The Opposite Of Right (Bad Decisions Trilogy #1) Read Free

was her chance to take control of her life and move it in a different direction. Yeah, if only for a few hours, whatever. She was on a roll. First a hot kiss, now a new, if temporary job. This whole bad-decisions experiment was working out waaaaay better than planned.
    Kylie patted Cam on his magnificent chest. “Can’t you see that Deondra won’t go anywhere until you hit the stage? I’ll take her to the door and stay with her until the ambulance comes. Then I’ll staff the promo table.”
    Cam gave his assent with a sharp nod. Then he kissed Deondra on the top of her curly head. “Text me immediately if you’re really going into surgery.”
    The piercing wail of sirens came through the walls. “At this rate, I figure they’ll wheel me in right after your first set.”
    Kylie grabbed the phone dangling from Deondra’s limp hand. “Here. I’ll input my cell number. You can text me with updates, and I’ll pass them along to Cam as soon as the show’s over.”
    Two steps down the hall, Cam spun back around on his heel. “Hey—is your sister okay now?”
    Deondra stopped biting her lower lip long enough to flash a quick smile. “Yeah. So I’ll be fine.”
    “Make sure of it.”
    As he swaggered off, Kylie couldn’t help but notice the way his jeans…well, her mouth just went dry at the up close and personal view of his ass and those long legs. They’d felt tightly muscled, even through the thick denim, when she’d wrapped her leg around them. Kylie pulled in a deep breath.
    “You’re not some crazed stalker, are you?” Deondra asked as they moved at a snail’s pace down the hallway and back out into the main club.
    “No. God, no.” She didn’t want the other woman to worry for even a second about leaving her in charge. “I mean, you’d have to be blind and deaf not to lust after Cam Watson at least a little. But I don’t even follow him on Twitter.”
    “Probably good. Seeing as how I write all the band’s tweets.”
    Kylie looked at the glass-encased posters flanking the entrance. They were promo shots from the band’s last big album, before Cam had cut his hair. Amazing how different—and ten times hotter—Cam looked now without the long locks. She decided to put Deondra’s mind permanently at ease with a confession. “I didn’t even know who I was kissing. I was just trying to do something…different. Something very, very wrong.”
    “Ha! I like that. Nobody’s ever said that swapping spit with Cam was wrong. I’m gonna tease him about that for a long time.”
    Except that Kylie was quite certain that kissing Cam—accidentally on purpose—was the most right thing she’d ever done.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    Cam clapped Jake McQuinn on the shoulder as they walked backstage. “You rocked tonight.”
    A quick shake sent sweat flying from Jake’s brow. It’d been hot under those damn spots. “Right back at ya.”
    It was the same thing they’d said to each other at the end of every single concert. Kind of an after-the-fact good-luck charm. Cam, as superstitious as every other performer, wouldn’t ever skip saying it. But some nights he meant it more. This was one of those nights. Riptide’s sound was gelling again. The capacity crowd had stayed on their feet the whole time. It beat back Cam’s constant worry about their new album. By about a tenth of a percent.
    He whipped the red bandanna off the forehead of their drummer to complete the post-show routine. “Your sticks were slick, Jones.”
    “Somebody has to do the real work in this group. Get the women all riled up and their panties soaked.”
    Jake snatched the drumsticks out of his back pocket. Gave a quick rat-a-tat-tat on the drummer’s arm. “You’re a giver, Jones. No doubt about it.”
    “I’m hoping to give it to that blonde who was over by the speaker. Did you see her?”
    “Nah.” Cam had kept his eyes glued to the back of the club. Every once in a while, the had door opened.