Lie to Me

Lee Piper

Copyright 2019 by Lee Piper

Kindle Edition

All rights reserved.

Editor: Olivia Ventura

Hot Tree Editing

www.hottreeediting.com

Cover Design: Clarise Tan

CT Cover Creations

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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

For my husband, who is yet to file for divorce. I’m a very lucky woman.

Also by Lee Piper

Cruel Desires Series

Deviant Sin

Cruel Saint

Bad Angel

Vicious Storm

Rock Me Series

Lie to Me

End of Me

Sing to Me

Song for Me

Bad for Me

All of Me

Mondez Series

Rock My World

Rock My Body

About This Book

Shiloh

He’s back. Tattooed rock star, Reid Tate, waltzes into my life like he has a right to be there. His filthy mouth and drop-dead sexy scowl are my downfall… especially when he knows the secret that will ruin me.

Reid

I know her damn secret—the one that’ll destroy her. She’s waging a war to keep the truth hidden but I’m done playing that game. I’ll do whatever it takes to claim her… including the unthinkable.

*LIE TO ME is a hot standalone in the Rock Me series

Soundtrack

“Hallelujah” –Jeff Buckley

“Oxygen” –Twelve Foot Ninja

“Invincible” –Twelve Foot Ninja

“Collateral” –Twelve Foot Ninja

“The Mile” –Dead Letter Circus

“Are We Closer” –Dead Letter Circus

“Alien” –Dead Letter Circus

“Auto Rock” –Mogwai

“Glasgow Mega Snake” –Mogwai

“Folk Death” –Mogwai

Chapter One

There’s a cock on my car.

Not the fowl variety. The long, thick, hard, vein-running-the-length-of-it kind. It taunts me with its pulsing virility. Precum beads on the tip of the crown, mocking me.

Standing in the driveway, I glare at my van. Red-hot rage hits me harder than the sight of my defaced vehicle. “Jasper Dean Stirling, get your ass out here now!”

The curtain of our second-story window flickers.

Oh, hell no. I’m going to kill him.

I stalk into our townhouse and take the stairs two at a time. Slamming open his bedroom door, I ignore the blonde scrambling to cover herself with the bedsheet while I glare at my twin brother.

“What the fuck have you done?” I ask.

He yawns, feigning ignorance. “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about?” At the window, I wrench the curtain to one side. “Ring any bells?”

The blonde gasps.

I gesture toward my van. “Is this retribution for last night?”

Jasper’s expression is impassive.

“It is, isn’t it?” My heels echo on the hardwood. “If you’ve got a problem with how I sang, then say it to my face.”

My brother considers me. “You want me to say it?”

“Yes, I want you to fucking say it.”

Swinging his legs out of bed, he stands.

Thank Christ for boxer shorts.

“All right, I will.” He stalks over to me. “You almost cost us our chance at a million-dollar recording contract.”

My eyes narrow when Jasper crosses his spray-paint-splattered arms.

“You’re lucky the majority of male voters think with their dicks. Otherwise we would have been eliminated in the first round.”

My fingernails bite into my palms.

“And it all went to shit the moment you saw Reid Tate.”

The air is sucked from my body.

“It’s been three years, sis.”

My heart thunders against my rib cage.

“Three fucking years.”

Fury rolls through me. Untamed, all-consuming. I punch Jasper in the stomach.

He doubles over, gasping for breath.

Hooker Barbie launches herself out of the bed. “I should go.” She retrieves her hot pants, sequined halter top, and stilettos.

No underwear. Figures.

The door clicks shut behind her.

My voice is deathly quiet. “If you have a problem with how I perform, you come speak to me. And don’t pretend, not for one fucking second, to know what happened between Reid and me.” Turning, I throw over my shoulder, “Make your own way to Rising Star. I’m not driving you.”

Chapter Two

I pull into the parking lot of Rising Star. After throwing the stupid car in park, I wrench my door open, then slam it in disgust.

Tobias lets out a low whistle. “Your brother’s outdone himself, Shiloh.”

“Can you believe this shit? He spray-painted a penis on my car.”

Tobias shrugs. “Why are you surprised? He’s renowned for his impractical jokes.” He scratches his jaw, green irises scanning the parking lot. “Must have been pissed about last night.”

“How does one shitty performance justify what he’s done?” I gesture to the monstrosity on the side panel.

“You’ve got to admit, you weren’t at your best.”

Dropping my hand to my hip, I narrow my gaze. “So what if I screwed up a verse? I kept singing, didn’t I?”

“You also screwed up the chorus. And the last refrain.”

“I. Kept. Singing.”

My best friend strolls to where I stand. “Yes, you kept singing.”

“Your condescension is pissing me off. You know that, right?”

“Yep.” Tobias drapes a long arm around me. Drawing me close to his chest, he kisses the top of my head. “Don’t worry, we’ll think up some revenge.”

His proximity usually soothes me but today it doesn’t ease the tension coursing through my body. Instead, the knots choking my insides tighten.

I’m going to see him again.

Needing to take my mind off the man who tore my heart to shreds, I gaze at Tobias.

“You good?”

His eyes are clear, and his smile is soft. “Yeah, today’s a good day.” Taking in Jasper’s X-rated artwork, he shakes his head, amazement written in his features. “Gotta admit, the kid’s got talent.”

Crossing my arms, I grit out, “I barely noticed. The precum blindsided me.”

He snorts but covers it up with a cough. “I’m man enough to admit I’ve never seen a better cock.”

“I have.” I freeze. Heat floods my cheeks at my slip. Images of Reid Tate, naked and so fucking beautiful bombard me, and I can barely draw breath. The memories hitting square in my chest play like a movie reel, each one more painful than the last.

Him thrusting inside me for the first time.

Claiming me against my bedroom wall.

Staring into my eyes, my soul, and pledging his heart.

Fuck, it hurts. Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to hold my shit together.

Tobias’s gaze slides to mine. His amusement fades into concern. “Shiloh?”

But I’m not paying attention. The door to Rising Star opens, and through it saunters the man who stole my forever.

Gorgeous.

Talented.

Distant.

Reid strolls down the steps like a god sent to test the virtue of every woman on Earth.

I can feel the blood drain from my face. “Jesus.”

I need to get out of here. I need to run, hide, protect the remnants of my heart.

I don’t move.

The breeze picks up, blowing long black hair into my face. I brush it away, not wanting it to block my view. The gesture must draw his attention, because Reid’s gaze snaps to mine.

My breath catches, and my lungs seize.

Smoky gray eyes widen, then narrow.

“Reid. Over here,” Tobias calls.

Don’t come over. For the love of all things holy, don’t come over here.

He closes the distance between us with his long, unhurried strides. I don’t want him near, but I can’t stand the distance, either. I tell myself to look away but can’t. Blood pounds in my ears, and my body trembles.

“Hey, man.” Tobias grins at Reid. “What’s up?”

Reid holds up two splintered pieces of wood. “I broke my sticks.”

Shaking, I take in the long, tattooed fingers on his free hand as they push wavy blond hair behind one ear. My stare travels the corded muscles of his forearms and biceps, admiring his inkwork as it sparks to life. His T-shirt stretches across broad shoulders, and when my eyes finally land on his face, I can’t stop staring at his lips. Full, plump, masterful lips.

I still remember their taste.

Stop. Enough self-torture.

“Do you need some more?” Tobias retrieves a new pair of hickory drumsticks from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here, take these. I’ve got spares in my car.”

Reid pauses, then nods. “Thanks, appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Reid considers my van. Seconds later, wolflike eyes slam into me.

My heart stops.

“Have you been thinking about me, darlin’?”

Tobias’s gaze darts between mine and Reid’s. He laughs uncomfortably.

I inhale a shaky breath, desperate not to fall apart. No easy feat when my insides are a fucking crucible.

Reid slaps Tobias on the shoulder. Unconcerned about the memories torturing me with each breath, he turns and saunters away.

Taking my heart with him.

Chapter Three

A red Ford Fiesta pulls up at the curb. Jasper hops out of the passenger side, opens the trunk, and pulls his oversized, battered guitar case, amp, and leads from the vehicle. After shutting the trunk, he winks at Hooker Barbie 2.0 before striding toward us.

When he stops in front of me, his expression is sincere. “Are we good?”

“Are you bruised?”

Grimacing, he rubs his stomach with his free hand. “Yep.”

I nod. “Then we’re good.” He tries to move past, but I hold up a finger, stopping him. “Provided you clean my car.”

Tobias whispers in my ear.

I smile. “In a mankini.”

Like a whiny bitch, my brother grumbles. Like a true sister, I don’t give a shit.

It doesn’t take long for us to reach our rehearsal room and set up our instruments. After years of practice, we’ve got it down to a fine art.

Tobias grins at his Pearl Reference Series drum kit. It’s beautiful, with black shells, chrome hardware, and shiny brass cymbals. Jasper plugs his bass guitar into the pedal board and shoots me a rueful grin.

I wink, then continue warming the strings of my guitar, loving the sensation of my fingers skimming the fret board. Happy with the sound, I nod. “Let’s make some music.” I glance at Tobias. “Ready?”

Brows scrunched, he reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his phone. His jaw tightens when he scans the screen.

When Tobias catches my eye, I mouth, “Tiffany?”

He gives a sharp nod. Then, after putting the phone away, twirls his drumsticks between his index and middle fingers. The wood spins so fast it becomes a blur. “I’m in the mood for letting off some steam. Since I don’t have a beer, I’m gonna pummel the hell out of these skins. You guys with me?”

“Sure am.” Jasper grins.

I bite the inside of my cheek, determined to keep the peace. “Right, let’s do a level check, then we’ll get started.”

We play the first minute of our song.

My voice is strong and husky. The boys tell me it’s pure sex. Considering I lose myself in the music, I can’t say for sure if it’s true. All I know is, by the end of our sets, audiences gape at me with glazed expressions. I take it as a positive sign.

During the chorus, our mix is okay, but my head is elsewhere. Between Tobias’s craptastic girlfriend and Reid’s earlier comment, it’s impossible to focus.

“Dammit, sis.”

Christ.

“You know this chord progression. You fucking wrote it. Get your shit together.”

“Okay, okay.” I kick off my heels, needing to center myself. Somehow, being barefoot does this. After loosening my shoulders, I nod. “Let’s go from the breakdown again.” I count the boys in.

A wall of sound surrounds me. The guitars are dirty, the drumbeats are heavy, and we feed off each other’s energy. I love this part of our song. We all let loose as our intricate layers blend into something awesome.

When the chord progression peaks, I throw my head back and expel a controlled scream straight from my diaphragm.

My vocals are both in time and in tune with the music. Relishing the feeling that comes from hitting a note just right, I throw everything I have into the remainder of the song.

When the final bars fade, the boys and I are silent, grinning at each other.

Damn, this feels good. It’s what I live for.

Spending my life making music would be the ultimate reward for the shitstorm of the past three years. Despite the pain, grief, and despair, singing has been my constant escape.

“The voters are gonna blow their load over this song.”

Tobias grins at my brother. “We’ll make it through to the next round for sure.”

A familiar ball of angst forms in my stomach. My hand on the neck of my guitar tightens.

“That million-dollar contract is ours if we keep this up.” Jasper grins.

Both boys train their gazes on me. I try to smile.

“We need this, sis.” He dips his chin, a knowing look crossing his features. “We’ve got so much riding on this competition.”

Images of our townhouse falling into disrepair, Jasper selling his guitar to make ends meet, and spending the rest of my days working at Doughnut Delights flash through my head.

I’m sick of cleaning chocolate sauce from the ceiling.

I hate regurgitated marshmallow sticking to the floor.

And the sprinkles. There are so. Many. Goddamn. Sprinkles.

Straightening my shoulders, I ignore the anxiety churning inside and nod. “I won’t fuck this up.”

Chapter Four

“On behalf of the team at Rising Star Talent Quest, I would like to congratulate you on making it through to the second round.” Director Vivienne Heywood’s collagen-filled lips stretch over incandescent teeth.

She clicks her jewel-encrusted fingers, and a mousy-haired PA scampers about the conference room.

Promotional packages are handed to each of the contestants. Some open the manila folder, their brows furrowed, reading. The remainder of us glance at the cheesy image on the first page, roll our eyes, and throw the marketing propaganda on the glass tabletop.

Vivienne winks. At least, she tries to. Botox is to blame for the lack of movement. “This is where the competition gets interesting.” She glares at her PA. “Lights.”

The shutters are drawn, and the room is shrouded in darkness.

No longer being able to see Reid’s profile is a godsend. The scruff on his chiseled jawline makes me want to run my fingers through it. I want to find out if it’s as rough as I remember. But then I realize that I’ll never get the chance, and it shatters my heart a million times over.

He doesn’t look my way.

The projector springs to life. Vivienne’s smile appears almost sincere as she gestures to her presentation. “To ensure we’re all on the same page, I’m going to state the rules.” She pauses, her hawk eyes trained on each of us. “As you all know, the purpose of Rising Star is to discover and sign the next big music act.”

Tobias nudges me.

A swarm of butterflies take flight in my stomach. I search the room for my good friend and fellow competitor, Willow. Her presence always calms me down. Only, I can’t find her.

All I see is Reid.

“However,” Vivienne continues, “unlike other talent-based competitions, the fate of our artists rests solely on the voters.”

I swallow, realizing way too late the acoustics in this boardroom are insane.

Vivienne glares at me.

Oh hell.

Her jaw is tight. “Everything all right, Ms. Stirling?”

Beside me, my brother groans. In my peripheral vision, Reid shifts in his seat.

“Yep, perfectly fine.” I gesture for her to continue. “Please.”

Some of the contestants snigger.

They can kiss my ass.

“Thank you.” Vivienne sniffs. “As I was saying, we don’t have B and C grade celebrities posing as judges in our competition.” She waves dismissively. “Quite frankly, they’re a waste of money, airtime, and more often than not, legal fees.”

Reid leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. Even in the darkness, the lion on his bicep roars at me.

The familiar ache behind my ribs intensifies. I bite the inside of my cheek, needing to focus.

“Each act starts with a live audience capped at one hundred people.”

My stomach drops to the base of my spine.

“The more votes you receive, the larger your live audience grows for each performance.”

The tightness in my throat chokes me.

“If you lose votes, you lose your crowd base.” Vivienne rubs her skeletal hands together, her rings blinding when they catch the projector’s light. “Each act will perform once on a different night, with B-rolls of your journey filling the remainder of the time slot. The first act to reach full capacity in the performance arena and receive the majority vote wins a recording contract with Ironbank Records.” She glares at her PA. “Lights.”

The shades are opened, and the room is illuminated once more.

It takes a moment to adjust, but when I do, I freeze.

Reid stares at me.

Vivienne asks, “Questions?”

A girl raises her hand. “How many people does it take to fill the performance arena?”

But I’m too busy drowning in Reid’s gaze to care.

His expression isn’t twisted with hate, hurt, or blame. For the first time in three years he’s… watchful.

“Two thousand.”

The number drags me back to the present. “What?”

Vivienne arches an eyebrow. “Ms. Stirling?”

God-fucking-dammit.

Contestants turn to gape at me. Most in confusion, two in resignation, and one with curiosity.

I clear my throat. “Sorry, I, ah, got a bit excited.”

Vivienne’s nostrils flare. “I’m glad you’re looking forward to the experience.”

My brother mouths, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

But I’m too busy trying to sort through the panic in my head. Why is Reid watching me? Why didn’t anyone tell me the crowd size? What the fuck am I going to do?

A tide of dread swells, peaks, and crashes into me.

Closing my eyes, I try to fight the tears. Only, my dream of winning the contest slips from my grasp, one droplet at a time.

Chapter Five

Hours after the meeting, I drag my sorry ass from the car and trudge to the front door.

Doughnut Delights was hell on earth. It’s always busy, but add a two-for-one deal with an after-school crowd, and the place is insane.

With tired eyes, I take in the exterior of the townhouse. It’s a beautiful building. Like many others in Bayside, it has traditional brickwork with timber awnings and a balcony on the second story. The exterior is painted a soft gray, while the window frames are a brilliant white.

Mom and Dad would have loved this place.

Tobias waits on the front doorstep, dressed for tonight’s performance. As I put my key in the lock, he leans in close, smelling my neck. “Vanilla icing. Delicious.”

With a smile, I push him away. “Get off me.” I pass him the takeout bag. “Take the damn doughnuts.”

His grin is wide. “If you insist.” In under a minute, he’s emptied the bag.

We walk inside, and I throw my keys onto the side table.

“Yes, yes. Fuck, you feel so good.”

I freeze.

“I’m close, so fucking close. Don’t stop now. Oh. My. God.” There is a long, drawn-out moan followed by a guttural growl.

“Not again,” I groan.

Tobias stares at me, the corners of his lips twitching. Before long, he’s doubled over in laughter.

There’s the loud thump of a fist connecting with the wall. It’s powerful enough to send clouds of dust cascading down on us.

“Keep it down. You’re ruining the moment.”

“Give us a break, Jasper.” My voice echoes through the house. “Tobias and I don’t want to hear that shit. You keep it down.”

My brother mumbles something unintelligible, but thankfully, they quieten.

“I need a shower,” I mumble, heading toward the stairs.

“A cold one?”

I face Tobias. “Listening to my brother fuck yet another random chick does nothing for me.” With a shudder, I turn away. “I feel so dirty.”

“I feel thirsty. Got any beer?”

“No. You’re going easy on the alcohol, remember?”

He grumbles, but I ignore him. After the number he pulled on us six months ago, sobriety is for his own damn good.

My pulse hammers in my veins at the memory. He was so pale. His lifeless body a crumpled heap on the stark bathroom tiles.

Biting my lip, I blink back tears.

Needing to distract myself, I shower and dress in record time. My black, glossy hair is straight and drapes over my shoulders. The white tank top hugs my curves and emphasizes my narrow waist, and my skintight, ass-hugging jeans fit to perfection.

When I return to the living room, Tobias glances up from where he’s scowling at his phone. He does a double take, then whistles. “Damn, girl.” Standing, he circles me. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“Your jeans are tight, and the twins are out. What gives?”

Rolling my eyes, I push him away. “Nothing.”

“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. I, too, can pretend you didn’t dress with Reid in mind.”

Hands on hips, I glare at my best friend. “Reid wants nothing to do with me.”

Tobias’s humor fades.

“Look, I deserve his indifference served straight-up and ice-cold.” My tone softens. “But come on, it’s been three years. How long is the guy going to hold a grudge?”

He shrugs. “How long are you going to pretend it didn’t happen? You’ve never spoken to me about it, and I’ve never pushed you for the details, but something must have gone down for him to avoid you for so long.”

It did.

It was the worst mistake of my life. And no matter how I justify my decision, it doesn’t ease the burning hurt every time I’m reminded of it.

“Let’s go eat,” Tobias suggests, noticing my crestfallen expression. “I need to line my stomach before tonight. Tiffany refuses to eat anything with carbs, and I’m so fucking sick of Paleo salads.”

“You need to ditch that chick.”

“You need to forget that dude.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Done.”

Chapter Six

After dinner, my band arrives at Rising Star. As soon as we step inside, a pretty blonde with glossy lips pokes her head out an open doorway. “Shiloh, got a minute?” Her gaze scans my bare face. “Or several?”

Gritting my teeth, I shake my head. “Sorry, Stephanie, I don’t have time.”

“Honey, there’s always time for hair and makeup.” She actually claps. “Chop, chop.”

Beside me, Tobias and Jasper laugh.

I give them both a death stare before turning back to Stephanie. “Fine. But I need to do a sound check in forty minutes.”

Her eyes widen. “There’s no time to waste, then.”

With a low groan, I follow.

An hour and ten minutes later, I storm into the greenroom.

Jasper glances up from his guitar. His eyes bulge. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

Grabbing a water bottle from a nearby table, I throw it at him.

“The fuck?” He rubs his head.

“What the hell am I going to do?” I gesture to the makeup. “Glamazon drag queens have more subtlety. It’s going to take paint stripper and a trowel to remove this shit.”

“Your hair looks good.”

I gape. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Yep.”

His honesty relaxes the coiled tension and makes me smile. “Ass.”

“Trust me, sis, as soon as you start singing, no one will give a shit about your face.” He steps closer, shaking his head as he takes in my appearance. “Or your hair.”

I growl.

He smirks.

Tobias glances up from his phone. “Your brother’s right. They’ll be too blown away by your vocal range to care.”

Muttering about the ridiculousness of volumizing mousse, I pace.

“Thank fuck Vivienne had the foresight to organize support bands.” Jasper tunes his guitar. “Waiting around for one song from us would have sucked ass otherwise.”

