Love Resolution (Black Cat Records series) by Michelle Mankin

leaned back casually against the wall. Giggle Girl stood with her arms entwined around the man’s neck, facing away from Avery. The man seemed to be staring in her direction. White teeth flashed in his shadowed face.
    “I can stick around after the show, Bullet.” Giggle Girl purred, rubbing her lower body against him. “If you give me a key, I’ll wait for you in your room.”
    “No thanks, Holly,” Bullet’s deep male voice intoned. “You know how I roll. I’m a no strings kinda guy.” He paused. “Unless we’re playing rough.”
    Holly’s answering giggle was muffled into his chest and her hands no longer visible. Where they’d moved to Avery couldn’t tell and did not want to know.
    The end of a cigarette glowed as Bullet took a drag. It illuminated a pair of light colored eyes gleaming beneath a slash of dark brows. His eyes met hers and he raised one brow. She swiveled away, cheeks burning, embarrassed to have been drawn into their little tableau.
    “Bullet,” an irritated male voice shouted from the stage. “Come on, man. Put your dick back in your pants and get on out here.”
    “I’m coming,” Bullet replied wryly.
    Avery heard the unmistakable sound of wet kissing behind her, followed by Holly moaning. Shit . Could this possibly be any more awkward? She began to plot her escape.
    “Hey,” Bullet’s low voice suddenly came from right behind her.
    She pivoted around, catching a glimpse of Holly scooting out the door behind him.
    His gaze traveled the length of her several times as he blatantly checked her out. The light there allowed Avery her first detailed view of him.
    Whoa. Bullet was an extremely good looking guy. Scale of one to ten, too high to rank. Light brown hair in a faux hawk over darker brown brows with just the right amount of thickness and arch to highlight an arresting pair of greyish green eyes.
    Silence stretched out between them. She watched the cigarette move from his mouth to his hand and then his lips slowly turn up into a sardonic smile. “See anything you like?”
    “Not really,” she remarked casually.
    “I’m thinking that’s not true,” he said, taking a step closer.
    She took a reflexive step back.
    He closed the distance, his eyes boring intently into hers.
    Her stomach fluttered.
    Abruptly, he leaned in.
    Her breath caught, a trail of cigarette smoke rising to sting her eyes.
    “Excuse me.” He straightened holding the maple top she’d been eyeing earlier. His brow lifted, the cigarette clinging to the side of his mouth as he spoke. “Need my guitar.” He studied her face again. “I noticed you checking this out when I was with Holly. You play?”
    She laughed. “A little.”
    He offered her the guitar.
    She took it running her hands reverentially over the finely made instrument. “It’s a custom, isn’t it?”
    “It actually belonged to Slash. It’s the one he used at the Guns ‘n Roses concert they did at the Ritz in eighty-eight.”
    “Holy crap!” She handed it back very carefully.
    “It was a gift.”
    “Sweet gift.” She smiled.
    Bullet stared at her mouth.
    She broke into a cold sweat.
    “You look kinda familiar, Red.” He took a moment to clip on the guitar with the strap that had been dangling over one shoulder. “I wouldn’t forget hair like yours,” he observed, reaching out brazenly and rubbing a strand of it between two fingers.
    Avery’s mouth went dry. She swallowed nervously.
    “You one of BS’s guitar techs?”
    She raised a brow. “Not exactly.”
    “Hey, Bryan.” A slender guy with long caramel hued hair suddenly appeared. He had a black scarf tied around his forehead. His dark eyes flicked to her. “Fuck me if it ain’t Avery Jones. They told us Brutal Strength was still in Vancouver.”
    “Nope.” She shook her head, feeling Bryan’s speculative gaze resting on her. “We got in a couple of hours ago.”
    “Cool.” He stuck out his hand. “Warren Jinkins, lead singer of Tempest. Everyone calls me