you’ll… Wait. How does that thing go again?”
    “What thing?”
    “The thing the guy said. Remember?”
    With no clue what he’s saying, I indicate the door. “Let’s go.”
    Unsteadily, Jax heads across the balcony with me. “I’m a rock star,” he repeats.
    “Yes, Jax, you’re a rock star.”
    A slow grin spreads across his face as he stops and throws his arms in the air. “I’m a fucking rock star!” The movement destabilises Jax and he trips sideways; missing the chair, he attempts to steady himself on.
    The drunk rock star falls to the floor and laughs, and lies back and stares at the sky.
    “I think I need to find somebody to take you back to the hotel.”
    Jax doesn’t respond, and I walk away laughing to myself. I’ll find somebody else to sort him out, my night isn’t