The worry returns. If I don’t keep moving, I’m going to hurl. It’s that simple. The sound of the crowd growing exponentially louder is a death toll on my upchuck reflex.

Tobias nods. “I’m just glad they’ve got a similar style. Can you imagine if they were a pop group?”

Nausea rolls through me.

“Or a boy band with synchronized pelvic thrusts?” Jasper wiggles his hips.

Sweat breaks out on my skin.

Tobias grimaces. “Fuck, man. Put it away.”

I can’t breathe.

“They’ve got a good sound,” Jasper admits.

My vision blurs.

Tobias tilts his head, listening. “Yeah. It’s heavy, loud, and tight.” He smiles. “Not bad.”

I need to leave.

“I’m going to get some air,” I whisper.

As I shift past him, Tobias grabs my arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

My smile is brittle. “Yep. Fine.”

He searches my face. “What’s going on? Why are you sweating?”

“I’m not sweating. I’m covered in inch-thick luminous foundation.” I try to move away.

His grip tightens. “You can’t go anywhere. Vivienne will have a coronary.”

“Vivienne won’t even know I’m gone. I won’t be long.”

It’s my thinly veiled plea that makes him let go and step back.

Without thought to his troubled expression or the way he shares a worried glance with Jasper, I rush from the room.

Chapter Seven

I’m hit with a wall of heat.

It barrels toward me, knocking me backward.

My eyes scan the arena. The production team turned everything black. Curtains, floor, ceiling, stage. The only exceptions are the stage lights on the overhead rig, alternating between multicolor strobes, spots, and washes. Cutting the arena into one-tenth of its original size makes the space feel full.

I scramble for the wall behind me.

The crowd is swarming, pulsing, going stark raving mad for the band on stage. There must be one hundred people in the audience already.

Oh God.

I try to take comfort in the drumbeats. They’re deafening and reverberate through my rib cage. The sound is familiar and, in an odd way, comforting. Then the vocals start. The vibrations from the amps tremble through the soles of my feet and up my legs. However, the smell of fog from the smoke machine, mixed with spicy deodorants and pungent body odor, is suffocating. I search for an open window.

Air. I need fresh air.

My breathing is erratic.

I can’t breathe.

A sheen of sweat layers my skin.

I’ve got to get out of here.

Stumbling forward, I push, trip, stagger through the crowd. To my right is another dark hallway. Spinning, I fumble toward the rear service entrance. When I heave against an ancient door, it groans in protest but eventually opens. Desperate, I spill into the back alley.

I throw myself against the rough brick wall. Gasping for breath, I try to calm the fuck down.

Impossible. My pulse won’t ease.

“What are you doing?”

My head whips to the right.

“Well?”

Reid is a few feet away. As though timed to perfection, the clouds part and the moon beams. His skin is translucent in the moonlight, and his tattoos come to life as they decorate his muscular form. His expression is stoic.

My heart pummels my rib cage. Closing my eyes, I try to calm the terror, regret, love, and confusion. They all swarm my insides, uncaring that Reid is watching.

But I do.

I can’t show weakness. Not after all this time. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Reid is silent.

“Why are you here?”

He moves closer.

With each step, my breathing grows more erratic. When Reid’s woodsy spice teases my senses, my vision swims. Heart pounding and vision blurry, I beg for him to stay away.

He stops in front of me.

His body heat causes my cheeks to flush. Panicked and flustered, I don’t know where to look.

Callused fingers sweep my hair to one side, exposing my neck to the cool breeze.

“What are you doing?” I rasp.

His long fingers grip the soft strands, twisting them in his grip.

Something really fucking cold is pressed against the back of my neck.

I gasp.

My upper body instinctively thrusts forward. Only, a wall of Reid blocks the movement. I’m literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Reid lowers his head. “Breathe.”

Chapter Eight

Reid’s proximity and the arctic blizzard on my neck cut through the chaos. Slowly, my mind grows clear. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He stills. “For what?”

“For everything. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He disentangles his fingers from my hair and steps back.

I hate that I miss his closeness. After all this time, my need for him hasn’t waned. If anything, it’s grown stronger. The cruelest twist of fate.

“You’re three years too late.”

The words are a slap to the face. Sucking in a sharp breath, I bite my bottom lip and look away. “I know. And I deserve everything you want to say.” Pausing, I collect my thoughts, not wanting to screw up this chance to explain myself. “I never should have run out on you like I did. You deserved better than that. It’s just….” My voice catches, so I clear it. “I couldn’t stay. Not after….” A lone tear trickles down my cheek.

His free hand clenches into a fist, the tattoos decorating it twirling across his skin. “Here.”

I wipe my face hastily before taking the beer from his outstretched hand. “So that’s your torture weapon of choice.”

He shrugs.

Taking it, I raise it to my lips and drink.

Reid’s gaze is fixed on my mouth, his irises darkening from ash to charcoal.

Once finished, I attempt to give the drink back, but he shakes his head.

“Better?” There’s a gravelly edge to his voice that wasn’t there a minute ago.

Scanning my body, I’m shocked to find I am feeling better. My heart rate is under control, my breathing is even. Even the sheen of sweat is gone. To the casual observer, I would appear worlds apart from the crazed woman who stumbled outside in the midst of a panic attack.

Oh. Shit.

A lead weight drops from a great height. It lands, heavy and uncomfortable, on my shoulders. An inescapable reminder of the mistake I’ve made.

Eyes wide, I take in the man before me. “How long have you been out here?”

Reid gives me a long look. “A while.”

I dig my fingernails into my palms until they break the skin. What the fuck am I going to do now?

Before I can figure out a solution, the service entrance door swings open.

Tobias’s head peers around the corner. His gaze darts between Reid and me, expression frantic. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. We’re on in five minutes.”

I turn to Reid, ready to beg him not to tell anyone about my fear.

Only, Tobias calls, “Shiloh, there’s no time. Let’s go.”

Unwillingly, I grit my teeth, and follow my friend. When I finally catch up with him, he shakes his head, refusing to meet my eyes. “Shiloh—”

“Don’t say a word.”

“But—”

“Not one word, Tobias. Swear to God. I’m not in the mood for a lecture right now.”

With a shake of his head, he remains silent.

If only my heart would do the same.

Chapter Nine

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Willow takes a sip of peppermint tea.

I bury my face in my hands. “It was a disaster. Think the Titanic but with no life rafts.”

Her soft chuckle drifts through the seaside cafe.

“I fucked up the first verse, forgot part of the second, and wanted to hang myself with the mic lead by the third.” I peek through my fingers. “I used to carve it up on stage, you know? I’d have the audience eating out of my palm.” My hands drop to the table. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“At least your voice held true. Despite everything, your vocal range was unbelievable. None of the other contestants came close.” She lowers her cup. “Look, you had a rough night. Every musician goes through this at some point in their career.”

“Does every musician trip over a foldback speaker and head-butt their bass guitarist?”

Her bow-shaped lips press together as she tries to fight a smile. “So you had a little stumble. From the footage I saw, you picked yourself up and kept going. Determination and perseverance are qualities to be proud of. The voters will love you for it.”

Ducking my head, I let long hair fall into my face. “My performance sucked. The boys are going to hate me.” Rubbing my forehead, I mutter, “Stupid phobia.”

“Huh?”

Straightening, I push the dark strands away. “Nothing.” I stare out the window. Aquamarine water laps the golden shoreline. I try to find solace in the rhythm, in the certainty of the current as it advances, then retreats again.

It’s no use.

My mind flashes back to the night before.

As soon as I stepped up to the mic stand and looked out at the audience, I was doomed. I wanted to tell my phobia to get fucked. I swore that it had no hold on me. I needed to purge the hurt and find freedom in the lyrics.

It didn’t work.

Fear overtook my body, and I could barely formulate words, let alone sing them. The boys did their best to cover for me. We had longer instrumental sections, and Jasper stood closer than normal. Meaning, I could sing to him rather than the people watching us.

“It was the most embarrassing three and a half minutes of my life. As soon as the song ended, I ran off stage. I’ve been avoiding the guys ever since.” I sigh.

Willow leans back in her chair. The sunlight catches her auburn hair, giving her a flaming halo. She considers me for a moment, expression soft. “Shiloh, it’s going to be all right. You know that, right?”

No.

Life is far from fair. Case in point: Reid saw my meltdown, my band had to cover for me, and I put our chances of winning Rising Star in jeopardy. All because of fear.

I’m desperate to move forward, but every time I take a step, I’m dragged backward again. It’s exhausting.

There’s so much relying on our success, and not just with Rising Star. I want, no, need to prove to myself that I can sing in front of an audience. My happiness depends on it. I refuse to let my phobia steal what I love.

Despite not seeing a way out of this mess, I can’t give up. I need to keep trying. “It’s okay, Wil.” I attempt a smile. “Everything will fall into place somehow.”

Chapter Ten

Needing space, I say goodbye to Willow and walk across the road to an empty basketball court.

Dropping my bag near the chain-link fence, I open it and retrieve my notebook and pen. I put the notebook on the asphalt before shoving the pen behind my ear. With a grin, I retrieve my ancient soccer ball. The logos and insignia have long since faded but I love it anyway.

Backing up a few steps, I place it by my feet, pause, then kick. It connects with the wire mesh and rolls back to me. I kick again, gradually building the tempo until it becomes a four-four beat.

Like always, the rhythm causes a melody to form in my head. I hum, and before long, words flow in the form of a verse.

Puffing, I repeat the verse over and over, altering a word here, a phrase there, playing with the structure until I’m happy with it. “Sweet.”

I jog to my notebook, pull the pen from behind my ear, and write. Once done, I drop the book on the ground, shove the pen back where it was, and return to my ball, starting the process again.

When I finish the second verse, I throw my head back and glory in the afternoon sun warming my skin. Finally, a song that speaks the truth. It explains the difficulties I’m going through in raw, honest detail. I love it.

When I open my eyes, they narrow. “No!” Racing to Reid, I snatch the notebook from him. “What the hell?” I clutch it tight to my chest. “Quit reading my song lyrics.”

“You’re writing a song?” He yanks the notebook from my grasp and opens it again, brows furrowed.

My gaze darts from my empty fingers to his confused expression. When I try to take the book back, Reid holds it out of reach. “Yes, I’m writing a song. We have to write a new one every week, remember?” Giving up, I cross my arms. “Or did you miss that information at the meeting?”

His gaze fixes on me. “I didn’t miss anything at the meeting.”

The intensity in his look makes me falter.

Reid’s perceptive gaze slowly travels the length of my body. “So this is how you write lyrics now? You never used to do it this way.”

For once, I keep quiet.

“A lot has changed in three years.”

“Not everything,” I murmur. My battered and bruised heart begs him to see that it only beats for him.

His jaw tightens. “I trusted you once. I sure as fuck won’t be making the same mistake again.”

The words hit me square in the chest. Pain shoots through me, causing tears to sting my eyes. I blink them away. Weakness has no place here.

Reid opens my notebook again. “I’ve climbed up mountains, give me your landslide?” He scoffs, snapping the book closed. “Let me give you some advice.”

No.

I’m barely holding myself together as it is. If he delivers another scathing criticism, I’m going to fall apart. “Listen, we might have grown up together. Our history might be longer than most marriages, but you’ve got no right to tell me what to do. You’ve barely spoken ten words to me in years. Why the hell would I listen to you now?”

Reid places his index finger on my lips, silencing me. The contact shoots need directly to my core.

“Firstly,” he begins, his voice a low warning, “what you’ve written won’t work using a four-four beat.” He steps in close. His quicksilver eyes throw down a final challenge. “And secondly, you’re lying.”

I try to speak.

His touch strengthens. “You haven’t ‘climbed up mountains’ and sure as fuck can’t ‘conquer landslides.’”

Not able to handle his skin touching mine, I swat his hand away. “The song is metaphorical. It’s not meant to be taken literally.”

“I know.”

Pausing, I look away. In all fairness, Reid’s an exceptional musician, so his issue with timing is justified. However, his complaint about my word choices doesn’t make sense.

I want this new song to be about overcoming fear, about triumphing despite insurmountable obstacles. It’s what I’m experiencing right now, dammit. What’s wrong with writing about empowerment?

I inhale a deep breath. “Look, I’ve got a lot going on at the moment.”

“Your lyrics are bullshit.”

Reeling back, I open and close my mouth. Anger curdles in my veins. “What in the ever-loving fuck—”

“It’s time for you to be honest with yourself.” Reid dips his head until his lips hover above mine.

Warm breath washes over my skin.

“You’re not climbing mountains. You’re hiding in their fucking shadows.”

He’s too close; it’s too much. I need space.

Only, when I attempt to move, Reid loops an arm around my waist, pulling me against him.

His size, his body, his piercing stare that sets me on fucking fire. It’s disorienting. I can’t see straight, my legs threaten to give way, and it burns where we touch.

“Tell me, darlin’.” His gaze travels from my parted mouth to my hooded eyes and back again. “Why are you wasting your time writing songs about euphemistic bullshit?”

Oh, fuck no.

A red mist descends, and I try to wrench myself away.

His grip is unrelenting. “Well?”

Reid can blame me for hurting him.

He can call me out on my shitty performance.

But there is no way in hell my lyrics are meaningless.

Tipping my chin, I glare. “Because life is hard. And writing about losing the people you love is like rummaging around a gaping wound with a shard of broken glass. It fucking hurts, okay? Life. Fucking. Hurts.”

Reid’s Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow. “There she is.”

Taken aback, I blink. “What?”

He wraps his free hand around my throat, his thumb pressing against my racing pulse. “Can you feel this?” His voice is a deep rumble. “Your blood pumping, your heart screaming, your insides on fucking fire?”

Suppressing a shiver, I nod.

“That’s your truth, darlin’. The pain, the hurt, the fear. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to your band to write what’s real.” He releases me.

I stumble backward.

“How else are you going to face your fear of crowds?”

Breath gets trapped in my lungs. I inhale but forget what to do after that. My lungs scream for oxygen. Only, I can’t respond.

Reid knows.

He knows my secret.

And he hates me enough to reveal it.

Chapter Eleven

“Hey, Tobias?”

“Uh-oh. I know that tone. What do you want?”

Bending at the waist, I select a pebble. “I don’t want anything.”

He snorts. “Sure, you don’t.”

Straightening, I turn the stone over in my palm, admiring how the light hits the glossy surface. “How do you think Wil’s band is doing?”

With quick movements, Tobias brushes sand from his shorts. “Jasper will tell us soon enough. He said he’d call her after their performance.”

“Do you think it’s a bitch move that we aren’t watching them?”

He squints at the ocean. “Vivienne said we’re not allowed to tamper with other contestants. She mentioned previous competitors standing in the crowd, whispering in the ears of voters and shit. They got booted off the show because of it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” Gesturing to the water, he nods. “Your turn.”

I crouch low, draw my arm back, and quickly swoop it forward. My eyes follow the stone as it skips across the water five times before disappearing from sight.

A grin teases my mouth.

Tobias mutters a curse. Crossing his arms, he levels me with a flat stare. A lock of jet-black hair falls into his eyes with the sea breeze, making him appear younger. “What was your real question?”

Facing him, I feign ignorance.

He doesn’t buy it. “You were going to ask it before chickening out and asking about Willow’s band instead.” Turning away, he mutters, “As if I wouldn’t notice. I’ve known you for fucking ever.”

Like Tobias, I scan the shoreline for another rock. When I find one, I turn it over in my palm, testing its weight. Pointless, really. The distraction doesn’t ease the tension building between my shoulders.

Deciding to hell with it, I clear my throat. “Do you think I’m brave?”

Tobias looks at me and blinks. Eventually, he scratches the stubble on his jaw. “What kind of question is that?”

Shrugging, I look down, scraping sand from the pebble with my fingernail.

“If you can skim that rock seven times, I’ll answer your stupid question.”

“It’s not a stupid question.” But I crouch low and extend my throwing arm back. With a flick of my wrist, the pebble projects toward the ocean.

Seven.

With a wide smile, I prop a hand on my hip and wait.

Tobias sighs, then averts his gaze. Eyes downcast, he searches for another rock. “Yes, you’re brave.”

“Thank fuck.” My body sags with relief.

“Sometimes.”

“What?” It tenses again.

He picks up a pebble and smiles. “Not many people have the balls to threaten Jasper with a nail gun.”

Laughter bubbles inside me at the memory. A group of us were hanging outside one summer when Jasper and I got into a fight over whether Fender or Gibson were better crafted guitars. Jasper was an arrogant dick, so I picked up Dad’s nail gun and pointed it at his balls. Luckily, Tobias stepped in and suggested the compromise of both being legendary.

My friend skims his rock. It jumps six times. “On the other hand”—he straightens, his expression sobering—“you’re the most frightened person I know.”

“Now, wait a minute—”

He holds up one hand, stopping me. “Hear me out.”

Not wanting to, I turn away.

“Yes, you’re brave. Of course, you are. But you’re terrified too.” He walks over and drapes an arm around my waist. With a small shake, he continues. “Come on, Shiloh. You’ve got to admit that you run at the first sign of a challenge.”

Teeth locked together, I force back the words I can’t say. Tobias doesn’t know about the challenge I face every fucking time I step up to the mic. He’s got enough to deal with. The last thing I’d do is add to his stress. But damn, I wish I could offload.

“Take last night for example,” he murmurs, oblivious to my internal battle. “What the fuck was with you?”

Shaking him off, I move toward the water’s edge.

“By the looks of it, you would have preferred a lobotomy to getting on stage, and once you were….” Eyes wide, he shakes his head.

“I know, I know.” I scrub one hand down the side of my face. “It was bad.”

“And then there’s Reid.”

No. Just no.

The thought of Reid’s body pressed against me, of his lips mere millimeters from mine, and the cruel way he forced my hand, makes my heart ache. It’s like a barbed wire twists and tightens around it, piercing the soft muscle until it bleeds sorrow.

With a soft voice, I murmur, “Stop, okay? Look, I’ll admit I sang like shit last night. I just wasn’t expecting…. I mean, there were so many….” Tipping my head back, I will the cloudless sky to give me the words I need.

Nearby, Tobias waits.

When nothing happens, I exhale. “I’m sorry. I was having a bad night. It won’t happen again.”

Stepping in close, he wraps his arms around me.

His touch is familiar and comforting, so I sink into the embrace.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Shaking my head, I burrow into his chest.

“I’m stronger than you think.”

My voice is muffled by his shirt. “You’ve got enough shit going on. I’m not going to add to it.”

“It’s what friends do.” One hand trails up and down my back. “I’m better now, I promise.”

Leaning away slightly, I meet his eyes. “You don’t understand. Finding you like that….” The breeze blows tendrils of hair into my face.

Tobias gently moves them out of the way, his expression soft yet remorseful.

“I thought I was too late.” I bite my trembling bottom lip. “I thought I’d lost you.”

With a muttered curse, he pulls me close and rests his cheek on the top of my head. “You’ll never lose me.”

Chapter Twelve

“We need this, sis. We’ve got to make it through to the third round.”

Fists clenched, I follow my brother on stage. “I know this already. I dealt with the aftermath of a sherbet doughnut gone wrong yesterday. Getting paid to make music instead of having icing thrown in my face isn’t something I’ll forget.”

Behind me, Tobias chuckles.

“Swear to God, Jasper,” I grit out. “Between your incessant nagging and the camera crew following us like a bad smell, it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.”

We sit on one side of the bloodred U-shaped couch. Around us, nervous and excited contestants fill up the remaining spaces.

Reid’s band sits opposite. Even though Reid doesn’t glance my way, there’s no ignoring his gravitational pull. He’s like a black hole, drawing me closer, luring me toward a supernova.

I groan.

“Shut up,” Jasper hisses. “They’re recording.”

“They can’t hear us.” I flip my long hair over one shoulder in an attempt to feign nonchalance. “Vivienne’s too busy blinding the cameraman with her incandescent teeth. Why is she hosting anyway? I thought she was the director?”

“She is the director. And the producer. And the host.”

“Someone wasn’t hugged as a baby.”

He elbows me in the side. “Shut. Up.”

“Bite me.”

Tobias glares at us, so we fall quiet. For two minutes.

Then, my brother murmurs, “Where’s the audience?”

“There is no audience on voting night,” I whisper back.

Thank fuck.

“It’s all prerecorded,” I continue. “There are reflective interviews with each of the bands, and then footage of us trying not to piss ourselves while waiting for the final tally.”

He curses.

Vivienne turns to the contestants. She grins, and I want to shield my eyes. “To those of you who make it through, we have an extra special surprise.” She pauses. “Are you ready to hear it?”

