Chapter One

A vision of pure horror scrambled down the stairs wearing a heavy clay face mask, a midriff T-shirt, and a pink lacy thong. Her long red hair remained frizzed on one side while straightened on the other. Shrieking like a banshee, she tripped over the last stair, fell forward, bounced off the wall, regained her balance and lunged for the phone in Jordan’s lap. The laptop fell next, saved by Jordan’s challenged reflexes while he attempted to ease the pain of his sister’s merciless dive.

“Jesus Christ, Rebecca, what the hell are you doing?”

She ignored his high-pitched inquiry and frantically dialed numbers. Faced with a rear end view, and seeing more of Bec than he ever needed to, Jordan attempted to blank out the sight from his mind before it etched into his memory banks.

She paced the lounge room in barely-there knickers, continually dialing, hanging up, and dialing again. Occasionally, her frenzy partnered with cursing, stamping feet, and frustrated screams. After a few minutes of this behavior, Jordan raised his eyes from the screen and took a chance at needing extensive therapy.

From within the tortured howls and cussing, Bec Braxton squealed like a piglet. “Shh! Oh my God, it’s ringing!”

“Did I say anything?”

She frantically waved a hand with five hot pink painted nails. “Stop typing! Shh!”

Somebody finally answered and the squealing escalated into a scream loud enough to wake the dead of centuries ago. Her hand clamped to her forehead, she was trembling and trying to give her name in between moments of excited yelling and foot stomping. The call ended with Bec in a teary quivering mess. She disappeared up the stairs without another word.

Jordan peered into the furry orange face of the abnormally large cat beside him. “And that, Furball, is why I’m gay!”

Relative peace followed during the next hour. When Bec reappeared she’d changed appropriately, the clay mask had been washed clean, and her hair was in a braid. Rather than sit in one of the armchairs, she unceremoniously booted Furball off the sofa and sat with a wide smile. “You’ll never guess what’s happened!”

His blue eyes remained on the web page in front of him. “Probably not, no.”

She sidled in closer. “What have I wanted more than anything else in the whole world?”

“Straight hair?”

Grabbing the laptop, she closed it and set it aside.

He raised an eyebrow. “I was working.”

“The most amazing thing that could’ve ever happened has happened, the least you could do is listen to me! What I have wanted more than anything else in the world?”

Jordan shrugged, twined his fingers, lifted his arms over his head and stretched. “Get it over with so I can get back to work.”

When his arms lowered down to his lap, she grabbed his hand in hers. “Tyler Curtis!”

His eyes rolled. “What about him?”

“I won two tickets to his concert tomorrow night.” When he reached for the laptop she slapped his hand away from it. “For God sake, Jordy, this is a defining moment in my life!” Her hand grasped his chin and turned his face to look her in the eye. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. “Not any old tickets, Jordan. Front row at Wembley Stadium! And…invites to the wrap party! Do you know what this means? It means I’m going to shag Tyler.”

There elapsed a brief silence while they stared at one another, her expression deadly serious together with a grave nod as though announcing world peace.

“Yes. Yes, Jordy. I know you can’t believe it but it’s the truth. Finally, after all this time, I’m going to meet Tyler. We’re going to have hot sex tomorrow night. In his hotel room, in his bed, all night.”

Jordan scratched his head and frowned. “Does Curtis know about this?”

Continued in First Section