This time I tried to feel the music as I played, but it didn’t come as easily for me as it did for him. The truth was, I was still too distracted from picturing all the things I wanted to do to him. It was like avoiding Jared had only made my desire for him increase, and now that we were alone—and now that I knew what he looked like without any clothes on—I found it even harder to resist him.

“That was better,” he said. “But I can tell you’re still holding back.”

No kidding. If I was in this room with Jared for one more second, I might not be able to stop from touching him. Where was Hector? Shouldn’t he be back from the gym by now?

“This isn’t working,” I said. “Maybe we can try again tomorrow.” Tomorrow, when the other guys were here, too, and I could focus on something other than being alone in a hotel room with the hottest guy I’d ever met.

“Hang on, I have another idea.”

I sighed. “I don’t know…”

“Let’s try playing something together, something just for fun.”

“Like what?”

“Do you know this one?” he asked and then started up “Blitzkrieg Bop” by The Ramones. It was one of those songs most rock guitarists learned since it was simple but a lot of fun to play. I reluctantly joined in when the chords repeated again. When he got to the chorus, I sang along too, and he grinned at me.

As the song went on, I loosened up and let myself get into the music with him, tapping my foot to the beat. We jammed on our guitars and grew louder and more ridiculous, not caring if the people in the rooms next to us complained. It was the kind of song you could easily be silly and over the top with, and by the end, we were bouncing around and belting out the words like we were drunk.

When it ended, I fell back on the bed and laughed, my pulse racing. Playing with Jared like this, banging on our guitars and singing at the top of our lungs without caring what we sounded like, it was different from playing alone or with the band or even in front of Julie and Carla. With one song, Jared had reminded me why I loved playing guitar in the first place.

He crashed on the bed next to me, and we stared at the ceiling as we caught our breath. After a minute, he propped himself up on one arm to look at me. “I’m impressed you could sing all the words to that one. Who knew piano player Maddie had this hidden punk rocker inside her?”

“No one. Before I joined the band, guitar was a secret, a guilty pleasure. Something I only did when I was alone in my room.”