Wicked Innocence by Missy Johnson Page A

she did to every guy she came in contact with? She was a walking, talking wet dream. And that naivety made her all the more sexy. There was no bigger turn-off than a girl who knew she was hot.
    “I’m going to avoid answering that at the risk of saying something I shouldn’t,” I muttered. I focused on the can in my hand, willing the conversation to move away from how hot I thought she was.
    Until now, I’d done pretty well at hiding how attracted I was to her. Hell, I’d even managed to hide it from myself. Seeing her sitting opposite me with that pretty mahogany colored hair tied up in a messy bun, losing myself in her stunning emerald colored eyes…I was at risk of fucking everything up.
    She’s twenty-one—four years younger than you.
    You’re her manager.
    But the thing stopping me most from leaping forward and kissing those sexy, plump lips was how obviously fragile she was emotionally right now. I didn’t want to be the guy who fucked her up even more than she already was—and if anyone could do that, it would be me.
    I yawned and stretched my arms over my head. “At the risk of sounding old, I think I’m ready for bed.”
    She raised her eyebrows, her expression skeptical. “It’s barely eight o’clock.”
    “Call me old, whatever. But seriously, you try sleeping in one of those fucking bunks in the van. Especially with how loudly Kam snores. Just be grateful you have the room,” I muttered, getting to my feet.
    She giggled and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself. “Sleep tight, old man. I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave me a smile and walked over to the door.
    I watched her leave and then flicked the lock on the door.
    Fuck. What are you thinking, Sax? You need to stop this before it goes too far.
    When we were together, we chatted so easily. I knew how easily things could shift from friendship to complicated—especially with the thoughts that were going through my head. She was such a sweet girl. I’d hate myself if I ended up hurting her.

    My phone buzzed over by my bed. I walked over and picked it up and saw a message from Stace.
    Hope you don’t expect me to give this loveable mutt back .
    I laughed as I scrolled down to the photo of Broosky curled up in her lap. You could barely see her poking out from under him.
    Don’t get too attached. You’re not keeping my dog. Are you still coming to Vegas?
    I already knew the answer to that. Nothing would stop her from getting out there to see the Monkeys live. It was just a coincidence that we were going to be there the same week we were in town.
    Fuck yes. Do you know me at all?? See you Sunday big brother xx

Chapter Twelve
    Micah

    Lights flashed everywhere. I struggled to take it all in. Vegas was everything I imagined it would be. Even mid-week¸ there were people everywhere.
    We’d just finished our show in a hotel in the middle of the strip and the guys had deserted us in favor of getting drunk and doing God knows what else. Like most nights, Sax and I found ourselves alone, this time on the roof of the hotel.
    I reached for my bottle of water and looked out over the stunning skyline. The sheer number of people here was amazing. The show had been packed. It was by far the biggest crowd I’d sung to in my life, and as terrifying as it was, hearing that applause and cheering at the end had made it all worth it.
    “So, what do you actually do ?” I blushed as he raised his eyebrows at me. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant as the manager—what does that actually involve?” I asked.
    “I find shows for you guys to perform at. Like this. The whole point of this group of shows is to drum up more exposure for you guys. The more people who know about you, the better. That makes it easier for me to try and secure shows for you at festivals, or as openers for bigger bands.”
    “Like the LA music festival?” I asked.
    He nodded. “Exactly. I’m about ninety-five percent sure I’ll be able to get you guys on the