Men of Steel

They say never judge a book by its cover, but as an avid reader of "those kinds of books" and a member of my mom’s book club, it’s hard not to. I mean, who can blame me for lusting after a hot, tattooed, pierced, bad boy with milk chocolate eyes and all that amazing hair.

He said no more than three hookups. She only needed one.

Coming home from Italy should’ve been a reset, but my brothers went soft. They broke The Bro Code. Not the frat-boy kind. I’m talking Forever Steel rules: No attachments. No falling. No excuses. They needed to be reminded that kitties were to be pet, not possessed. Me? I’ve still got my priorities straight. Sex, ink, and zero strings. At least I did—until she walked into my tattoo shop with a southern drawl, soft curves, and a smile sweet enough to make a sinner beg. And this kittie, she has claws.

My brothers sold out. Fell in love. Settled down. Whatever. That’s not my story. I’m 100% Forever Steel, and music is my everything. I’ll write it, play it, and produce it my way—no labels, no rules, no emotional distractions. But then Momma Joe went rogue and hired a business assistant without asking me. I pick my battles, and this wasn’t gonna be one of them. She may think hiring the female version of a much younger Shaun White, would hold me back, but she’s wrong.