The competitors nod.

Vivienne turns her attention to the camera and tries to raise an eyebrow. “And what about you, viewers? Are you ready for the surprise?” In the background, her PA nods like it’s her job.

Once again, Vivienne sweeps her gaze across the competitors, daring anyone to interrupt her moment of glory. “Next week, Bradley Reading is joining us on Rising Star.”

“Bradley Reading?” Tobias whisper-shrieks. His voice is two octaves higher than usual.

“He’s here to give his expert opinion on which bands are likely to make it through to the final.”

“Wait.” I subtly nudge my best friend. “I’ve heard that name before. Remind me who he is again?”

Our host faces the camera as she continues her monologue, her arm gestures becoming more animated.

Tobias turns to me, blinking slowly. “How could you forget Bradley fucking Reading?”

I shrug.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bradley Reading is one of the country’s most prolific music producers.”

“Apart from Zeke Danton,” Jasper interrupts.

Tobias waves him away. “Reading is renowned for singlehandedly scouting and orchestrating the international stardom of no less than eleven bands over the past decade. The guy’s a fucking genius.” He pauses. “He has a killer beard too.”

“Love a good beard.”

I raise an eyebrow at Jasper. “Really? That’s what you got from the conversation?”

He winks.

Tobias’s eyes are wide. “Guys, this is really fucking huge.”

“You’re right. We have to make it through to the next round.” My brother nods.

“Agreed.” They give each other a discreet fist pump.

When they turn to me, I cover my nerves with a smile.

Chapter Thirteen

When Vivienne slowly names the bands going through to the next round, she waits a full ten seconds between each announcement. The woman lives for a power trip.

She calls Reid’s band. The genuine smile that lights up his face is a punch to the ribs.

He used to smile at me like that.

In high school, he’d press me against the lockers and roll his hips against my stomach.

It always made me gasp. He’d grin, and the skin around his eyes would crinkle. There’d even be this crease where his cheek met the corner of his lips. I loved looking at it.

Tears sting my eyes.

Three other bands are called but I barely notice. I’m too busy trying not to cry.

Tobias nudges me. “You okay?”

Clearing my throat, I nod.

“We’ve got this, Shiloh.”

“I know.” I don’t. “I’m fine.” I’m not.

After an excruciatingly long silence, our band is named. The boys jump to their feet, pulling me with them.

We hug, we kiss, we celebrate.

I play the role as best I can.

A part of me is genuinely happy we’ve made it through. We’re one step closer to achieving our dream. But another part of me vacillates between dreading the future and pining for the past.

Mostly, I grieve for the boy who once loved me.

Chapter Fourteen

After an emotional day, I collapse on my bed. The shadows cast from the tree outside dance across the ceiling in a private shadow puppet performance.

Jasper and Tobias are out celebrating. I’m not in the mood. I thought I’d hang back and write a new song, but the words didn’t come.

I think I’m broken.

I consider my options. “Wil will know what to do.”

Jumping up, I throw on some tight black jeans, ankle boots, and a fitted, red-check, button-down shirt. After grabbing the keys, my phone, and some cash, I shove them in my pockets. When I open the front door, I freeze.

“Hey.”

I still. My skin flushes hot, yet goose bumps appear. I lick my lips, confused and elated. “Reid. What are you doing here? I didn’t hear you pull up.”

He shrugs. Easy and unaffected. Knowing eyes skim my outfit.

It’s not a soft caress.

His stare is like fingernails scratching oversensitive skin, abrasive yet pleasurable. When it reaches my face, he stops on my parted lips.

I can’t think, can’t breathe, do anything when he looks at me like that.

Like he wants me.

Abruptly, he turns and walks away, calling over one shoulder, “Follow me.”

There’s no way I can do that. If he leads, I’ll follow. It’s that simple. I’ll trail him to the ends of the earth knowing there’s no final destination.

I can’t break my heart more than it already is. “No.”

Reid pauses midstep. He turns and slowly, deliberately strides toward me. He doesn’t stop until our feet touch and his chest presses against mine.

“Tell me you don’t want to come,” he challenges, his deep, rumbling voice a thunderstorm in the silence.

“I….” My hands press against his chest. I mean to push him away, but the spark from where we touch fuses them to his body.

Reid buries his hands in my hair. We’re so close, the silver flecks in his gray eyes glimmer like shooting stars. “Tell me.”

The warm breath on my cheeks sends shockwaves down my spine. If he loosens his hold, I can lean forward and taste him.

“Say the words. Say you don’t want to come with me.”

The planes of his hard body juxtapose the soft contours of mine. Trembling, eyes wide, I try to evade his question. “What happened to you?”

His twists my hair.

Pinpricks sting my skin. “You were the sweetest, kindest, most generous soul. You created playlists of my favorite bands when I was sick. You bought me vinyl records from secondhand stores. You used to laugh with me. Remember?”

He tugs. “I grew up.”

“You grew bitter.”

“I grew wiser.”

Pressing his hips against my stomach, he narrows his gaze. “What’s it going to be?”

My fingernails dig into his chest. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Why aren’t we driving?” I ask.

Reid leads me from one darkened street corner to the next. There’s a salty tang in the air, and despite the balmy night, it grows cooler with each step.

“No parking spaces.” Reid doesn’t glance over his shoulder. He’s been three strides ahead the entire way.

Nearby, a punk rock band play, and a commentator also yells through a poorly mixed PA system. Laser flip, caballerial, and nollie tease my memory as they’re bellowed through the mic.

We round a final corner.

I stop. Fear rolls through my body, momentarily paralyzing me. “No.” Shaking my head, I force myself to step back.

Reid turns, unmoved by my reluctance. “Yes.” He makes his way to the ticket booth.

Not wanting him to see how badly my hands are shaking, I slip them into the back pockets of my jeans.

Through the entrance are rows upon rows of colorful stalls. Hats, hoodies, tank tops, stickers, water bottles, and state-of-the-art, custom-made skateboards are everywhere.

Beyond them sits the vertical half-pipe. Well over twenty feet high and sixty feet wide, it towers above us.

With rapid-fire heartbeat, I take in the bleachers set up on the shoreline. They block the view of the ocean, though I can still hear the waves crashing.

The bleachers are partially filled with spectators eating, drinking, and hollering at the contestants performing under lights. Since most people are milling around the food trucks, merch stands, and the stage on the other side of the half-pipe, the bleachers are the least crowded section.

“Here.” Reid returns, handing me a ticket.

I stare at it like it’s poison. “I can’t go in there.”

“Yes, you can.”

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. “I can’t.”

Taking a decided step forward, he dips his chin. “Shiloh.”

Christ.

My name passing his lips is a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because it’s the sweetest music I’ve ever heard. And a curse, because I’ll do whatever it says.

“Get your ass inside.”

With terror clawing its way up my throat, I show my ticket to the attendant and beeline for the bleachers. My knees tremble the entire way, and by the time I reach the highest bench seat, I’m all but hyperventilating.

Reid settles in beside me. He doesn’t say anything, and I’m glad. My insides are a jumbled mess; I’d struggle to verbalize what’s going on anyway.

When my breathing finally settles, I focus on the scene before me. A competitor is carving it up in the half-pipe. Desperate to keep my mind occupied, I blurt, “That’s an insane trick.”

Reid nods, rubbing his hands along his thighs.

“How’d he do?”

“Pretty good.”

The skater does another crazy flip, trick combination. I try to remember its name. If memory serves, it’s a Front 360 Pop Shove. “What about now?”

“He needs to watch his lines. If he’s not careful, he’s going to—”

There’s a collective groan from the audience as the skateboarder flies ass over tit.

I cringe.

Reid swears.

Turning to him, I watch the hard lines of his face. “Do you miss it?”

His gaze meets mine, and a flicker of vulnerability crosses his features before he schools it, detachment taking its place.

I hate how Reid hides what he’s feeling. He never used to.

“Sometimes.”

“What was it like being on the national squad?”

He cracks his knuckles. The tattoos on his hands turning a menacing shade of gray. “It was all right.”

“All right?”

Reid’s eyes blaze. “What do you want me to say? That the day I tore my ACL was the day my future was shot to hell? That not being able to realize my childhood dream is a nightmare I can’t wake from? That it’s only when I’m drumming, I forget the shitty hand I’ve been dealt?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Leave it, Shiloh.” He glares at the competitor like he personally offended him. “We’re not bonding over childhood memories. That’s not what’s going on here.”

“Then why am I here? Why would you bring me to a place like this?” I gesture to the activity going on around us.

He stands. “Come on.”

“Quit ordering me around and tell me what’s going on.”

Towering over me, he places his hands on either side of my hips. Leaning in close, his nose brushes mine.

Heat swirls across my cheeks, like ink being stirred in water.

“Don’t test me, darlin’.”

His scent is spicy and intoxicating. It takes me back to a time when I’d press my mouth against his. Slip my tongue inside. Scratch my nails across his skin. “Or what?” I breathe.

His nostrils flare. “Or you’ll find out how cruel I can be.”

Chapter Sixteen

“Jesus.” Despite his warning, I’m transfixed by Reid’s broad shoulders and narrow waist as he storms from the bleachers. Standing, I follow.

He doesn’t stop until we reach the outside edge of the mosh pit. There, he levels me with a flat stare.

I look from him to the heaving throng and back again. “No.” I shift back. “No fucking way.”

He takes my hand, his palm cool. “Yes.”

I’d love to relish the feel of Reid’s hand in mine but I’m too busy trying to think up a way out of this situation.

When he goes to enter the swarming mass of people, I rip my hand from his grasp. “Not happening. There’s no fucking way I’m going in there.”

Deliberately, he steps in close. His tall form presses against mine. At any other time, I’d run my hands all over him. I’d map out each muscle with my reverent touch, committing the peaks and valleys to memory once again.

But I can’t.

I’m too frantic.

Reid glares. “When are you going to realize that this isn’t about you? This is about your bandmates and everyone involved in your success.” He stares at me for the longest time. “Don’t fuck this shit up.”

Fire erupts from my veins. “Overcoming a legitimate phobia isn’t that simple. It’s not something I can switch on and off when I feel like it.” I point at the crowd. “Don’t expect me to walk in there, welcome a gazillion fucking bodies pressing against me, and thank you for it afterward.” Pushing him away, I bite out, “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.”

The pulse at the base of his neck throbs.

Deciding it’s long overdue, I turn to leave. Only, before I can take the first step, I’m picked up and thrown over a wide shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?”

Reid advances toward the crowd.

“Reid Tate, I swear on your Tama Star Bubinga drum kit, you’re going to regret this!” Desperate, I try to kick him in the face.

His grip on my flailing legs intensifies.

“Put me down!”

He does. In the middle of the mosh pit.

I’m going to die.

Eyes wide, I scan the crowd. “Oh, fuck.”

A wall of people surrounds me. They’re on my left, right. They’re behind, and in my peripheral vision.

My breath catches, my head swims, and my legs turn liquid. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

There are so many people.

I. Cant. Get. Out.

Panic overrides logic as my body shuts down. The ocean roars in my ears, and my vision blurs.

Just as the darkness is about to descend, Reid grips my face, turning me to him. “Shiloh, look at me.”

No.

I shut my eyes, hating him with every fiber of my being. Tears stream down my face. They trail down the bridge of my nose and wet my lips. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

His gravelly voice is urgent as it rumbles in my ear. “Open your eyes. Come on, darlin’. Look at me.”

I want to but can’t.

A sob escapes. I try to check it and force it back, but the bastard is determined.

“Fuck.” With an agonized groan, Reid kisses me.

Chapter Seventeen

It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s hard, borderline harsh. Yet, the shock of his touch is exactly what I need to return from my terror-filled nightmare.

My grip on his hands loosens.

We’re no longer in the middle of an audience. Hell, I’m not even having an episode. Instead, I’m a livewire of pulsing energy, channeling endless electric waves toward a single source.

Reid.

Sounds recede, the music stops, and all that’s left is him.

Reid angles my head, his tongue darting along the seam of my lips. He demands entrance, and with a low moan, I open to him. His tongue delves inside, searching, claiming, conquering my mouth.

My hands trail the tense, corded muscles of his forearms. They skim his biceps, and rest on his pecs. It’s been too long, since I’ve reveled in the contours of his body.

He feels different. Harder, stronger, unyielding. The loving boy I grew up with has been replaced by an angry, passionate man.

With a growl, Reid grasps my wandering hands. He wrenches them behind my back, pinning them together.

Frustrated, I thrust my chest out, rubbing my breasts against his torso.

His clasp tightens. While one hand restrains me, the other travels to my nape. He delves his fingers into my hair, grabs a handful, and tugs.

I gasp, then moan.

Sharp teeth nip my bottom lip before he draws it into his mouth and sucks on it.

My knees buckle.

Releasing my now-swollen lip, Reid gently licks the teased skin. He caresses it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth once again.

Then he pulls away.

Like a compass without a needle, I sway, lost and directionless. When I gather my bearings and glance at Reid, his face is a blank mask.

All the hurt, the torment, the years I kept quiet about the tempest ruling me cause my eyes to sting.

I’ve got to get out of here.

Reid grabs my hand and pushes his way through the crowd. Once we’re out in the open, I disentangle our fingers and collapse on the ground.

Now that the chaos has passed, exhaustion settles in my bones. My limbs are heavy and weak. Tiredly, I take in the night sky, wishing I was someone else.

Reid crouches by my side.

Turning, I search his face, desperate for a sign that he felt the same whirlwind I did when our mouths touched.

He looks away. “I know how to fix this.”

I don’t bother pretending to sound interested. Instead, I return my attention to inky velvet above, wishing I was scared of something more practical, like rabbits. “That’s nice.”

“It’s going to work.”

“Sure, it is, Reid. Sure, it is.”

Gazing at the stars, I ponder the big things. Like life, and how much I suck at it.

But a small part of me is curious. Maybe Reid does have the answer. Maybe he holds the key to the locked box that is my courage. Either that, or he’s about to open Pandora’s box.

Chapter Eighteen

“Are you bumping uglies with Reid?”

Black coffee sprays all over my cooked breakfast. Grabbing a napkin, I wipe droplets from my mouth. “Jesus, Jasper. You could have at least let me take a mouthful of sourdough.”

He throws his head back, laughing. “And miss watching you ruin your breakfast? Never.”

“You did it on purpose, asshole.” I glare at him. “You can have brunch on your own from now on.”

He shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Mom would be so disappointed.”

“Don’t pull the guilt card on me. You’ve got no shame.”

Jasper smirks. “Nope.” Taking a bite of toast, he considers me. “What about Tobias?”

“What about him?” My eggs are ruined.

“Well, if you’re not fucking Reid, are you fucking him?”

I throw my crumpled napkin at him. “You did not just ask that.”

He bats it away. “Come on, sis. How long is it going to take to put two and two together?”

“Tobias isn’t interested in me.”

He snorts. “That guy’s interested in three things: drums, drinking, and you.”

“He’s been sober for months.”

My brother waves away my interjection, his eyes lighting up. “Wait. Is this a ménage situation?”

“Screw you.”

He chuckles. “I never took you for a dark horse, but maybe I’ve misjudged you, sis.”

With a groan, I drop my head into my hands. Shit isn’t going my way this morning.

Since kissing Reid, I’ve been in a hot mess. Despite my best efforts, he refused to elaborate on how he’s going to cure my enochlophobia. So of course my mind ran rampant and kept me up all night.

I yawn.

“Who’s got the biggest cock?”

Meeting Jasper’s mischievous expression, I glare. “I am not having this conversation with you. We’re at a café, for Christ’s sake. Show some class.”

“It has to be Reid,” he continues, uncaring. “I love Tobias like a brother, but he’s definitely on the scrawny side.”

“He’s not scrawny.”

My brother grins. “So it is Tobias.”

“It’s not Tobias!”

“Reid then.”

I rub my forehead. “Why do I have to be related to you?”

Jasper takes a bite of toast, expression turning thoughtful. “Do you think Bradley Reading will watch our rehearsals this week?”

Averting my eyes, I inspect the mess on my plate. “I don’t know.”

“Wouldn’t it be fucking amazing if he does?”

“Sure.” A familiar wave of terror rolls through my stomach.

He takes another bite of toast. “I’m sick of playing small shows. I’m ready for the big time.”

“We’ve got to earn it, Jasper. That’s why I didn’t want to enter Rising Star in the first place.” Partly true. “Stardom doesn’t happen overnight, it takes time.”

“We don’t have time. Mom and Dad’s money is almost gone. Our joined income isn’t enough to cover studio time, let alone recording and production costs. This is our only shot.” He drops the remains of his toast on his plate and wipes the crumbs from his hands. “In fifty years, I want to look back on my life and know I’ve done something, you know? I want to change the world in a big fucking way. Music is it for me.”

Guilt eats away at me as I bite my lip, and I nod. “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

“Do you want this?” Jasper sizes me up. “You’re going through the motions rather than living in the moment. The deeper we get into this competition, the less you want to be there.”

Deny, my head screams.

“I’m not distant. I’m fine. I keep telling you this.”

“You forget we shared a womb for eight months. I know you better than you know yourself. And you’re talking out of your ass whenever you say you’re fine.”

It’s going to take a miracle to get me through this competition.

Chapter Nineteen

With nerves bubbling inside me, I scan the greenroom. I expect to see a tall, brooding man with silver eyes. Only, no one is there. “Where the fuck is he?”

Heavy drums signal the start of the support band’s set.

Rubbing trembling hands against each other, I pace. My gaze flicks to the open doorway every few seconds, hoping to see Reid materialize from nowhere. He promised to help. He looked me dead in the eye and said he had the answer.

Stupidly, I believed him.

Tobias glares at his phone. “Tiffany’s a fucking nightmare.”

Distractedly, I mutter, “Dump her.”

“Sis!”

“What?” I spin to face Jasper. He’s gaping at me. “Oh, come on. You know it, and I know it. Everyone fucking knows Tiffany is a waste of space.”

Tobias jumps to his feet. “What the hell is your problem?” He takes in my fiery gaze and squared shoulders. “Look at you, you’re itching for a fight. What’s got your panties in a wad?”

As tempting as it is to unleash a day’s worth of pent-up tension, now isn’t the time. My head might be all over the place, but my bandmates’ aren’t. Despite Tiffany being the worst girlfriend of all time, Tobias uses his annoyance to fuel his playing. His drumming is better for it. My anger will only serve to put a rift between us.

I need to get my shit together.

Before I can take back what I said, Jasper stands. “Cool it, you two.”

Tobias furrows his brows, closing the gap between us. “What’s gotten into you?”

The audience cheers the end of the first song.

My throat tightens. Anxiety pricks my skin like thousands of needles.

“Is it Bradley Reading?”

“Um, yeah.” I’m a horrible person.

“Shiloh, you might be a bitch sometimes, but you’re a bitch that can sing. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

I’d laugh if I could. “Thanks.” I lick my dry lips, then add, “And I’m sorry for what I said.”

He nods, wary. His gaze flicks over my shoulder, and shock registers on his face. “Reid. What are you doing here, man? Don’t let Vivienne see you. She’ll have your ass.”

“She can try.”

His deep voice has tingles freefalling down my spine. Butterfly wings tickle my lungs, and goose bumps pepper my skin. Slowly, I turn.

Worn Converse shoes, dark jeans, tan belt, and a black tank. Reid’s muscular shoulders and sleeve tattoos are visible, making him appear larger, more intimidating than before.

He sucks all the air from the room, replacing it with crackly energy. I try not to let it affect me, but don’t know how.

When our eyes meet, the greenroom, the roar of the crowd, the band, everything fades into silence. There’s nothing but him and me. Our painful history never happened, and the future is irrelevant. We exist for now.

“You ready?” His words break the spell.

Heartbreak.

Competition.

Phobia.

Like a landslide, it all comes crashing back. Blinking, I look away, sucking in a sharp breath.

Tobias glances between Reid and me, confused. “Are you guys going somewhere?”

I can sense Reid’s stare; it scorches me. “Um, yeah.”

“But we’re meant to be on stage soon.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Shiloh, you can’t be fucking serious—”

“I said, I won’t be long.” Then, because I hate the hurt in my best friend’s eyes, I soften my tone. “Okay?”

Tobias shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “Yeah. Whatever.”

Reid indicates to the hallway. “Let’s go.”

I hate leaving Tobias like this. I’m not Tiffany; I don’t want him to feel worthless. But for the sake of our band, I have to go.

Without a backward glance, I leave.

Chapter Twenty

After numerous twists and turns, we descend a flight of stairs before stepping through a heavy wooden door. It slams shut. The temperature in the room is at least ten degrees cooler.

