The physical connection between Pasha, Mia Malone's bodyguard, and Alyssa, a backup dancer, is almost instant. Can they overcome their tragic pasts to find happiness together?
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Alyssa pressed the phone tighter to her ear and suppressed a sigh. The hard plastic of the toilet seat cover was making her bum numb. The bathroom on the bus was cramped, but it was one of the few places she could have guaranteed privacy.
Bankruptcy.
She listened to the financial woman drone on for a while longer before she decided to interrupt again, even though she already knew the answer. Frustration bubbled over. "But I didn't rack up all that debt on my credit card. My ex-boyfriend did. There should be some way I can make him pay. Or just not pay at all. Or something."
"You'd need to consult a lawyer." The financial advisor her sister Olivia had suggested sounded sympathetic. "I would imagine you'd have to take him to court."
Except he'd grabbed the money and run. Or rather, he'd taken a shit load of products he'd purchased off various websites and disappeared. She'd gone to visit her sister for two weeks and had come back to an empty house and a five-digit credit card debt. She'd been a fool. She could see that now.
When he'd suggested getting a joint credit card, she'd agreed because it had felt like a commitment. He was committing to something long-term with her. Not just the month-to-month rent but a future. What she hadn't realized was how easily he could make her future a living hell. In the two years they'd been together, she'd thought she'd found a winner. Sure, he'd cheated on her a few times, but no guy was perfect. From her experience, with the right motivation, every man struggled to keep his dick in his pants. She'd proven it again last night with Pasha.
Pasha.
So stoic and strong, and just like all the other men. Stick a hand down his pants, whisper in his ear, and it was game over. The little head won out over the big one every single time.
"The problem," Alyssa said, rubbing her forehead, "is that he seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth. No trace of him."
"Well," the woman said. "Perhaps hire a private investigator to track him down? I'm no expert on that route, to be honest. Looking at your finances, you're barely keeping your head above water with the credit card debt pulling you under."
Mia Malone and this tour were the only reasons she was still treading water. They'd gotten along well on her Blind Faith tour, so when Alyssa had realized her boyfriend had fucked her, and not in the good way, she'd texted Mia begging for a job on this tour. If she'd had to ask Laura, she'd have been screwed. Timing was everything, and with Laura gone, Mia had softened to other people's crisis, particularly women being done wrong by men. When Mia had called her and Alyssa had relayed her sob story—all true—she'd been offered a job with the Mending Hearts Tour.
Sleeping with Pasha at the club last night had been stupid. Mia's only sticky requirement in her dancers' contracts was a non-fraternization clause. When Alyssa had signed on the dotted line, she'd never considered the clause would be a problem. Mia hired mostly women. Who would Alyssa want to sleep with?
