Random on Tour: Los Angeles (Random Series #7) Read Online Free PDF Page A

other topic. He was not my type. He was not the kind of guy I dated...before.
    Seven years and two months ago.
    So why was I bothering? What was it about him that made me—
    Lips. Warm, soft, but in control and commanding. Hands around my waist, tugging on my belt loops, pulling my pelvis against his. The rub of his jeans rivets against the pad of my thumb. He was kissing me. Tyler was kissing me. 
    I pulled my hands up and pressed them flat against his chest, ready to push hard.
    Instead, I pushed hard with my lips. My hands slipped up around his neck and pulled.
    Tight.
    He tasted so foreign, so forbidden, like something you know you shouldn’t sample but you can’t help yourself. Recriminations and warnings inside my head faded into a nothingness replaced by pure sensation, by the split certainty that I was violating every single norm about how I understood myself while enjoying every second of it. 
    “You,” he said in a low, deep voice, his breath coming out in little pants, his cheek scraping against my jaw, “are a pain in the ass.” 
    And with that he released me and walked away, leaving me wet, aroused, and ready to kill him.
    But not stupid enough to follow. What the hell was I doing? At least this time, he kissed me . What did that mean? 
    “You okay?” Liam’s voice at my side made me jump. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, as if I could hide Tyler’s kiss.
    “Yes,” I whispered.
    “You don’t look okay,” he said, glaring down the hallway where Tyler had just departed. “Did Frown do something to you?”
    Oh, yes he did.
    “Um, no,” I said, sighing and running my hand through my hair. “It’s cool. I just needed to clear up a few things with him.”
    Liam has these eyes that make you think you’re on the beach in Nantucket when you look at him. Incisive and perceptive, those eyes took me in.
    He opened his mouth to say something, then looked at Charlotte. An unreadable look passed between them, and he took off down the hallway, following Tyler.
    I stayed put.
    I had to.
    My legs wouldn’t move.

Chapter Two
    Tyler
    For the record, I was not the one found hanging out of a window, naked, with a chicken and a gerbil clinging to my ass. But I was the person they called to fix that mess. Two days later I went home to help see my dad off to prison.
    “Too late,” Johnny taunted as I walked in the apartment, my brain scrambled from being on seven different semi trucks over two and a half days. Being broke meant I couldn’t afford to fly. Hitching a ride was cheap but not easy.
    Nothing’s easy when you’re broke.
    “Too late for what?” I asked. My stomach growled. I felt like a giant grease ball. Shower first. Food second. Bed third.
    I dumped my backpack, my bass and my acoustic guitar on the floor near the door and stretched. My palms could rest flat on the yellowed ceiling when I did that. My calves screamed and my triceps burned from the relief of blood flow.
    I’d see Dad in the morning. I guessed he was at Shorty’s, the bar around the corner where he hung out sometimes. Two months ago he’d called and I’d bailed him out. The damn idiot did it again last week, only this time I couldn’t bail him out. No money. He got someone to get him out, but he’d violated the terms of some court agreement and now he was going back in. The plan was to take him in tomorrow. 
    “He turned himself in.” Johnny walked past me, his body twitching, as he went into the kitchen and flung open the fridge door. A stench worse than the alley behind most of my bar gigs hit me like a wall of puke. Half-opened takeout containers filled the fridge shelves.
    He picked one and tossed the styrofoam thing into a microwave, pressed some buttons and picked at a scab on his arm.
    “What?” I snapped. He turned and stared me down with eyes like sandpaper. 
    Johnny looked like our mom. Tall and lean, all knees and elbows. Pale skin with veins hiding under tissue paper. His eyes were a pale