I shiver, rubbing my arms to keep warm.

Reid hits the light switch, and a single globe flickers to life.

Dozens of large metal kegs are placed neatly in one corner. The other corner is taken up with casks of white wine and… that’s it. Apart from the globe, that’s all there is. There’s not even a window. Just a whole heap of alcohol, Reid, and me.

Confusion morphs into annoyance. “This is your brilliant idea?” I gesture to the beer kegs. “To get me drunk?”

The corner of Reid’s lip twitches. A foreboding sense of danger slithers from behind his smirk. “In a way.”

“Have you thought this through at all?” Pulse hammering in my ears, I place my hands on my hips. “I can’t go on stage drunk. I’m uncoordinated enough as it is.” I gesture to a keg. “I’ll put someone in ER if I tap into one of those.” Shaking my head, I mutter, “This is bad.”

Without warning, I’m pushed against the wall. My arms are pinned above my head, and Reid’s calculating stare, like his hands, holds me in place.

“I’m going to get you drunk,” he growls, “on my fingers, body, cock.”

Each thump of my heart thunders against my rib cage.

“By the time I’m finished with you,” his free hand grazes my neck, “you’ll have no room in your head for anything except me.” His deft fingers caress my exposed collarbone.

I bite my bottom lip, confused and aroused.

Reid’s eyes drop to my mouth. “There’ll be no freak-outs, no nervousness, no fear. Nothing.” His thumb releases my lip from beneath my teeth, pupils dilating to a fathomless black. “Just me.”

It’s always you, I want to cry. Can’t you see that? This is going to tear me apart even more.

I don’t say a word.

He cups my face with his free hand. “But I’m warning you, nothing has changed. We’re not together, and I haven’t forgiven you. If you read too much into this, it ends. Understand?”

Silent, I gaze at the man who owns my soul, wondering if he’ll ever offer me his again. The word end loops in my mind. It’s a warning to keep going. No matter how much being close to Reid will hurt, I don’t want to push him away again. I can’t. The thought of losing him forever is a wound that will never heal.

“Well?” Reid raises an eyebrow.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I understand. No feelings,” I lie.

His eyes dart between mine, gaging the sincerity within them.

Needing to distract him from the obvious truth, I ask, “Why are you doing this?”

For the longest time, Reid stares at me. I think he’ll never answer, but eventually, he growls, “Because I can.” Dipping his head, he claims my mouth.

Chapter Twenty-One

Reid’s kiss is punishing, brutal, incredible. His tongue robs my mouth, claiming territory and stealing spoils.

I let him. He can do whatever the hell he wants because I’m his.

His hand tightens around my wrists in warning. “These don’t move. Understand?”

I nod, our lips brushing with the movement. My skin comes alive as his fingers trail down my arm.

Reid grips the collar of my fitted T-shirt. With a grunt, he yanks the material under my breasts. His large hands cup, mold, and knead them with an expert touch. “Fuck, I’ve missed these tits,” he groans.

I’ve missed you.

He pinches my nipples through my thin lace bra. Warmth floods my center as his hands soothe the smarting ache. “I want to come all over them.”

Yes, mark me as yours, I silently plead.

Reid’s hands skim my rib cage and stomach. They splay against my hips, shifting my lower body away from the wall and grinding it against his hard cock.

I’d forgotten how big he is. How thick. How he bends slightly to the left. Even through the material of his jeans and my own skintight black pants, I can distinguish every inch. He feels so perfect, I hate myself a little more for leaving him the way I did. “Reid.”

He flicks open the button of my pants. “Yeah, darlin’?”

“I need you.”

“I know.” He tugs down the zipper and thrusts his fingers inside me.

Head back, eyes closed, I open my legs.

Reid separates my folds, coating them in my juices before circling my clit. The pressure skirts the precipice of pleasure and pain. I cry out.

Another thrust.

“Holy shit. Reid.”

“You like that?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

Hooking his fingers, he zeros in on my G-spot. “Good.”

He massages it until I can literally see stars. Pleasure-filled fronds unravel at the base of my spine, budding, growing, spreading through my limbs.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Reid’s thumb circles my swollen clit while his fingers thrust inside me.

My legs tremble.

“You want to clamp down on my fingers.”

“I’m almost—”

“You want to soak them with your cum.”

“Oh fuck, I’m going to—”

“Don’t you dare come.” He pulls away.

My eyes shoot open. “What?!”

Reid brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. His other hand slips into my back pocket, grabbing my phone.

“Hey.” I move to take it back.

“Don’t move.”

Chest heaving and eyes darting every which way, I shift back to the wall.

“Keep your hands above your head.”

Gritting my teeth, I do as he says.

“What’s your passcode?”

In clipped tones, I tell him.

Reid types something into my phone. “I’m setting an alarm.”

“The fuck?”

After placing the phone on a keg a couple of feet away, he pins me with a heated stare. “You’re going to stay where you are. You’re not going to move an inch until you hear—” He tests the alarm. “—that sound.”

I’m about to tell him where he can shove the motherfucking alarm when he prowls toward me.

Pressing a finger directly onto my swollen clit, he warns, “You’re not going to touch yourself.”

Unashamedly, I rub against him as desire crests once more.

“Once you hear the alarm, tidy yourself up and get your ass on stage. No detours, no conversation, nothing.” He bites my bottom lip. “So help me, if you even think about touching this pussy….” An index finger taps my clit.

“What will happen?” I breathe.

His eyes see through my every protective shield. “You’ll be on your own.”

Dread swallows me, pulling me deep into a black, bottomless well. He can’t leave me, not when I need him most. “Don’t. Please.” My voice is a broken whisper. I hate how feeble it sounds. “I’ll behave.”

Reid’s nostrils flare. “Good girl.” He kisses me. Hard. Leaning back slightly, he gestures over his shoulder. “The door will lock behind me. No one can get inside this room once I leave.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod.

“Do you trust me?”

Pausing, I consider his question. If it were coming from the boy who taught me how to skate, how to fish, how to pin my brother to the ground and twist one arm behind his back, the answer would be an unequivocal yes. But this man is a stranger to me.

I shake my head. “No.”

Reid watches me, his jaw tight. Eventually, he nods. “Good answer.” With a final lick of his finger, he leaves.

Stupidly, I wait.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Clasping the mic, I throw my head back as the final note reverberates through the arena. My voice is strong, resonant, so fucking on point, I want to keep singing for the sheer joy of it. Sadly, we can’t, since we only get one chance to perform each week.

Dirty guitar riffs bleed into silence. And then, pandemonium. The crowd yells, screams, stomps its feet, and chants our name.

“Thank you,” I call, my hand raised in devil horns.

The boys and I give one last wave before walking off stage.

My steps are shaky, but I’m hoping everyone is too buzzed to notice.

The moment we enter the greenroom, Jasper pulls me in for a hug. “Sis, that was awesome!”

“Can’t breathe,” I gasp.

He squeezes tighter before letting go. I manage to take a deep breath before Tobias envelops me in a tangle of arms.

“You owned that stage.” He pulls back, grinning. Long fingers ruffle my hair. “You were on fire.”

“Yeah.” Jasper nods. “You sang like you wanted to throat-punch someone. It was epic.”

He’s right. I sang like a woman possessed. After Reid left, arousal slowly turned into irritation, and irritation transformed into anger. Soon enough, rather than focusing on wanting to get myself off, I channeled my frustration by screaming through the mic.

“Ms. Stirling.”

Spinning around, I come face to face with Vivienne.

I think she’s smiling. “You did better than I expected. Well done.”

Still high from my performance, I let the backhanded compliment go. “Thank you.”

With a jewel-adorned flick of her wrist, Vivienne gestures to the man beside her. “I want you to meet someone. This is—”

Tobias gasps.

I raise an eyebrow at him, but he’s too fixated on the bearded man to notice.

Deciding one of us needs to show some damn manners, I hold out my hand to the stranger. “You must be Mr. Reading.”

Nodding, he shakes it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” My gaze flicks to my brother.

He’s staring at the music producer, mouth wide open.

“Isn’t it, Jasper?” I nudge him in the ribs.

Jasper clears his throat. “Um, yeah. Hey, man.”

Christ, this is awkward

“How’s it going?” Bradley asks.

My best friend nods. “Good. Really, ah, good. Thanks.”

With an expert gaze, the producer takes us all in.

We’re covered in a sheen of perspiration, and our clothes stick to us like a second skin. But we’re happy.

“You put on a good show tonight. Your sound is tight, and I’m digging the unique riffs you’ve got going on.”

My chest swells with pride. Beside me, my bandmates stand taller.

“Vivienne has been showing me the feedback on social media. Your future in this competition looks very promising. I hope to see a lot more from you.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” I smile, a massive weight lifting from my shoulders. If Reading sees our potential, then maybe we could take out the title?

Win a recording contract.

Live our dream.

The boys and I have been tirelessly working toward this for years. Since high school, we’ve prioritized our band over everything else. And finally, the hours spent crafting, playing, and perfecting our sound could reap the ultimate reward—making a life from music.

Reading grins before turning to Vivienne. “I need to make some phone calls.”

“Of course.” With a dismissive wave in our direction, she shepherds him out of the greenroom.

As soon as they’re gone, I turn to my bandmates. “Holy fuck. Did you hear that?”

Jasper’s eyes are shining. “We’re going to take out Rising Star. Even Reading seems to think so.”

Tobias rakes his hand through his hair, bewildered.

Anticipation trickles through my limbs, warming me from the inside out. For the first time, there’s no anxiety following it. Instead, excitement has me looking at this contest differently.

I’m ready for the future.

I’ll make it my bitch.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I loved your song last night.” Willow’s smile is genuine.

“Thanks.” Closing my eyes, I let the sun warm my face. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shoreline is a lullaby I never tire of. “God, I love the beach almost as much as music, and that’s saying something.”

“I know what you mean.”

Blinking, I sift warm sand through my fingers. “Is it weird, both of us being in the same competition?”

She stares at me. “Not unless you want it to be.”

“I really don’t.”

“Good. Me neither.” The corner of her lips twitch. “My band’s going to win, though.”

I snort, nudging her shoulder. “Never going to happen. But you keep dreaming, Wil.”

She throws her head back, laughing.

We’re quiet for a while, taking in the picturesque surroundings. The small cove is empty except for us. There are no pasty tourists, no screaming kids, no gray-eyed drummers threatening to leave me.

I shake my head.

The ocean is a sparkling turquoise and the sand a blinding white. Fluffy clouds meander across an otherwise clear sky as a light breeze drifts off the Pacific. I’ve got no reason to ruin it with what I can’t change.

Willow turns to me. “Are you working today?”

“Nope. Day off.” Stretching my arms above my head, I inhale. “Thank fuck.”

“Why do you stay there if you hate it so much?”

On my exhale, my arms drift back to my lap. “The money is good and the hours are regular. It’s not like I’m going to stay there forever.” I grin. “And once my band wins the recording contract, I’ll never have to look at another sprinkle again.”

Willow chuckles.

“When are you guys competing?”

“Later in the week.”

“Are you nervous?”

She considers my question. “Not really. When I’m on stage, I get this sense of freedom. It’s like I’m meant to be there, you know?”

Sometimes.

Willow clears her throat. “Reid had a killer rehearsal last night. You should have seen the way he was punishing his kit.” She raises an eyebrow, urging me to take the bait.

I shrug, refusing to bite. “Maybe he thought Bradley Reading was going to drop in?”

“No, I don’t think that was it.”

I don’t want to talk about me and Reid. Mainly because I have no idea where we stand. We’re not friends, but we’re not enemies either. We’re in this strange purgatory where the lines are so blurred, I’m starting to wonder why they’re there at all.

Picking up a shell, I turn it over in my palm.

“It’s so different these days,” Willow sighs. “Nothing is like it used to be. We were tight, remember? You, me, Reid, Tobias, Drake, and Jasper.” Her voice softens. “I get that we drifted apart as we got older, but you never mention Reid, and the moment someone brings you up in conversation, he does this weird thing with his jaw.”

“Is he still grinding his teeth?”

She nods. “What happened between you two?”

My grip on the shell tightens. The sharp edges dig into my palm. “It’s a long story, so I’ll give you the abridged version. Like you said, we were close. But I ruined it, and now he hates me. The end.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

I think back to his punishing lips, his demanding hands, his filthy words. “The guy I knew is gone.”

Willow shakes her head. “You’ve got it all wrong.” She turns to face me. “Last night after rehearsal, the band went back to my place. We do that most nights, since I record each episode of Rising Star.”

Unable to meet her piercing stare, I gaze at the water.

“Reid never took his eyes off you. Not once. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was….” She pauses. “Really intense.”

Splinters of my heart pierce my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“I think Reid still wants you,” she murmurs.

As much as I wish she was speaking the truth, I know better. Reid made it clear he doesn’t want me falling for him. Impossible, since my feelings never stopped. Even when I said goodbye, I left a part of me with him. He might not accept that he has it, but it’s there.

The problem with loving someone too much is the inevitable hurt it causes. And though I left to protect him, the ache in my chest says otherwise.

I want him back.

He doesn’t want me.

What a cruel irony.

But I’ll pretend, if that’s what he wants. I’ll make it seem like my body wasn’t made for his touch and my soul doesn’t mourn its other half. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him close.

No matter how much it kills me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Glancing over my shoulder, I smirk at Jasper and Tobias. “Finally. We thought you were never going to get here.”

Jasper kicks sand on my legs before collapsing next to me. “Your message said you were at a different beach. We’ve been driving for fucking ages trying to find you.”

I don’t bother covering my grin. “Oops.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

Tobias places his cooler nearby. Rubbing his hands together, he grins. “Well, isn’t this like the old days? All we need is Reid and Drake….” His gaze shifts past me.

I follow his line of sight and my heart pauses, then beats in triple time.

Reid and fellow bandmate Drake amble toward us. Though Drake’s black hair, chiseled cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes have women dropping their panties left, right, and center, my eyes don’t linger. They shift to his friend.

He’s beautiful.

Dark board shorts hang loosely off Reid’s narrow hips, the elastic of his boxer briefs peeking through the waistband. His tan skin glistens in the afternoon sun, the tattoos decorating his upper body a moving piece of art. Abs, pecs, and biceps ripple as he walks. I’m transfixed by the way they expand and contract in time with each step.

Willow’s pointed cough snaps me from my daze.

Annoyed at being caught, I look away. “You invited them?”

“Yeah. And I saw the way you looked at him just now. Say whatever you want, Shiloh, but you want him just as much as he wants you. You’re both too stubborn to admit it, that’s all.”

I’m about to argue when Reid places his cooler next to Tobias’s.

“Hey.”

Jasper stands. “Reid, good to see you again.”

They man-hug it out.

Not knowing what to do or say, I remain where I am, silent.

Tobias, Willow, and Drake murmur greetings while beers are passed around.

I glare at Tobias when he settles two cans in the sand beside him. He doesn’t meet my stare.

“Why are you ignoring Reid?” Willow whispers in my ear.

I shrug.

“You’re making it weird.”

“No, I’m not. You’re the one making a big deal out of it.”

Her forehead crinkles in confusion. “I don’t get it. You left him, so why are you playing the victim?”

Air is squeezed from my lungs.

“Shiloh?”

Fuck, my heart hurts.

It’s agony saying the words, but I know I have to. “I loved him too much, Wil. It would have been the end of him if I stayed, and I couldn’t risk it. Everything I touched, I ruined. Remember?” Throat tight, I try to clear it. “Now, can we drop it? Please?”

Willow takes my hand. “What happened to your parents wasn’t your fault. It was a freak accident.”

Tendrils of hair drift over my shoulder from the ocean breeze. I barely notice. I’m too busy trying not to cry. “Please, Wil. I can’t. Not now.”

She squeezes my hand at the exact moment Reid reaches for his djembe.

“Holy shit, man. Have you still got that thing?” Jasper raises his eyebrows. He turns to me. “When did we buy that for him, sis? Five, six years ago?”

I retract my fingers from beneath Willow’s. “Five. Just after….” I glance at Reid. “Just after you tore your ACL.”

His eyes are dark and pinned on me. The African drum is small in his hands. Distractedly, he caresses the frayed ropes on the sides.

I look away.

“That’s right.” My brother nods. “We wanted to get you something to keep you busy while you were resting up after surgery.” He chuckles. “It wiped out our savings, didn’t it, sis?”

My smile is bittersweet.

Jasper pauses. “Hang on, isn’t that how you started drumming?”

“Yeah.”

Unbidden, my gaze lands on Reid once more.

He’s grinning at my brother. One corner of his mouth quirks higher than the other. “Sure was.”

“I remember now.” Tobias gestures to the djembe. “You used to take it with you everywhere.”

Willow grimaces at the worn skin. “By the looks of it, you still do.”

“How does it sound?” Jasper asks.

“Like a motherfucking dream.” His long, tattooed fingers draw soulful beats from the instrument.

Somehow, I sip my beer, compose my features, and don’t let on that I’m so fucking broken, I fear I’ll shatter into pieces. Glancing at my white knuckles, I exhale. “Jesus.”

He’s playing my song.

I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw myself into the ocean and hope a riptide drags me out to sea.

I try to feign nonchalance, and ignore the rhythmic beat casting its hypnotic spell, but I can’t. Sound flows through me.

Unbidden, I hum the accompanying tune.

Beside me, words are whispered. “Kids,” “always arguing,” and “apology,” filter through my subconscious, but I’m too lost in the music to care.

This rhythm always comforted me. When Reid played it, a sense of calm wrapped itself around me like a cashmere blanket. No matter how childish my reaction, or how jerk-like his attitude, we always found our way back through music.

I sing.

For the first time since hearing this beat, I put words to the heartache. And they fall one after the other, a river of memories spilling from a previously locked vault.

Laughter, grazed knees, and sweet kisses. Awkward smiles, petty fights, and shared ice cream. Promises made, tears shed, and tomorrows lost.

First love.

Blind trust, holding hands, and inflicting hurt. Endless summers, starry nights, and wailing cries. Trembling caresses, stifled giggles, and cold silence.

Heartbreak.

The absorbing beat continues and still the words tumble. Hurt upon hurt bleeds from me until my body is hollow, empty, and tender.

It’s not until the final bars fade that I realize Reid and I are staring at one another.

In the dusk, I notice the gentleness in his gaze. It reminds me of everything I’ve lost.

Tears build.

Standing, I brush sand from my shorts. With hasty movements, I collect my beach towel and bag. “It’s been a long day. I should go.”

Spinning on my heel, I stumble through the soft sand, berating myself for my idiocy.

I showed weakness.

I crumbled like a fool.

I told Reid I missed him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Get your ass out of bed.”

Yanking the blanket over my head, I curse.

“Shiloh?”

I burrow under my pillow.

“Why are you hiding?”

Throwing back the covers, I glare at Tobias. “I’m not hiding. I’m tired.” The light is blinding. With a groan, I cover my face with my forearm. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Your brother called. He said he tried to wake you, but you yelled at him.” I can sense him smiling. “Jasper is already at Rising Star. We need to practice, so come on. Let’s go.”

The bedcovers are ripped from my body. Scrambling into sitting position, I scowl. “Seriously?”

He smirks.

“Give me back my blanket.”

“Nah, I prefer pissing you off more.”

He climbs into bed and lies down, sprawling next to me.

Crossing my arms, I lift an eyebrow. “Comfortable?”

“Very. Come here.” With one arm, he draws me to his side.

Grudgingly, I relax into his hold. His scent is familiar, and the beating of his pulse is comforting. It’s everything I need to ease the ball of anxiety that settled in my stomach yesterday.

“Love you. You know that, right?”

Propping my chin on his chest, I take in Tobias’s soulful green eyes. “Of course. I never doubted it.”

My best friend stares at me, his features soft. After a moment, he blinks and clears his throat. “You’re running away from what happened last night, aren’t you?”

“Nothing happened.”

“There was a vibe between you and Reid.” He stares at the ceiling and swallows. “Everyone felt it. Even you.”

“Reid hates me.”

Tobias gives me a pointed stare. “You don’t actually believe the words coming out of your mouth, do you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He props a hand behind his head. “The man couldn’t keep his eyes off you. I’d bet fifty bucks he was imagining you naked the entire time.”

“You’re as bad as Willow. She was trying to tell me the same thing yesterday.”

“Well, she’s right.” He’s silent for a moment. “I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully.”

Preparing myself for God-knows-what, I nod.

“Reid isn’t good for you. You need to stay away from him.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Tobias rolls onto his side. “I’m serious. Don’t get too close to him, okay?”

Searching his face, I try to find the meaning behind his words. “What are you talking about?”

