Taylor Marsten looks like a guy. How was I supposed to know there was a woman hiding beneath her baseball hat and baggy clothes? I piss off the stubborn roadie one time, and she starts a prank war. Back and forth we go using public humiliation as a weapon. Our situation turns complicated when I find myself searching her out. I want to piss her off just to receive retaliation. I get off on her attention. Our prank war isn’t a war at all. It’s foreplay. Ethan Crow is an idiot. He insults the way I look, demands I fill his bed with willing groupies, and threatens to have me fired from the tour. He thinks because I’m only eighteen I’ll crumble under his rock star authority, but he ticked off the wrong roadie. What starts as a battle feels more like a dance, and with thousands of women within Ethan’s reach, he only reaches for me. Are his feelings for me genuine, or has he managed to pull off the cruelest prank of them all?