“You fucked him over.”

No matter how many times I think it or hear it spoken, a part of me wilts.

Tobias tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m guessing you had your reasons.” He plays with the ends. “But he’s got every reason to hurt you and our band. You need to be smart about this. Don’t give him the chance to get inside your head.”

Slipping from his hold, I sit up. “I know you’re looking out for me, but it’s not as easy as you think.”

“Yeah, it is. Steer clear of him. Simple.”

I glance over my shoulder. “Reid is helping me with something, with an issue.”

“What issue?”

Looking away, I murmur, “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Tobias’s tone hardens. “Why do you keep hiding shit from me?”

“I’m not, I—”

He growls, getting out of bed. Striding to the window, he pauses, turns, and plants hands on his hips. “I can handle it. Tell me.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You’re not. You’re using my mistake as an excuse not to trust me.”

Clambering off the bed, I follow him. “Mistake? Tobias, you refused to speak to us. You turned into a goddamn shadow. You started selling your drums, drank all the damn time, turned into someone totally different.” A tide of anguish crashes into me. “When you tried to kill yourself….” As I relive finding his body crumpled on the bathroom floor, a sense of hopelessness takes over.

“Whatever.”

Clutching his face, my fingers dig into his cheeks. “Don’t downplay your suicide attempt. Ever. Apart from Jasper, you’re the most important person in my life.” I take a small step forward. “Look, I might keep some stuff from you, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, and it sure as fuck doesn’t mean I’m letting anyone else get inside my head.”

We fall silent for the longest time, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only evidence of the tumultuous turmoil beneath.

Tobias is the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry I put you through hell.”

He pulls me into a tight hug. His hand rubs small circles on my lower back, trying to ease the anguish but not quite managing it.

“It was a dark time, but I’m getting better. You need to trust me on this. You need to let me in again, please.”

Shutting my eyes, I force the memory back. “I’m trying.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

After stepping inside the warehouse, I pause.

The photography crew members dart this way and that. Some are setting up lights, others are testing equipment. Stylists and makeup artists impatiently wait with outfits and brushes on hand. The warehouse is thriving with energy.

I’m not feeling the buzz.

Slowly, I take in burned-out remains of a muscle car. Surrounding it are rusted forty-four-gallon drums and chain-link fences. I squint. “Is that a fire pit?”

Jasper nods. “Looks like it.”

“Jesus Christ.” My heels echo on the cracked concrete as I inspect the ridiculous set. “I can’t stand next to open flames. Stephanie used a ton of chemicals on my hair, I’ll combust.”

Jasper’s too busy admiring the vehicle to take any notice.

“I can’t do this.”

Exasperated, he turns to me. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird for days.”

He’s right. Since speaking with Tobias, I’ve been on edge. I don’t want to upset my best friend by spending time with Reid. But I don’t want to ruin my band’s chances and ignore his help, either. I’m stuck in the middle of crossfire with no way out. It’ll only be a matter of time before someone gets hurt, and I don’t want it to be either of them.

There’s no way I can explain it to Jasper. It’ll only cause more questions I don’t have the answers for.

Sighing, I rub my forehead. “Look, we’re a kickass band. Of course I want people to know who we are. And a photo shoot is a perfect way to do it. But why do stylized poses, artificial lighting, and a goddamn smoke machine need to be involved?”

“There’s a smoke machine?” His eyes light with excitement.

Dropping my hand, I groan. “There’s always a fucking smoke machine.” Blocking out the ridiculousness of the situation, I gather my thoughts. “Jasper, if we do this, Vivienne’s going to turn us into a cliché.”

My brother levels me with a flat stare. “Do you want a recording contract with Ironbank?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Do you want to make a living playing music?”

“Of course.”

“Do you want to travel the word selling out stadiums?”

My throat tightens. “Uh-huh.”

“Then shut up.”

I grip the sleeve of his top and give it a shake. “Why can’t it be about the music? It’s why we started playing, isn’t it? Our clothes, hair, none of this means shit. We can’t lose sight of who we are.”

Jasper detaches me and loops an arm around my shoulders. He pulls me into a side hug. “We won’t, but we need to play the game. Our sound will be priority after we win Rising Star.” With a quick squeeze, he releases me. “Until then, we don’t have any other options.”

My patent leather heels scuff the concrete. “It sucks when you’re right.”

“Speak for yourself.” With a grin, he nudges me with his shoulder.

The warehouse door opens, and a slice of blinding light illuminates the floor.

Blinking, I lift my gaze, my eyes widening when I see who it is. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

It feels like the ground opened up and I’m falling. My stomach lurches, and my pulse pounds to the erratic rhythm of my heart.

Jasper follows my line of sight. He rubs his hands together. “They’re here. I was wondering when they were going to show.”

I want to cover up this ridiculous outfit, wash the makeup off, and run a million miles in the opposite direction.

But I can’t.

My feet won’t move, my mind, though whirling, is full of empty noise, and the pain behind my ribs robs me of breath.

Reid’s band is here.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Willow and Drake meander over, smiles lighting up their faces when they see Jasper and me.

I try to do the same. Only, my expression is so brittle, I’m worried it’ll snap.

As always, Reid is wearing dark clothes. His worn jeans and studded belt fit his muscular form perfectly. A black Henley molds to his muscles, emphasizing his strong stature.

Need shoots directly to my core.

Thoughts of being pinned against the wall with him pressed between my parted legs flood my subconscious. His perverted fingers, dirty words, and filthy mouth make it hard to rationalize my growing need.

Reid’s gaze flicks to me. Leisurely, deliberately, he scans my body. He takes in the stiletto heels, skintight leather pants, and black corset with lace trim. A flicker of annoyance crosses his features as he skims the swell of my breasts. And when it lands on my cleavage, his shoulders tense. The muscles strain against the fabric of his T-shirt, forcing it to stretch further over his broad frame.

I want to ask what he’s thinking. Whether the slash of his eyebrows is because of me or the role I’m forced to play. I want to know if we’ll ever rid ourselves of the masks we have to wear and talk like we used to. I hate the secrets, regrets, and half-truths forcing us apart. I want to admit how much he means to me because I’m tired of pretending my world doesn’t revolve around him.

No words come out.

He looks away, hands flexing, and my body slumps forward, as though cut from a tight string.

Alone again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Shiloh, I need you to turn your head to the right.”

I attempt to follow the photographer’s instructions.

“More.”

I shift.

“More.”

And again.

“No, I—” The photographer lowers her camera and rubs her temple. “I want you staring into the distance. Now, you can’t do that if you’re shooting daggers at your brother.”

It’s hard to bite my tongue when Jasper and Tobias are grumbling about my awkwardness. I roll my head from side to side, loosening taut neck muscles.

I am trying.

As much as I hate this fucking situation, I’m shifting my legs, head, and arms where she tells me without a single complaint.

“I want you to turn to the right, not—” Quinn stops. “You know what? Let’s try something different.” She motions for me to follow. “Walk with me.”

Once we’re in the corner of the warehouse, she crosses her arms. “You hate this, don’t you?”

“Yep.” No use pretending otherwise.

“Okay.” She tips her head, thinking.

“Look, I don’t want to make your job more difficult, but….” I sigh.

“What?”

“This,” I gesture to my outfit, “isn’t me. And that isn’t either.” I point to the flaming vehicle. “It’s what society thinks a rock band is all about. For the sake of my band, I’ll do this shoot, but it’s not my scene.”

She nods, considering me. “What is your scene, then?”

I lick my bottom lip. “That’s just it. It’s not about ‘scenes,’ it’s about music. It all comes down to the raw power of hitting a note just right.” Instinctively, I stare over her shoulder, my eyes finding Reid.

The familiar guilt-ridden memories twist into stifling knots. I try to speak through the pain. “Music is about bringing people together and tearing them apart. It’s about passion, longing.”

He glances up from his conversation with Drake, immobilizing me with his stare.

I blink.

He blinks.

I inhale.

He inhales.

“That. Right there.” Quinn points to my face, jumping up and down in excitement. “That’s what I want to capture on camera. Look at you.” With a critical eye, she scans my body. “Body soft, yet formidable. Gaze proud, yet remorseful. This is the Shiloh the music world needs to see.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

“Think of a song.”

“What?”

“One of your songs. Which comes to mind first?”

“Confessions.”

“Perfect.” Turning, she calls for my bandmates.

Minutes later, they’re crowded around me. Directions are given, and we do our best to follow them.

Quinn picks up her camera, circling us, searching for the perfect angle.

One of the crew shoves a mic in my hands and turns on the amp.

“Sing,” the photographer demands.

Shutting my eyes, I focus solely on the opening bars of the song I wrote while my heart was stripped to pieces and my soul was torn apart. My body sways in time with the music in my head, the rhythm flowing through the center in my bones. Raising the mic to my mouth, I tip my head back and sing.

Finally, the world makes sense.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Still riding high from my song, I relax outside, leaning against the warehouse wall. Gazing at the stars, a satisfied smile crosses my face.

The boys left a while ago. Tobias, to spend time with Tiffany, and Jasper, to get laid. Since I don’t have to work, I took my time getting changed, taming my hair, and washing off the layers of makeup.

I’ve got the whole night ahead of me. With freedom comes an intoxicating sense of euphoria.

The entrance opens, then closes, and a familiar, purposeful tread moves toward me.

I don’t need to turn my head to imagine how the moonlight makes his expression otherworldly. He’s a god amongst mortals. And rather than detract from his beauty, the shadows serve to enhance it. They emphasize where the light hits his cheekbones and rugged jawline. Where the clothing clings to his muscular build.

“Hey,” I murmur.

“Hey.” Reid’s voice flows through me like the rich tenor of my acoustic guitar.

He takes my hand. His large palm is rough yet warm as his long fingers slip between mine. Not wanting to let on how much he affects me, I stay quiet.

“Let’s go.”

At his instruction, I fall into step beside him, matching his long strides. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Despite being in the industrial part of town, we turn a corner and descend a narrow set of stairs nestled between two ramshackle factories.

I’m brought back to what happened in the cellar and, releasing my hand from his hold, stop part of the way down.

Reid glances over a broad shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“You remember what happened last time, right?”

“I’ve already apologized for that.”

“No, you haven’t.”

A warning flashes through his eyes before they lock onto my lips. “Yes, I have.”

“You might have played my song on the djembe, but you never said you were sorry.” Don’t you see? my head pleads. I need more than a memory.

Reid faces me fully.

Despite him standing on the step below, I still have to crane my neck to meet his gaze.

He grabs a handful of my loose hair, wraps it around his fist, and tugs. “You’re not calling the shots here.”

“Apologize,” I breathe, desire flooding my center.

Heat mixed with torment wars in his expression. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

“You too.” More than you know.

“Whenever your eyes are on me, it’s like a knife is shoved between my ribs. It digs and twists every fucking time.” He tips my head back until our lips brush. “Stop it.”

“Never.” The words pass my lips before I can force them back. “They’ll always find you, even if I don’t want them to.”

Growling, he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down. “I’m sorry for the way I left things at Rising Star.”

“And for avoiding me afterward.”

He releases it, licking away the sting. “Don’t test me, woman. You know what I’m capable of.”

I do.

A love so consuming I crushed it the first chance I got.

A betrayal so painful I never deserve forgiveness.

An echo inside my chest where he stole a part of me and refused to give it back.

“I know exactly what you’re capable of, Reid.”

His large hands circle my hips. Strong fingers dig into my flesh, branding me with their bruising touch.

We stare at each other for a long time. The air grows heavy with unspoken accusations.

Reid breaks the silence, his voice anguished. “Why’d you do it?” The slight break in his voice is my undoing.

Clamping my eyes shut, I murmur. “Please, I—”

“You fucked up.”

“I know.” It’s difficult talking through my tears. “And I’ll never forgive myself for what I did. But I had to, don’t you see?”

“No, I fucking don’t, because you never told me.” Tearing himself away, he turns.

The distance between us grows.

I want to bridge it, I’m desperate for the connection we used to share. For a split second, I consider telling him the truth. That the real reason I left is because I love him to the point where it terrifies me. Relationships end, they all do. My parents’ deaths and Tobias’s suicide attempt are testament to that. People are torn from us when we least expect it, leaving gaping wounds and broken memories behind. So, rather than wait for inevitable destruction, I ended it with the man who owns every atom of my being. Naively, I thought it would let Reid live the life he deserves, while setting my paralyzing trepidation free.

It didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I call to his retreating back.

He mutters under his breath, disappearing inside.

Chapter Thirty

With a heavy heart, I follow Reid.

The room we enter is long and narrow. Dim lights appear every few feet on the exposed red brick walls, casting just as much shadow as light. Low lamps are placed on each corner of the bar and on top of circular tables skirting the edges of the space. A stage set up by the north wall is complete with rock band, state-of-the-art mixing desk, and lighting rig.

Then it hits me.

“Oh, shit.” Writhing bodies are crammed into the small room. My ribs constrict, suffocating me. “I can’t do this.”

Reid pulls me in close, his jaw tight. “Yes. You. Can.”

Perspiration trickles down my spine as I shake my head. “But—”

“I’m getting sick of your excuses. You keep telling me why you can’t do shit and why your life is so fucking hard.” Reid brushes the strands from my face, his touch firm. “But you don’t say a damn thing about why you need to try.”

Trembling, and weak at the knees, I try to take it all in. The combination of his skin pressed against mine, people nearby, and the challenge issued is overwhelming. “You don’t understand. You’re fearless. You face every challenge like a fucking gladiator. I’m trying to do it too, but it’s a slow process. Overcoming a phobia isn’t easy.”

Reid’s hands cup my cheeks, grounding me. “I never said it was. But everything worth fighting for has a price.” He tips his head to one side. “The question is, what are you going to sacrifice?” Tipping his chin, he indicates the crowd.

Nerves simmer in my bones.

“What’ll it be, darlin’?”

Not knowing what to do or how to answer, I bite the inside of my lip until the metallic tang of blood trickles into my mouth.

“Will it be singing?”

Unconsciously, my brow furrows. “Of course not. Singing is my life.”

Thinking back on everything leading up to this moment only confirms it. Being thrown out of our rehearsal studio when band practice went past closing time. Feeling so exhausted at school I fell asleep in math. Sneaking into pubs underage and getting paid jack shit for kickass performances. Being rejected by countless recording studios because our sound was too rock, too grunge, or too heavy. Getting a job in a doughnut shop, where rainbow fucking sprinkles are showered on me like confetti whenever I reach my sales target.

There’s no way I’m giving up my place in this contest.

“Then what are you going to do?” Reid dares.

Inhaling a deep breath, I hold it until my lungs beg for release. “I’m going into the mosh pit.”

Satisfied with my response, he nods, the corner of his mouth quirking.

I almost miss what he says next because I’m too fixated on it. Reid hasn’t smiled at me in forever. And though it’s not fully fledged, the possibility of it widening has feathers tickling my insides.

“That’s my girl.” Reid leads me into the crowd.

People are everywhere.

No matter which direction I turn, there are faces, bodies, a wall of flesh pressing against me. “Fuck.”

My mind instinctively casts back to three years ago. The screams, panic, the mad crush to get out of the arena. I remember frantically searching for Reid. He was next to me in the mosh pit, but we were separated once the alarm was raised.

Some people were in serious trouble. No one knew who, why, or where, but everyone wanted to get the fuck out.

I couldn’t breathe. Not knowing where Reid was, or if he was safe, was literally killing me.

“Goddammit.” I’m brought back to the present by a sharp bump from a wayward elbow.

Reid shifts his body, shielding me. “You’re okay. It’s all part of the fun.”

“This isn’t fun, not anymore.” It’s terrifying. People could get hurt. Reid could get hurt.

My knees give way.

“Whoa.” Reid catches me, pulling me upright. “I’ve got you.”

I can barely hear his voice over my thundering heartbeat, heaving breaths, and stifled cries. No matter the façade I put on earlier, I want out of this situation.

Tears rain down my cheeks. They drip onto my collarbone before soaking into the fabric of my top.

“Look at me.” Reid wipes them away with a gentle sweep of his thumbs. “You’re safe.”

I sob.

“You’re safe, darlin’.”

“But what about you?” I don’t even realize I’m gripping his shirt until I tug him closer, needing his warmth to melt the ice in my veins. “You’re not safe. Not in this crowd, and not with me.” Despite them lodging in my throat, I force the words out. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Reid. I can’t lose you again.”

His hold on me tightens. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m here. See?” Dropping his head, his breath brushes past my ear. “I’m right here.”

Struggling against his chest, I try to leave. “We have to get out of here.”

Reid’s stare is unwavering. “One song.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Stay for one song. After that, we’ll go.”

His words, touch, his goddamn scent, swirl with my terror until I can’t tell what to fear. “You could die.”

He pauses. Steel-gray eyes dart between mine, understanding slowly dawning in them. “That’s what this is about,” he says slowly. “The concert. The one where a gunman let loose and there was a mad crush to get out of the stadium.”

With a sniff, I nod. “I thought you were dead. I couldn’t find you, and—”

He bends his knees until we’re eye level. “Darlin’ we found each other outside. I called you, remember? We met up, and I took us back to mine. I held you all night.”

“I know, dammit.” I push against the impenetrable wall of his torso. “The logical side of my brain knows this. But, fuck. The rest of me doesn’t get the memo.”

Straightening, he wraps me in his arms. Reid aligns our bodies until there’s no space left between us.

For the first time since entering the throng, the wave of panic subsides. With it, I expel the demons and soften against his tall frame.

Ducking his head, he rumbles, “Stay with me. I’ll make you forget your fear.”

My fingers clutch the material of his shirt, and need pools in my core. “Are you going to use sex as a distraction again?”

“Do you want me to?”

I don’t respond. Instead, I pull his mouth to mine.

As soon as our mouths connect, Reid takes over. The kiss is deep and deliberate. It’s everything I need to forget.

A slow riff, intricate and layered, sounds in the background. The rhythm guitar kicks in with a dirty melody, followed by the crash of heavy drums. The music is seductive. A perfect metaphor for this moment.

Breaking away, Reid scans my face.

Even though I’m not entirely comfortable in the crowd, my grip loosens.

His fingers cover mine, unclasping my hands from the material before flattening them against his pecs. Sliding them up his body, he links my hands behind his neck, anchoring me there.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Beside me, people shift and move to the hypnotic rhythm of the complex guitar riffs and throaty vocals.

I barely notice.

Reid and I are in our own world.

He slides his hands up my arms. His silver gaze is fixed on mine as his touch skims the sides of my breasts.

I bite my lip trying to hold back my moan.

“Stay in the moment.” His voice is deeper than before. “Focus on me and the music, nothing else.”

It’s not easy. It’s not like I flick a switch and my fear miraculously disappears. It’s still there, simmering beneath the surface. Only, so is my desire.

Reid’s fingers trail over my ribs and along the curve of my hips before splaying across my ass. He inserts his knee between my legs, and I’m thrust forward.

Whoa.

His hands cup my ass, and I stare into his eyes, moving in time with the heavy beat. The friction between my jeans and his all but sends me crashing over the edge right here on the dance floor.

This.

This. Man.

Why did I ever let him go?

Refusing to lament a past I can’t change, I stay in the present.

He pulls me closer.

My eyelids flutter shut.

He bites out a curse.

My head lolls back.

He licks the length of my neck.

My fingers tangle in his hair.

His mouth crashes into mine.

Heaven.

I have no idea how much time passes. I don’t know if the music stops, if people stare, or if an encore begins. I don’t know if stars explode, meteors collide, or planets combust. All I know is, this is where I’m meant to be.

Chapter Thirty-One

Reid’s lips graze mine. “Let’s get out of here.”

The sensual fog lifts.

Dazed, I blink, starting to register the people surrounding us. Despite the heavy music and rhythmic beat echoing through my body, tendrils of panic spread like mist. “Yep, good call. Let’s go. Now.” Grabbing Reid’s hand, I push through the crowd, my gaze locked on the exit.

“Hold up.” I’m spun around. Long fingers clasp my belt hooks, and I’m pulled toward the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Reid skims his knuckles down my cheek. “Are you thirsty? Do you want some water first?”

“No.”

With a deviant smile, he lowers his head until his mouth brushes mine. “Darlin’, I’m going to keep you up all night. You need water first.” His lips skim my neck. When he straightens, he’s grinning.

I freeze.

The affection on his face transports me back to when he always looked at me like this. With trembling fingers, I touch his lips. “There you are.”

“Shiloh?”

I trace his jawline, relishing the sensation of day-old stubble beneath my fingertips. It’s like touching him for the first time.

His mouth parts.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Something sparks, flickers, and is gone, all in the space of a heartbeat. “Don’t.” He shifts out of reach.

My hand drops to my side. “Don’t what?”

“No feelings, remember?”

Hurt soon leads to annoyance. “Then what do you call that, huh?” I point to the crowd. “You felt it. I know you did.”

He squares his shoulders, “Doesn’t matter if I did. It doesn’t change anything.”

He might as well have slapped me.

I stumble backward, tears stinging my eyes. I can’t do this. There are only so many times we can kiss, touch, and succumb to desire before I lose my fucking mind. Unlike Reid, I can’t separate my feelings from my actions. I’m not wired that way. If I touch him, it’s because my soul recognizes its other half. The problem is, I can’t hide it anymore.

Enough.

Drawing on my last reserve, I go to move past him. “We’re done here. You’ve proven your point. I went in the mosh and survived; your distraction methods work.”

“Like hell you are.” He grabs my arm, spinning me to face him. “You’re not going anywhere by yourself.”

Shaking free from his hold, I shoot him a scathing look. “I’m a grown-ass woman. I can look after myself.”

He steps into my space, jaw working hard. “You don’t know this area. It’s not safe.”

“Why do you care? You told me we’re not doing the whole feelings thing. Quit messing with my head.”

Ignoring my outburst, he takes my hand and leads me outside. “I’m driving you. Deal with it.”

Like a fool, I follow him.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The car ride back to my place is silent, awkward, and excruciatingly long. I make a point to stare out the window. But no matter where I look, there’s no escaping the weird vibes between me and Reid.

I won’t let him touch me again.

I can’t handle the turmoil.

When we pull up to the curb outside my place, I murmur, “Thanks,” and scramble from the car. My key is almost in the lock before I’m spun around and pressed against the unopened door.

Reid’s resolute expression makes me falter. Quickly recovering, I tip my chin. “Let me go.”

Strangely, he does. “We’re not done here.”

“Oh, we’re done. There’s no way we’re going to—”

He kisses me.

And damn, if it isn’t the hottest kiss we’ve ever had.

Reid’s lips are firm, searching, insistent. On my gasp, he slips his tongue inside. It teases, tastes, savors my mouth with each stroke. His hands angle my head, creating greater depth, while his hips rock against my stomach.

Dammit, I need him. I crave his body more than air. With grasping hands, I pull him toward me. When I realize what I’m doing, I push him away again. “Reid, no.”

His breathing is labored. “What?”

“You’re giving me vertigo.” I rake my trembling fingers through my hair. “This”—I gesture to the lack of space between us—“is doing my head in. One minute you’re hot for me, the next you’re distancing yourself. You don’t want me to develop feelings, but then you act like you care.” My voice catches, and I hate it. “I want your help with my enochlophobia, and for some fucked-up reason, your idea seems to be working. But I can’t handle the whiplash.”

“Let me make it easy for you, then.” He places his hands on either side of my head. “We’re going to fuck.”

Whispered memories tickle my skin. I ignore them. “No. Fucking will lead to ‘feelings.’” My air quotations are stellar.

Reid’s eyes darken until black pupils take up most of his irises. “I’m going to thrust my hard cock inside that tight pussy of yours until it clamps down, milking every last drop of my cum.”

I open my mouth to refute him, only no words come out.

“Like you said,” Reid continues, his voice a sinful rasp, “my idea is working. Consider this your reward for going into the mosh tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He drops a hand to my waist and yanks my hips forward.

Christ, he’s hard.

Clearing my throat, I try to make sense of the scrambled thoughts. “Let me get this straight. Each time I face my phobia, you’re going to fuck me afterward?”

Reid lifts me until my legs wrap around his narrow waist. Leaning in close, he nuzzles my neck. “Afterward, during. Depends on where we are and if the situation calls for it.”

Tipping my head back, I gaze at the night sky, begging the stars for answers.

We’re not growing closer. This isn’t us lowering our defenses or recreating history. There’s no prince in this story, no princess in an ivory tower, and there sure as shit is no riding off into the sunset.

It’s reality.

This could be a huge mistake. Using Reid as a distraction from my phobia might do nothing but expose past hurts. Walking away from him broke me, and for years I’ve been an empty shell. How is letting the guy inside me going to help?

Either way, I lose. It doesn’t matter if it’s my heart or my soul, it’ll still be torn from my chest.

Sharp teeth nip my skin. “What’s it going to be?”

I consider the paradoxical man who robs me of breath yet breathes new life at the same time. If I go through with this, I’ll break more than I already am. But there’s no other choice because with Reid, it’s elemental. We’re meant to be together.

“Take me inside,” I murmur.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Without wasting any time, Reid takes my keys, unlocks the door, and carries me upstairs. Moments later, my bedroom door slams shut.

He releases my legs, and I slide down his body, every ridge and crevice a slow, sensual torture.

Once my feet hit the wooden floor, he growls, “Naked. Now.”

I comply, if only to drown in the sensation of heat on skin. The connection between us is strong, tangible. It crackles.

His touch traces the exposed skin between my waistband and the raised material of my shirt. The soft fabric whispers against sensitized skin as it is skims my body. It covers my eyes, blinding me. Sheer panic engulfs my belly in flames when the material is left in place.

Reid exhales, muttering a string of curses.

It has me weathering the blaze and standing taller. I even arch my back, daring him to do something, anything.

He doesn’t move.

Instead, he blows cool air onto my nipples. They’re barely contained within the lace of my bra and harden instantly.

The shirt is whipped over my head. Even though the room is dark and the moonlight beaming through the sheer curtains is our only light source, it still takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. When I do, it’s to realize Reid is shirtless, and my shirt is tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

Impulsively, I lean forward and swipe my tongue over the cool metal of his nipple ring. Reid hisses as I cover the piercing with my mouth. The moment my lips kiss skin, memories from the last night we were together flood my subconscious.

Heat.

Breath.

Desire.

Love.

Struck by their intensity, I still. Reid tugs on my hair, forcing me back to the present.

Releasing my new play toy, I gaze into his hooded stare.

He pulls me to him, his lips crashing into mine. “You drive me fucking crazy, but I can’t get enough of you.”

“You’ve got it all backward.” I whimper as his large hands palm my heavy breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“We’re both screwed, then.” Reid yanks the bra down before pinching my nipples.

“Oh God.” My head rolls back.

His fingers pinch harder. “It’s my name you’re going to moan.” His mouth covers one painfully hard peak, licking, sucking, teasing it with his tongue. “No one else. Mine.”

I play with the soft strands of his hair, urging for more. “Yes, yours.”

He nips the underside of my breast before turning his full attention to the other. “You’re goddamn right.”

With a flick of his wrist, my bra is unclasped, and Reid straightens. It drops to the floor. Looking into his eyes is like staring at an ash cloud. “Take off your clothes.”

Quickly, I do as he says.

He swallows. “Turn around.”

Again, I obey. Only because I don’t want him seeing how much I need his approval to fill the gaping hole inside me.

“Arms behind your back.”

My body responds before my head has a chance to catch up.

Reid’s touch skims my hands as he positions them how he wants, one on top of the other. He binds my wrists behind my back. There’s enough give in the material to allow circulation, but little else.

Rather than vulnerable, I feel safe. Tingles erupt beneath my flushed skin.

“Walk to the bed.”

A shiver shimmies down my spine as anticipation builds. I step forward, my knees hitting the mattress.

“Spread your legs.”

Biting my bottom lip, I pause.

“I’m not going to ask again.”

Acting on instinct, I shuffle my feet apart.

“Wider.”

I move again.

“Wider.”

And again.

His feet pad across the carpet until I can sense him behind me. The goose bumps peppering my skin grow more pronounced with each step.

One finger trails from my shoulder down the curve of my spine and comes to rest on the small of my back. Reid flattens his hand against it. “Bend over.”

My breathing turns frantic.

“Now.”

I shut my eyes but do as he says. Bending at the waist, I lean forward until my cheek rests against the soft bedcover.

I’m completely bared. The knowledge sends a bolt of heat to the apex of my thighs as desire pools in my belly.

I want him, need him, now.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Fuck me, Reid.”

A sharp smack has my eyes darting open.

“Did you just spank me?” He’s never spanked me.

His large hand caresses my ass. “Yes.”

His touch soothes the sharp sting. A dark part of me doesn’t want it to fade; it craves the burn. If only to prove that for a single, glorious moment, he was mine.

My pussy throbs as his upper body brushes against my back, the downy hair below his navel tickling my oversensitive skin. “And you fucking loved it.”

I keep quiet because he’s right.

Reid’s palm slips lower, his fingers skimming my slick folds. “Didn’t you?”

My hair is yanked back until we’re staring into each other’s eyes. Panting, I take in the stranger before me. Dark eyes, hard features, and coiled energy sparking for release. This isn’t the Reid I know. But I don’t shy away from him. If anything, his raw power draws me closer.

Fleetingly, I wonder what he sees when he stares at me. Are my pupils as dilated as his? Is my skin as flushed? Does my body call to him like his does to me?

I lick my lips. “Yes, I loved it.”

“Good answer.” With his gaze fixed on my face, he touches me.

I gasp as Reid’s long fingers stroke, tease, and bring me to the brink time and again. Closing my eyes, I surrender to the sensation brought on by this man.

Need forms in my stomach, its sparking coils crackling and expanding. Rotating my hips, I generate more friction. “Reid, I’m almost there.”

He smacks my ass. “Stay still.”

Desire floods my entrance.

Reid swears, coats his fingers in my juices, and thrusts two inside.

“Reid.”

“Yeah, darlin’?” He slowly draws them out, applying sweet torture to my clit with his thumb before thrusting them inside me once again.

“Oh, my God.”

“Whose fingers are fucking your pussy?”

“Yours, Reid,” I moan. “Yours. Always.”

“That’s fucking right.” He sets a punishing rhythm.

I can’t think, see, or do anything other than experience the euphoric sensations he conjures.

I don’t want it to end. I want to stay in this pleasure-filled purgatory if it means he’s inside me.

Light flickers before my eyes. Finally, the orgasm that’s been building peaks. “Reid, I’m going to—”

He removes his fingers.

Reid removes his motherfucking fingers.

There’s cold air where his touch was, distance where his body used to be, and hollowness where my heart previously beat. Tears pool in my eyes. It brings back the years of remorse I barely survived. I can’t do it again.

“You’re not doing anything until I tell you. Understand?”

Choking back a sob, I whisper, “I hate you so much right now.”

He pauses. Exhales. Drops to his knees and murmurs words so low I don’t understand them. Tender hands caress my ass, and soft lips worship my sensitive skin.

Relief and pure, unadulterated pleasure tear through me. With Reid’s unspoken apology, my lungs expand, and crisp air cleanses my parched throat. It brings with it the promise of new beginnings.

His fingers spread me open, and with a low groan, he devours me. Reid’s tongue is relentless. When I feel like I can’t take any more, he rumbles, “Come. Now.”

My world fragments. His name is ripped from my chest like a beating heart. Convulsing around his tongue, I fall harder, further than I ever have before.

I’m floating somewhere in between Eden and Nirvana when the unbuckling of a belt, unzipping of a fly, and crackle of a condom wrapper tease the periphery of my consciousness.

Reid repositions me until both of my knees are on the bed, my ass in the air. The head of his cock nudges my entrance.

When I remember how fucking big and thick he is, I tense.

“Deep breath, darlin’.”

I comply, the words triggering a memory from the night I gave him my virginity so long ago. Blinking back a fresh wave of tears, I exhale.

Reid thrusts inside. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I gasp, my body stretching to accommodate his size.

Once bottomed out, he pauses, breathing hard. After a moment, his grip on my hips tightens and he starts to move.

Already, my body is poised on the verge of another orgasm. “Reid.”

“I’ve got you, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

“I need to—”

“Not yet.”

“Please, I—”

He smacks my ass. “No.”

With a muttered curse, I try to hold off. My body trembles, and my gasps are frantic. My shoulders ache, hands burn, and tension-filled fire is about to engulf me whole.

Finally, after what feels like hours of sweet torture, Reid slips his fingers between my pussy lips and pinches my clit. “Now.”

I come.

I scream until my lungs burn and my voice is hoarse. Through the noise, I register Reid’s cry as he thrusts once, twice, three times, then empties inside me.

Slumping forward, his forehead rests between my shoulder blades. We’re motionless for the longest time. Eventually, he stands, pulling out of me before quickly disposing of the condom. When he returns to the bed, I haven’t moved.

Reid frees my hands.

Sluggishly, I roll my shoulders before flexing my wrists.

“Lie still.” His warm hands caress my body, massaging away the aches.

Other than that, no words are said, and no promises are made. There’s no pillow talk or banter.

The silence makes me realize there’s no coming back from this. No man understands my body like Reid. No one recognizes what I can handle and what I can’t. After all these years, he’s still the only person who truly knows who I am.

Karma is one fucked-up bitch.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Someone got lucky last night.”

Boiling coffee sears my throat. “Goddammit.”

Amused, Jasper watches as I guzzle a glass of water. “You okay?”

“Other than third degree burns to my larynx? Fine.”

My brother smirks before averting his gaze and staring pointedly at Drake.

I flop back in my seat, relieved.

Drake winks but remains silent.

“Well?” Jasper presses.

The lead singer of Willow’s band leans back in his chair, crossing muscular arms over a broad chest. “I don’t kiss and tell, man.”

“Bullshit.” The words leave my mouth before I can chase them back.

Jasper throws his head back, laughing. “She’s got you there, bro. You never shut up about the women you bag.” He wags his eyebrows. “Until now.”

“What can I say?” Drake replies. “I woke up a new man.”

“Bullshit.” This time it’s Willow who calls him out. “The waitress slipped you her number with your bacon and eggs.” She narrows her gaze. “And you’ve already programmed it into your phone.”

“I have?” Drake pulls his cell from his pocket. “Huh. So I have.” He scratches the back of his neck, confused.

“You operate on autopilot now?” Willow shakes her head, muttering, “Unbelievable.”

Drake furrows his brows, tapping on his phone. Distractedly, he pushes a lock of cobalt hair from his face. With his high cheekbones, chiseled jawline, and penetrating blue eyes, the man could pass for a fashion model.

Once finished, he turns his screen to Willow. “Deleted. Happy now?”

“I will be when you get rid of the napkin in your pocket. You know, the one from the other waitress?”

Mumbling incoherent curses, Drake reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a napkin with Natasha and a phone number scrawled underneath it. Tearing it into tiny pieces, he scatters the remains onto his empty plate. He raises an eyebrow at Willow.

She nods, appeased. “Just looking out for you. You can’t perform at your best if you’ve got chlamydia.” Without another word, Willow digs in to her omelet.

I nudge her with my elbow. “So much for a quiet breakfast.”

“Sorry,” she mouths. “I thought they’d be too hungover to come.”

Opposite me, Reid is silent.

Unbidden, my gaze rests on him. His faded blue T-shirt does a craptastic job of covering wide shoulders and pronounced pecs. The material is stretched so tightly, I can see the outline of his nipple ring.

Focus, Shiloh.

“Well?”

Blinking, I look at my brother. Glancing around the table confirms that four pairs of eyes are fixed on me. One pair is staring at his coffee. “Well, what?”

Jasper rolls his eyes. “I said, what did you get up to last night?”

“Yeah,” Drake adds, unhelpful as always. “Sharing is caring.”

I massage my temples, frustrated when it does nothing to ease my throbbing headache. Reid was right, I should have taken the water when he offered it.

“Well?”

“Bloody hell, Jasper.” I shoot him a withering look. “Quit with the questions and get the hell out of my business.”

“You totally got laid,” my brother declares.

The table erupts into laughter. All except for Tobias and Reid.

Drake wipes away a tear. “You got boned.”

“Who even says that?” I scrunch my nose. “You’re disgusting.”

“How would you rate the lucky man?” the nosy lead singer asks. “What would you give him out of ten? Assuming one means he needed an air traffic controller to find your pussy and ten means he’s Fabio’s spawn.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, but he is.” There’s a devilish glint in Jasper’s eye. “What score, sis?”

I try to catch Willow’s eye, only she’s too busy giggling into her breakfast to be any help. “You all suck. I’m not rating anything.”

“Why not?”

Damn.

The low, smooth tenor of his voice sends tingles up and down my spine.

The table is silent as all eyes turn to Reid.

“Now you speak?” Husky. I’m so fucking obvious.

The corner of Reid’s mouth twitches, but other than that, his features are impassive.

“Well, this is awkward.” I roll the empty glass between my fingers. “I mean, if I give the guy a low score, he’ll have a performance complex for the rest of his life.”

“Though it could be well deserved.” Willow grins.

I smile back, her previous reticence forgiven. “True.”

There’s a distinct growl from across the table.

“But on the other hand, if I give him a high score—”

“Which he could have earned,” Drake interjects, his gaze darting between Reid and me.

Inclining my head, I nod. “Maybe. But if I do that, he’ll get an inflated ego, won’t he? It’s a lose-lose situation, guys.” Tapping my chin, I muse, “Maybe I should give him a five?”

“A five?” Reid crosses his arms.

“Yeah.” I scan his muscular torso, remembering how it looked naked and above me. “It’s a solid number, halfway between terrible and mind-blowing. There’s no shame in that, surely?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he grits out.

Jasper’s smile is wide. “I’d be a ten for sure.”

Willow snorts.

“What about you, Drake?” my brother asks.

“Can I score higher than a ten?” The boys give each other a high five.

Willow places some cash on the table and stands. “I’m done here. What about you, Shiloh?”

Purposely avoiding Reid’s stare, I pull some money from my pocket and place it next to my plate. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

After smacking my brother upside the head and nodding to Drake, I follow Willow out of the café.

Once we’re on the sidewalk, she holds up her keys. “Do you want a lift to Rising Star?”

I shake my head. “Thanks, but we don’t need to be there for a couple of hours. I’m going to head to the beach. Fresh air and all.”

She nods. “No problem. We still on for tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Don’t you remember?”

Tucking wisps of hair behind my ears, I shrug.

“The boys came up with the idea at the photoshoot yesterday. We’re heading out later. It’ll be our last hurrah before the competition really heats up.”

A wave of nausea forms. Reid’s distraction method has been working so well, I’d forgotten the reason for it in the first place.

Not anymore.

The angst, the fear, the frustration, it’s an unstoppable barrage heading straight toward me. What’s worse is, the man standing between carnage and me doesn’t care if I drown.

Chapter Thirty-Six

The ocean is calm. The turquoise water lazily laps the shoreline, the sparkling sunlight shimmering off its surface.

Breathing deeply, I take in the picturesque vista. The weathered rock I’m sitting on is smooth beneath my thighs. The warmth sinks into my skin, and though it normally would, today, it doesn’t relax me.

Footsteps approach from behind. “A five?”

My body seizes, drawing so taut my limbs hurt.

A storm is brewing. Only, it’s not coming off the ocean.

Since Reid left last night, I’ve been on edge. He’s hard to read at the best of times, and at breakfast he was more taciturn than usual. I have no idea where his head is at. Does he regret our time together? Is he comparing it to the past? Is he questioning my every move, like I’m questioning his?

Licking dry lips, I keep my gaze fixed on the ocean. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to let it go. You were always a perfectionist.”

My hair is swept to one side.

Goose bumps appear on my exposed shoulder, and I shiver.

Reid’s mouth brushes the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Was it a five when my fingers thrust inside your wet pussy?”

Unbidden, my eyes drift shut.

“Was it a five when my mouth worshipped your clit?”

On an inhale, my mouth parts.

“Was it a five when you begged me, over and over again, to let you come?” He takes my earlobe between his teeth, biting it.

Arching my back, I raise my arms above my head and wrap them around his neck. He’s too far away. I need him nearer.

Reid cups my heavy breasts, ignoring the fact we’re outside in broad daylight. Thankfully, this part of the beach is relatively quiet.

“Well?” He pushes them up and together.

I whimper. “You were never a five. Never.”

Reid drops his hands and backs away. “You’re lying.”

“What?” Shocked, I surge to my feet and turn to face him. The movement is so quick, the ground sways beneath my feet. It takes a moment to steady myself.

“You heard me.” Tension radiates off his cut body. “You pretend to melt in my hands, but it’s all a fucking act.”

Indignation wells inside me. “An act? How can you say that? When I’m around you, I respond before I even know what I’m doing.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Jesus, sometimes I wish it was an act. It would be so much easier to—” Biting my lip, I turn from the distrust swirling in his eyes. It’s agonizing. “It’s never an act with you, Reid.”

“Then why did I wake up in an empty bed three years ago?” His booming voice echoes off the rocks. “I’d barely pulled out and you were gone.”

Blinking back tears, I shake my head. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.”

“You promised me forever but didn’t even last the night.”

His words are a lance through my weak armor. Vision blurry, I think back to the night of the concert. After the shock of the gunman, Reid took me back to his place, stripped us of our clothes, and made love to me. The connection we shared was unlike anything I’d felt before. It was desperate, honest, and so fucking raw the memory has me wrapping my arms around myself for fear I’ll fall apart.

Contrary to what Reid thinks, I didn’t leave straight away. When he fell asleep, I stayed nestled in his arms. My fingers traced his lips and skimmed the line of his jaw. I marveled at the way his dark eyelashes contrasted against his soft skin. I lay there for hours, memorizing every feature on his face. I swore it was the last time I’d let myself touch him.

Reid’s voice is harsh. “There was no note, no message, no motherfucking phone call. You blocked my number. You didn’t answer the door. I came to your house so many fucking times trying to get an answer.” His gaze narrows. “But you cut me out of your life without a single reason.”

“No reason?” The incredulousness of my stare slams into his. “You’re kidding me, right?”

His broad chest rises and falls in time with ragged breaths.

“I did it for you.” Fisted hands perch on my hips. “Do you remember whose idea it was to go to that concert?”

He glares.

“Mine.” I step closer. “Do you remember whose idea it was to push our way into the mosh pit?”

He crosses his arms.

“Mine.” I shift forward again. “Do you remember becoming separated when the crowd surged forward? When fifteen innocent people were shot and four others were crushed to death in the rush to get out?”

Silence.

“I put you in danger! I did that!” My voice catches. “It’s like I’m fucking cursed. First with my parents, and then you.” With an agitated swipe of my hand, I dry the tears streaming down my cheeks.

Reid goes to speak but closes his mouth again. The muscle in his jaw flexes, and he looks away.

I stare into the face of the man who owns my very soul. “I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in that situation. And yes, you have every right to hate me, but trust me when I tell you, I hate myself more.”

Torn open and bleeding, I leave.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Tobias is setting up his drums when I finally make it to the rehearsal studio.

“Hey.” I try to smile.

“Hey.”

Pausing, I consider my friend. “Are you all right?”

His face is in profile as he studiously attaches the kick pedal to the bass drum. Refusing to glance my way, he shrugs.

“Is it Tiffany?”

“No.”

Thinking back over the past twenty-four hours, I consider what could have pissed him off. “Did Jasper say something? You know not to take anything he says seriously, right?”

“It’s not Jasper.” He stands, wiping his hands down the front of his jeans. Turning his back, he starts working on the cymbal stand.

“Okay.” I draw out the word, lengthening the two syllables until something other than agitation fills the loaded silence. “But this conversation isn’t finished. You’re not going radio silent on me again.” Moving to the corner of the room, I take my mic out of its steel case, confused.

Tobias’s silence worries me. In the lead-up to his suicide attempt, he grew quieter and more withdrawn. He shut down all communication with his closest friends, not wanting to hang out or play music.

I still kick myself for not trying harder. For not staying with him, night and day, until he opened up about what was troubling him. Instead, I left my best friend to himself, thinking he’d come back to me when he was ready.

Rookie mistake.

I’m so lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice Reid arrive. But when I turn, he’s there.

The room feels so small. His scent wraps around me, confusing my already broken pieces as they wander lost and confused for their matching parts. “What are you doing here?”

Both men glance up from Tobias’s phone.

No one says a word.

With my pulse hammering in my ears, I drink him in. Despite being together a short time ago, it’s like I haven’t seen him in months. There’s a softening around the corner of his eyes that belies the hard line of his mouth. It makes me want to step nearer, throw my arms around his shoulders, press my lips to his, and never let him go.

I remain where I am.

Tobias lowers his phone, scowling. “I asked for Reid’s opinion on the latest drum fills tutorial.” Pausing, he tips his head to one side. “Why? Have you got a problem with that?”

“No, of course not.” I flick loose hair over one shoulder and continue setting up for band practice. Only, my movements are awkward and cumbersome. I keep sneaking looks at Reid, which makes the distraction worse.

He doesn’t glance my way.

“How about we go over this later, Tobias?” Reid slaps my best friend on the shoulder and strides to the door.

Tobias exhales, scrubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Yeah, sure. Later.”

“Wait,” I cry out to Reid.

He pauses, his back to me.

My eyes trace the hard lines of his body, wishing I was caressing him with my hands. I want to soothe away the anger, and somehow fix what I’ve so catastrophically torn apart. But all I can manage is a murmur. “Will I see you before our next performance?”

The room is quiet. The tension intensifies; it’s like we’re all waiting for direction, but no one is offering it.

After what feels like forever, Reid nods. Then, without a word, he leaves.

The moment the door closes, Tobias rounds on me. “Fucking hell, Shiloh.”

“What?”

He gestures to the door, expression incredulous. “What was that?”

Needing to keep busy, I continue setting up. “You were the one who asked him here. If anyone should be asking that question, it’s me.”

“I told you not to fall for the guy.”

Too late. I’ve never stopped falling.

It’s difficult to swallow. “And I already told you, he’s helping me out.”

“Admit it, you love him!”

I can’t breathe. Searing flames rip through my body, incinerating me from the inside out. It takes everything I have not to double over and crumble to the floor.

“It’s been three fucking years and you haven’t moved on.” He shoves his phone in his back pocket. “I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but he doesn’t give a shit about you.”

Not wanting to let on how much his words destroy me, I bite the inside of my cheek until tears well.

“He wouldn’t even look you in the eye.”

Staring at my feet, I try to pull together the remnants of my crushed heart. My vision swims, and a sob escapes.

With a groan, Tobias strides over, pulling me into his arms. “Fucking hell.”

I grip his shirt, hating what he said, but needing his comfort. “You’re such an asshole.”

He brushes hair back from my face. “I’m not trying to be a dick on purpose, I’m looking out for you. Can’t you see? You’ve got everything to lose and nothing to gain here. He’s going to break your heart.”

Shifting back slightly, I blink at him through my tears. “Impossible. I don’t have a heart left to break.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Karaoke?” I ask.

Willow leads me upstairs to Mao’s Last Gangsta, Bayview’s premier venue for all things cheesy.

“You mean I’m going to spend the night watching my nearest and dearest make asses of themselves singing karaoke?”

Willow winks at me over her shoulder. “I know, right?”

“Thank fuck. I need a good laugh. This is perfect.”

“You’re welcome.”

When we make it to the top of the stairs, we move down a narrow corridor. There are cordoned-off rooms with locked doors on each side. Each is named after a famous rock band.

As soon as we step inside our designated room, Jasper dives for the remote. “I call dibs.”

“What are you, twelve?” Shaking my head, I take a seat on the black leather U-shaped bench seat. It lines three walls, a large flat-screen TV taking up the fourth.

Willow sits next to me, scanning the space.

It’s small and rectangular, the walls painted a deep ochre with generic black-and-white prints of microphones and boom boxes decorating opposing walls.

“Nice.” She nods.

Drake saunters in with a tray full of drinks. He places it on the low coffee table in the center. “Let the shenanigans begin.”

Tobias and Reid are close behind, each moving to opposite sides of the room.

When my gaze settles on Reid, my stomach twists with remorse. I wish I could stop my inherent need for him. If my soul would stop begging for its other half and my fear would miraculously disappear, I could do what’s best for both of us. Let him go for good.

His dark T-shirt clings to a broad torso and wide shoulders, and his faded jeans accentuate how strong his legs are. With his shoulder-length hair pulled into a bun, his rugged jawline and defined cheekbones are made even more noticeable.

Reid’s eyes shift to mine. We stare at each other for a long moment, lost in our own world.

“Prepare yourselves, my singing is out of this world,” Jasper interrupts.

Face flushed, I glance away, taking a bottle of beer.

Willow grins, nudging me. “Wasn’t this a great idea?”

I nod, my mouth full.

“Depends on your definition of great,” Tobias grumbles, next to her. “I can’t drink or sing. Place is my worst fucking nightmare.”

After swallowing, I glance at him. “How did I not know you hated karaoke?”

He shrugs, gesturing to Willow and me. “You girls can hold a tune. I sound like Chewbacca with sinusitis.”

I throw my head back, laughing. “Oh my God, you do too.”

“Bitch.” Tobias glares at me, though the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement.

Willow attempts to stifle her giggles. Head down, she snickers into her beer.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up while you can, ladies. I’m going to get you both so rolling drunk, you won’t even remember my performance.”

I hold up my hands. “Not me, you won’t. I’m singing in a couple of days, remember? I need to stay fresh. In fact”—I place my drink on the coffee table—“I’m only going to sing one song. The rest of the time, I’m going to be laughing my ass off at you fools.”

“Cute.” Tobias scowls.

Willow nudges Tobias’s shoulder, coaxing a smile out of him. “It won’t be so bad, you’ll see.” Her eyes light up. “Maybe you could be a backup singer or something? You know, share the limelight with someone else? I’m sure Jasper would be happy to have you.”

Tobias drops his head into his hands. “Fuck me.”

Willow and I grin at each other.

“Brilliant,” I mouth.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I lose count of the number of times I double over in laughter at the antics of my friends and family. It’s the most fun I’ve had in forever. Something about being cocooned in a small room with those I genuinely care about reminds me of why I sing.

Community.

People connect through music, we come together because of our love for it. It reaffirms my dream to become a force to be reckoned with on stage. Not that I’d ever take the spotlight away from Willow, who is totally owning the mic.

“You’d better watch yourself, Drake,” I holler. “She could easily pass as a lead singer.”

He nods, awestruck.

We all applaud and wolf whistle when she takes a final, albeit sheepish, bow, her face flushed from a combination of alcohol and endorphins. “Thanks, guys.”

Tobias butchers an absolute classic. It’s hysterical.

When I finally compose myself, I lean in close to Willow. “Was Tobias crushing on someone before Tiffany?”

“Why are you asking me? He’s your bestie.”

“He chose a song about unrequited love. Strange, don’t you think?”

She shrugs. “It’s got a catchy tempo. Maybe that’s all there is to it?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Letting the thought go, I cheer for my friend once he’s finished.

Jasper gives him a high five on the way back to his seat, then jumps up to have yet another turn. When his song starts, I groan. “Of course he would choose this one. It’s got a three-minute guitar solo before the final verse. Self-indulgent ass.”

Willow giggles.

Drake nods in approval.

“Idiots, both of them,” I mutter.

Throughout it all, Reid is a bystander. He claps and heckles but, like me, doesn’t reach for the mic. I’m curious about what song he would choose if given the chance. Would it be a lame classic or something serious? The fact that I’m not sure makes me sad. I guess we don’t know each other anymore.

Hours pass, and the songs become slower, more meaningful, until it gets to the point where people aren’t interested in singing. Tobias is passed out, Willow and Jasper are debating existentialism, and Reid is downstairs, paying the bill. So I figure now is the perfect time.

I pick up the remote control and scroll through the different categories. “Funk? No. RnB? No. Country? No fucking way. Alternative rock? Hmm, haven’t been down this rabbit hole in a while.”

Perusing the options in this genre, I discount all of them until I land on a familiar title.

This song.

The years dissipate and suddenly I’m curled on my bed, bawling my eyes out. It takes everything I have to blink away the image, get a freaking grip, and push away the utter devastation of returning to an empty house.

Alone.

Hollow.

Destroyed.

Jeff Buckley’s cover of Leonard Cohen’s, “Hallelujah” stares back at me. My finger presses Play before my mind screams lunacy. I close my eyes as the opening guitar riffs swirl in the air.

There are heaps of opinions about what this song is actually about. Some people think the lyrics are a religious declaration, while others argue they’re nothing more than poorly composed poetry. I believe it’s about love. Not the joyous kind; the type that lays you bare, cuts you open, and watches, enraptured, while you bleed.

Since no one is paying attention, I stand, swaying with the music. The haunting melody surrounds me in a blanket of melancholy. After the lengthy intro, I raise the mic to my mouth and sing.

My voice is low, husky, full of everything I’ve wanted to say yet never had the balls to express. The music pulls me in, the lyrics own my soul, and my demons are exorcised—just this once.

I sing about two very different people drawn together by an unfathomable bond. About the depravity of love, of its cruelty and malice. Of loving someone so fiercely it feels like you’re dying inside.

Only, I relish the pain because it serves as a reminder of everything Reid and I once shared. Yeah, we were young, but there was no denying what we felt. We loved. We loved hard.

Finally, my voice fades through the shitty speaker and I blink my eyes open.

Oh hell.

Everyone is staring. Drake’s eyes are glassy, and a distinct sniffle comes from Willow’s direction. Jasper’s jaw is working hard, and even Tobias is awake, gaping in astonishment.

After fumbling with the off switch, my trembling fingers replace the mic on the coffee table, now littered with empty glasses and bottles. I wipe my hands down the front of my pants and turn to leave.

Shit.

A gust of air escapes me. “Reid.”

He heard everything.

I need to leave. Now.

Straightening my shoulders, I draw on my last vestige of strength and walk over to where he’s blocking the doorway.

“Shiloh.” It’s the brokenness that kills me. The despair rupturing his stoic façade that hurts the most.

“Don’t.” I shake my head, my voice a broken whisper. “Please. Not here.”

He grips the back of his neck, his hold turning the tan skin pale. At last, he shifts to one side.

Slipping past, I slink down the stairs and into the night.

Chapter Forty

The next day, the boys and I set up our equipment in silence. Tobias’s brows are furrowed as he maneuvers his snare until satisfied. It sits atop an old Indian rug that has been with him from the moment he joined our band. Once in place, he taps the drum.

“How does it sound?” I ask.

“Sweet.”

Smiling, I make my way to my brother. His eyes are closed, and his head is tilted while he tunes his Gibson. “You almost ready?”

He looks at me and grins. “Fuck, yes. We’re going to rock their socks off this week.”

“Lame.” I try to smile, but since last night, I haven’t managed to.

My mind turns to our upcoming performance. There will be so many people. Our audience is growing larger each time we’re on stage. Meaning, I fluctuate between wanting to jump for joy and burst into tears.

Jasper carefully places his guitar on its stand before grasping my shoulders. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Not buying it, sis.”

“I’m fine. Honest.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

His grip tightens. “Then why haven’t you stopped nodding?”

“Oh.” I freeze, confused.

The door flies open. Vivienne waltzes into our tiny studio, her frazzled PA behind her.

“This conversation isn’t over,” my brother whispers.

“Listen closely,” Vivienne orders.

Tobias stops what he’s doing and moves to where Jasper and I are standing.

Standing tall, Vivienne rests her piercing gaze on each of us in turn. She clears her throat. “Your band has the ability to make it through to the finals.” Her mouth twitches.

I think she’s smiling.

“You have a strong support base of voters and, surprisingly, Bradley Reading’s endorsement.” With a sniff, she glances down at her bejeweled fingers.

Tobias grabs my hand and squeezes.

“Winning this competition is not simply about signing a recording contract. It is about Rising Star giving you the platform to show the world exactly what you can do.” Vivienne waves her hand in the air. “It is about superstardom.” Her eyes land on me, and her arm drops to her side. “This opportunity will not happen again.”

I swallow.

Beside me, Jasper nods.

Vivienne and her PA remain for a while longer, discussing the details of our next performance. They pay particular attention to the size of the crowd and the importance of building rapport with them during our song.

When the two women finally leave, Jasper turns to us. His expression slowly changes from bafflement to excitement as reality hits. “Holy fucking shit. Did you hear that? She basically said we can win the competition.”

With a shout, he picks me up and spins us in a circle.

“We’re going to make the big time.”

When he drops me on my feet, I’m smiling. Pure joy radiates from him, and the sight warms the coldest parts of me.

Nearby, Tobias grins like a fool.

Jasper’s eyes are bright. “This is our chance to show the world what we’re made of.” He moves to Tobias and slaps him on the back. “Fuck, I can’t wait to play. Our next performance is going to be huge.”

Jesus Christ.

My lungs squeeze as though trying to snap themselves into pieces. With each breath, they constrict, suffocating me from the inside out.

Mind racing, I consider what lies before me. If we reach the finals, we’ll have an audience of thousands. Thousands.

I can’t breathe.

Somewhere nearby, a door slams. A voice says something, though I can’t understand what they’re saying. I’m too fixated on the fact that the success of my band rests solely on me. A demophobe. A woman traumatized by the past and terrified of the future.

Oh fuck.

Chest is tight, vision blurry; my body sways. Spots appear before my eyes. I blink, but they don’t go away.

I fall.

Chapter Forty-One

I can smell Reid.

Inhaling only confirms it. His spicy scent is intoxicating, and I’m drunk on it. I relax into the floor, my limbs heavy with fatigue.

“I think she’s coming to.”

Slowly, I open my eyes. It takes a minute for everything to come into focus. “Jasper?”

“Thank fuck.” My brother exhales, relief rolling off him in waves. “You scared the shit out of me, sis. What happened?”

I try to sit up, only my feet are held in the air. I look at the person holding them. “Um, Tobias?”

His grip on my ankles tightens. “Yeah?”

“Why are you holding my feet?”

“You fainted.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda getting that.”

“It’s what people do when someone faints.”

“Is it?”

He blinks. “Isn’t it?”

We stare at each other for a moment, then laugh.

Once I’ve got myself under control, Jasper crouches beside me. “Come on, let’s get you up.”

With his and Tobias’s help, I stand. Despite being a bit disorientated, my body feels okay. There are no broken bones or strains, not even a bruise. Strange, considering I crumpled onto concrete.

My bandmates’ faces display varying degrees of anxiety, and the seriousness of the situation dawns on me. I need to time my freak-outs better.

Movement to my right catches my eye. “Reid.”

I knew I could smell him.

My throat turns dry. “Where’s your shirt?” Because that’s the most important issue here. Not the fact that I passed out, or that I need to overcome my phobia in a matter of weeks.

In answer to my question, Reid indicates the ground. His shirt is a rumpled mess at my feet.

“Oh. Right.” Heat flares on my face. “Thanks for that.”

Crouching low, he picks up a bass pedal before straightening again. He holds it out to Tobias. “Do you still need it?”

Slowly, my friend lets go of me and takes the piece of equipment. “Yeah. Thanks, man.”

Rubbing the side of my head, I ask, “What’s wrong with yours?”

“The spring snapped.”

“It’s lucky Reid showed up when he did,” Jasper adds. “If it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, you’d be in the hospital with a concussion right now.”

I swallow, my gaze settling on Reid’s upper body. The last time I saw the taut, corded muscles, he was thrusting his hard cock inside me.

I bite my bottom lip.

Reid’s eyes flare.

“Why did you faint, sis?”

“Yeah, what happened?” Tobias asks.

In an attempt to clear my head, I run my fingers through my hair, untangling it. “Um, I was excited by what Vivienne said, that’s all.”

“You passed out from excitement?” Jasper’s stare is incredulous.

“Yeah.”

“You’re kidding.”

I glance at Tobias, begging him to believe my lie. “Nope. I’m a regular swooning belle.”

In my periphery, Reid shifts. Like the rest of my band, he knows I’m talking out of my ass, but thankfully, he remains silent.

“How about you head home?” Jasper suggests. “You should probably chill for a while.”

“Yeah, okay.” I nod.

“Want me to take you?” Tobias asks, his gaze full of—

No.

My best friend can’t look at me like that. If he does, everything changes. Everything we’ve shared, done, said, will have meanings I can’t delve into right now. Life is crazy enough as it is.

“Thanks anyway.” My smile feels forced. “You need to change bass pedals. I can walk.”

“You’re not walking.” Reid prowls to where I stand. “I’ll drive you.”

Gritting his teeth, Tobias turns his back, returning to his kit.

A dark part of me is relieved.

Jasper grins at Reid. “Thanks, I owe you one.” My brother pulls me in for a tight hug and kisses the side of my head. “Get out of here. Cancel your shift at work, and I’ll check on you later.”

When I break away from Jasper, Reid gestures toward the exit. “After you.”

It doesn’t take long to get to his car, settle inside, and hit the road. As we drive, I rest my head against the frame of the open window, the sea breeze buffeting my hair every which way. Only, my head is too full to admire the coastal view as it flashes past. I sigh.

Reid places his hand on my knee. His touch is firm yet tender.

My gaze darts to his, and a part of me melts from his gentle expression. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to write.” He turns his attention back to the road. “Embrace what you’re feeling and turn it into a song. Don’t hide from it. Write it.”

I sigh, closing my eyes and letting the sun warm my tired lids.

Silent, Reid traces small circles on the inside of my knee the entire way home.

His hand warms my skin, the contact strengthening my resolve. I need to stop running. I need to face the tempest, arms wide, head thrown back, and body braced for the onslaught.

I need to write.

Chapter Forty-Two

Reid drops me home, promising to check in on me later.

Picking up my trusty soccer ball, notebook, and pen, I make my way back outside. It doesn’t take long to walk to the beach, and when my feet sink into the soft sand, I pause.

The coast stretches for miles in both directions, the cloudless sky imitating its boundless expanse.

A soft breeze plays with my hair, and the sun kisses my skin. A smile teases my lips. Sitting down, I place the soccer ball next to me, open my notebook, and retrieve the pen from behind my ear. Then I stare at the blank page and wait.

Nothing.

“Fuck.” Shutting my eyes, I try to concentrate. “What do I write about? Leaving Reid? Hiding my phobia? Living a life of fear? Not wanting to let the band down? Needing to sing, but struggling to find the words?”

Flopping back onto the sand, I throw one arm over my face. With my eyes shielded, I realize that the waves washing onto the shore and retreating again are soothing. I lie for what feels like hours, listening. The rhythmic movement sounds like a kickass metronome. The beat is slow, but solid. Soon enough, faint words swirl in my brain, growing more tangible the longer I listen.

I sit up, reaching for my notebook and pen. Memories, fears, love, heartbreak, joy, devastation. It’s all there as the words form verses, then a chorus. I don’t even notice the sun as it slips toward the horizon, I’m too engrossed in writing.

Once I’ve got the skeleton of the song down, I nod. “Not bad.”

Tapping the pen against my bottom lip, I read over my work. After making some changes, I lean back and let out a low whistle.

I can hear the song in my mind. It’ll start with vocals, slow, dark, poignant. The lead guitar will kick in, the riffs intricate and alluring, followed by the complex layering of bass notes. At the pivotal moment when my heart is laid bare and my voice trails away into a blanket of silence, the drums will thunder through the darkness and the guitars will once again weave their dirty melodies.

Throwing the notebook to one side, I lie back again, exhausted. “Damn, that was intense.”

After a few minutes of staring at the first sprinkling of stars, I collect my gear and make my way home.

Reid is waiting by the front door. His gaze roams my bedraggled appearance, starting with my bare feet and finishing on my unruly hair. Without a word, he takes my keys, inserts them in the lock, and opens the door, gesturing for me to move inside.

I barely nod, too drained to comment on him acting like it’s his own damn house. “Shower,” I mumble, dumping my gear in the hallway before trudging upstairs.

Afterward, I emerge reborn. My hair is washed, my hip-hugging jeans are comfy, and my black shirt is snug. With one last look at my reflection, I nod. “That’s better.”

But when I step inside my bedroom, I freeze. “What are you doing?”

Reid is on my bed. An arm rests behind his head while his free hand holds a book in his lap. It’s my notebook. The one I poured my entire soul into not one hour ago.

Everything is in slow motion as I dive for it. Instead of swooping in and claiming what is rightfully mine, I end up half straddling the guy.

Reid holds it high above his head. Since he’s so tall, there’s no way I can reach it, even from my new position.

“Give it back.”

Reid quirks an eyebrow. “No.”

Panic bubbles inside me. I can’t have Reid seeing my lyrics; I’m barely reconciled with the fact they’re on the fucking page. It’s too early for someone to look through my ugliest secrets and judge them.

“Please, I—” I try to retrieve it again but miss.

“Give it a rest, woman. I need to finish this.”

Nerves simmer in my veins. “How much have you read?” I shuffle farther up his muscular thighs, trying to reclaim what’s out of reach. “How many times do I have to tell you? That shit’s private.”

His free hand clamps down on my hip. “Stop moving.”

It’s then I notice where I’m sitting. With barely a sliver of space between us, Reid’s cock and my pussy are perfectly aligned. If it weren’t for my jeans and his, he could slip inside me. I’d let him.

The air between us grows thicker.

My eyes drop to the thin slash of his lips and his flared nostrils.

Desperate to think of something other than desire, I clear my throat. “I want my notebook.” There’s no conviction in my tone. It’s whisper soft and reed thin.

“You wrote.”

“Yeah.”

His hand flexes. “How was it?”

Desperate for breathing room, I roll off his lap. After squeezing next to his large frame on the queen bed, I lie back and stare at the ceiling. “Horrible.”

I can sense his gaze on me. Waiting.

“It was hard, you know? Not like the other songs I’ve written, not even the emo ones I wrote in high school.”

Reid snorts. “Yeah, they were shit.”

Feigning outrage, I pinch his side.

He falls silent, and for a perfect moment we’re how we used to be.

I want to tell him I miss him, that I’m sorry for fucking him over so cruelly. I want to murmur how lying this close reminds me of everything I’ve lost, and even though I’m suffering, I welcome the pain.

But I swallow the words.

When Reid attempts to continue reading, I grab his wrist, instantly reminded of how powerful his arms are. “Don’t.”

His eyes scan my face. “Why not?”

I can’t handle the scrutiny.

I can’t expose myself so completely.

You’ll ruin me.

“Please just… don’t.”

His gaze shuts down. The warmth from seconds ago is now a figment of my imagination. Reid closes the notebook, dropping it onto the floor with a thud. He sits up, his back to me.

“You’re pissed.”

Tipping his head back, he stares at the ceiling.

Tucking my fingers beneath my legs, I tell myself not to reach out to him. He wouldn’t like it if I did. “Why? Because I asked you not to read something that’s personal?”

Reid’s voice is tight. “You used to share everything with me. Before you started hanging with Tobias, it was always us.”

The need to touch him is overwhelming. I want to skim my hands across his skin, soothing away the pain I’ve caused. So I reconcile myself with playing with the hem of his T-shirt. “I know.”

“We had no secrets, no lies between us.”

“I know.” Scrunching my brows, I pause. “Hang on, what do you mean by lies? I’ve never lied to you, not once.”

“I read the first verse.”

My mind winds back to what I wrote and how it could possibly be construed as a lie. I draw a blank.

“It talks about wanting to be free from the pain and the guilt of your past.”

“So?” Hearing Reid talk about my lyrics is difficult. It’s like a coach saying you played like shit despite having the game of your life. Anger smolders. “I do want to be free of it.”

“No, you don’t. You love wallowing in the fucking drama.” He turns to me. “And I’m done letting you.”

Chapter Forty-Three

“What did you say?” My tone is dangerously soft.

He gets to his feet and strides to the other side of the room before spinning around. “I said, you get off on the drama, and I’m fucking sick of it.”

Following his lead, I scramble out of bed. Pulsing with anger, I advance toward him. “What do you take me for? A masochist? Of course I want to be free of the pain and guilt.”

“No, you don’t.”

Our toes touch as we stand chest to chest, our frantic breaths buffeting the tension between us.

“Yes. I. Do.”

Reid closes the remaining gap. His large hand circles my throat, forcing my head back. The silver flecks in his gray eyes grow darker the longer we glare at one another. “Let me guess,” he growls. “It’s a slow song, right? The verses follow the story of a girl trapped in the cage of her own making. She sings about wanting to be free, about wanting to escape.” The pressure on my throat slowly increases. “You’re so fucking predictable.”

A red mist descends.

I push hard against his chest, furious when it does nothing. “What the hell is your problem? You told me to write, so I wrote. You told me not to hide from my emotions, so I didn’t. What more can you possibly want from me, huh?” I throw my arms out wide. “Do you want me to bleed for you? Do you want me to write lyrics in my own blood?” Pointing at the discarded book lying a few feet away, I cry, “It’s done! I’ve fucking done it. My blood is on those pages.”

Reid grasps my thrashing arms, pinning them behind my back with his free hand.

“What you’ve written is self-indulgent. It’s four minutes’ worth of hedonistic shit not worthy of music.”

I’m going to kill him.

“Don’t fucking write about wanting to get rid of guilt.” Reid’s expression is so livid, it’s a physical blow. “Jesus Christ, woman. Write about doing it, about actually having the courage to change.”

Despite the truth seeping through my fury-addled brain, he is, once again, judging my vulnerability. And I’m over it. “I hate you so much right now.”

“Trust me, darlin’, the feeling is mutual.”

My gaze scalds his beautiful face. “When I look at you, it’s a stranger staring back at me.”

Indignation, remorse, and frustration war in Reid’s expression. “Want to know what’s worse?”

“Not particularly.”

He cups my cheek with his free hand, his thumb digging into my jaw. “You’re still exactly the same.”

He kisses me.

Reid’s lips devour mine, his tongue ruthlessly claiming my mouth.

I moan, pressing myself against him as I return every touch, every lick, every taste.

“You make me so fuckin’ angry,” Reid growls, nipping, sucking, teasing his way down my neck. “I want to bend you over my motherfucking knee and spank your ass until it’s purple. Can’t you see? Drowning in your own melodrama is a waste of time. Wake the fuck up, Shiloh. This is life, and you’re missing it.”

I pull against his hand restraining my wrists. It’s futile, and my nipples harden from the struggle. “I don’t know how.”

His hold on me increases. “I’m going to show you.”

“Yes.” I’m desperate to get closer, to slip into the parts of him that are closed off to everyone else. “Make me forget so I can sing again.”

He bites my shoulder, and I shiver. When Reid’s gaze finds mine, his pupils are so dilated they take up almost the entirety of his eyes.

I don’t look away. I want to dive into the endless depths, eager to see if he’ll catch me and break my fall.

The thumb of Reid’s free hand presses into my swollen bottom lip. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll still feel me on stage.”

Opening my mouth, I suck on his finger.

“I’m going to own your body. Every square inch will be mine.” He tips my chin. “You ready for me, darlin’?”

Chapter Forty-Four

Reid lifts me, and my legs circle his waist. Turning, he presses me against the wall.

I run my fingers through his hair and tug on the soft strands, relishing the sharp sting of his corresponding nip.

His lips claim mine. Over and over, his tongue thrusts inside, perfectly matching the rhythm of his hips grinding against me.

Breaking away, Reid yanks my shirt up and over my head. He growls and ducks his head, his tongue tracing a line from the top of one breast to the other, taking his time to devour the valley in between. Reaching behind me, he unclasps my bra, pulls it off my body, and discards it over one shoulder.

When Reid sucks on my nipple, teasing it into a pebbled peak, I close my eyes. Arching my back, I silently beg for more.

He sucks, strokes, and bites until I’m a mixture of sounds and phrases, never wanting this moment to end.

Reid switches his attention to my other breast, dedicating the same time and attention as he did the first.

I moan, my fingers digging into his skin.

He groans, rocking against my center.

Moving from the wall, Reid carries me to the bed and throws me onto the mattress. Grabbing my ankles, he pulls me to where he stands at the foot of the bed, my legs hanging on either side of his strong thighs. Within seconds, my top button is undone, my zipper is lowered, and my pants are around my ankles. With a final tug, they’re clear of my body and thrown over one shoulder.

I shiver as the cool evening air hits my heated skin. Tingles break out, dancing across my almost-naked body. It’s difficult keeping still when I’m alight with sensation.

Reid drops to his knees, his mouth only inches from my lace-covered pussy.

Closing my eyes, I drop my head back.

“Look at me.” He bites my inner thigh.

My eyes fly open, and I meet his smoldering stare.

“You’re going to watch me feast on your pussy.” Leaning forward, his nose skims the length of my soaked G-string. He inhales deeply.

Gripping the coverlet, I try to hold back my moan.

He slides his hands up my sides, slipping his fingers under the strip of material before giving a sharp pull. The lace gives way.

I rise onto my elbows. “They were my favorite pair.”

His grin is wicked. “Mine too.”

He devours my pussy. Waves of pleasure flood me as Reid’s tongue circles my throbbing clit. “Oh, God. Reid.”

“Shh, darlin’. Let me take care of you. You know I will.”

The tenor of his low voice, his fingers pushing inside me, and his other hand sliding up my stomach to palm my breast have me writhing.

Pleasure builds, the intensity growing stronger with each flick of Reid’s tongue. My body comes alive with pulsing energy. The world around me darkens as specks of silver and gold dart across my closed lids.

“I want you to come all over my mouth.”

Sweet merciful Lord.

“And I’m going swallow every last drop.” He bites my clit. “Come. Now.”

Throwing my head back, I cry out as an orgasm tears me apart. It’s only when Reid murmurs words too soft to decipher as he licks his way across my hips, stomach, and ribs, that I’m put back together again.

Before I can process how amazing the experience was, he’s back on his feet. Still fully clothed.

Shifting to my knees, I grasp his belt buckle and unclasp it.

Reid watches with hooded eyes.

“Your turn.”

Chapter Forty-Five

Slowly, I undo his top button and lower the zipper. My knuckles graze his hard length on purpose.

Only, just as I’m about to slip my fingers inside his black boxers, Reid clutches my wrist, stopping me. With a small shake of his head, he steps back, reaching behind him. In a well-practiced movement, he pulls off his T-shirt, dropping it by his feet.

Man, I love it when he does that.

Standing before me in nothing but an open pair of jeans and dark boxers is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. His decorative tattoos start at the first joint of his fingers and cover the entirety of his forearms, biceps, and shoulders. They’re colorful too, the reds and blues seamlessly mingling with the blacks and grays.

Reid removes the remainder of his clothing.

No words do justice to how beautiful he is. “Fuck me.”

Reid grins, the dimple on his cheek showing.

My gaze drifts down his body, coming to rest on his impressive cock. Long, thick, hard. And pointed directly at me.

“Lie down, arms above your head.”

His commanding voice resonates with a need deep inside me, and I’m instantly wet. Scooting back, I do as he says. My hands brush against the headboard. “I want to touch you.”

“And I want you to write decent song lyrics, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?”

“Asshole.”

Reid’s smirk turns predatory as he stalks toward the bed. His strong arms and legs cage me in. “Are you on the pill?”

Biting my lip, I nod.

Lowering his hips, he rests between my open thighs. “I’m going to fuck you raw. When you’re on stage, my cum is still going to be inside you.”

I forget to inhale, and my lungs burn.

“Do you trust me?”

My exhale is soft. “You told me not to.”

His hips rock against my opening. “Shit’s different now.”

I gaze into his face, hoping the openness staring back is the start of a new tomorrow. One that we face together. “Is it?”

“Yeah.” He grinds against me.

Relief washes through me, and I sink further into the mattress.

His hand grips my jaw. “So?”

“Yes. Yes, I trust you.”

With a single thrust, he’s inside.

“Reid.” My back arches, vision swims, and I’m incredibly full. My body comes alive as his deep penetrating movements overtake every other feeling.

“Christ, darlin’. You’re fucking killing me.” After lifting my legs until they’re perched on his broad shoulders, Reid holds my hips, pinning me in place.

With each thrust, I scramble to hold on to the headboard. When his thumb brushes against my clit and his gaze burns trails across my breasts, I’m about to go up in flames.

He claims me. Over and over again.

My breathing is ragged as another orgasm builds. “Oh, shit.” This one is more intense, amplified by Reid’s rhythmic movements. When he twists his hips slightly, he finds my sweet spot.

I come apart.

But he isn’t finished.

Reid removes my legs from his shoulders and pushes them together, pressing them against the mattress on one side of him. From this position, it’s tighter, he can take me deeper, and I’m drunk from pleasure.

“When you’re on stage, you’re going to think of this. You’re going to think of me and my cum inside you. Nothing else.”

“Yes, yes,” I chant, a woman possessed.

He slaps my ass. “Who are you going to think of?”

Mouth parted, I moan, “You, Reid. Only you.”

Another deep thrust. “Good girl.” Leaning forward, his lips are as ruthless as his cock. “Are you ready, darlin’?”

I whimper.

“I’m going to fill your sweet pussy with my cum.”

His words, his kisses, his cock, it’s enough to send me over the edge yet again. Exploding light flashes as shockwaves of pleasure course through me. I call his name until it becomes a whispered prayer.

With a curse, Reid thrusts once, twice, three times. He pulses, a low groan sounding as he fills me with his seed.

We pant in the aftermath.

Minutes pass, but neither of us move. When the chaos finally settles, Reid takes a deep breath, pulling out of me. I gasp at the emptiness, and his gaze searches my face. It’s kinder than before.

Butterfly wings tickle my insides.

Reid’s stare travels the length of my body, coming to rest between my thighs. Possessiveness overtake his features as he pushes his cum back inside me.

My eyes widen in shock. “Damn, that’s hot.”

Silently, he moves off the bed. It doesn’t take him long to dress.

I already miss his scent, touch, and the weight of his body. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

My eyes trace his muscular form, committing it to memory. “I know it’s not allowed, but can you watch our performance?” Glancing away, I stare unseeing out the window. “I’d feel better if you were there. But I don’t want you to get caught or anything, so watch out for—”

Before I can finish, Reid is on top of me. His hands cup my face as he presses his lips to mine. “I’ll be there.”

Relieved, I exhale. “Thank fuck.”

A small smile teases his lips as he kisses me again. It’s gentle, worshipful, what we used to share.

With one last nip, he’s off the bed and striding toward the door. Moments later, it closes quietly behind him.

I lie back, staring at the off-white ceiling. Even though Reid’s gone, he’s everywhere. The reminders he’s left on my body like a patchwork blanket give me the strength to focus on what I need to do.

Win Rising Star.

Chapter Forty-Six

The boys and I work our asses off getting the next song ready. It’s not easy, but somehow, we manage. Despite Reid’s protest, I’m going ahead with the lyrics I wrote at the beach. We don’t have time to change them.

Standing in the wings, I stare at the restless crowd. My gaze turns to the overhead rig. I wish I could climb the rungs leading to the spotlights and hide behind the biggest one. Forever sounds like a good timeframe.

“You okay, sis? You’re looking a little pale.”

The acidic tang of bile burns the back of my throat. With a grimace, I swallow. “Yep. Fine.”

Jasper gives me a strange look but is distracted when Vivienne announces our band. “That’s us. Let’s go.”

He leads the way on stage. I’m thankful for the blinding PAR lights, since it means I can’t see past the foldback speakers.

But I can hear them.

The audience is hollering, applauding, stomping their feet on the polished concrete.

My heart pounds.

They’re hungry for our unique brand of rock, and I want to give it to them. I’d love to blow their ever-loving minds. But I want to run in the opposite direction more.

“Fuck.” After taking one last look at my bandmates, I move to where my Fender is perched on its stand beside the mic. Slipping the leather strap over my shoulder, I’m comforted by the familiar weight of the instrument. My fingers strum the steel strings. “You good?” I ask Jasper.

“So good.”

Turning to Tobias, I ask the same question. He settles on his seat, twirls his sticks, and nods.

When I shift my weight, there’s a blissful ache between my legs. The thought of Reid claiming me helps calm the raging storm. I focus on the discomfort and turn it into a force to be reckoned with.

Holding the mic, I sing.

We start off well. Ribbons of notes encircle, caress, and tease the audience. My body sways in time with the music, and I relish how my voice fills the arena. Jasper is on point, the fingers on his right hand flying over the fret board, while Tobias owns the drums, his sticks thrashing the skins.

Then some genius in the production room thinks it’s a stellar idea to turn up the house lights. Soon, the shadows become people, the people have faces, and the crowd becomes real.

Real people hurt.

Real people love.

Real people lose.

My throat tightens and I falter. Jasper shoots me a warning look. With a deep breath, I pull myself together. I pretend we’re back at our recording studio and this is another jam session.

Only, the security guards are shouting. One of the diehards in the front row launches off the stage in an epic dive, and the people perched on each other’s shoulders at the back scream their appreciation.

As far as rock shows go, it’s tame, but my fear doesn’t get the memo. It tries to overtake my body and shut me down. My head spins and the lyrics become abstract phrases making next to no sense.

The boys give me sneaky side-eyes, confused but trying not to show it.

They won’t let me get away with this for much longer.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Exhausted, I scan the after-party. People I barely know are talking, laughing, and helping themselves to drinks from my fridge. “Fucking Jasper.”

“Here.”

Taking the beer from Willow’s outstretched hand, I smile for the first time.

Willow slides her back down the wall, crouching next to where I’m sitting on the floor. “You did well tonight.”

My laughter is bitter. “Thanks.”

“What? You don’t think so? I loved your song.” Willow takes in the scene before us. “Is this why you’ve banished yourself to the corner of the living room?”

I rub my temples. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Willow stares at me, her forehead crinkling in concern. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Fine.” My smile is forced. With a grimace, I stand, tucking loose hair behind one ear. “I might head up to my room.”

“Uh-huh.”

I inch away. “Thanks for the drink. It was thoughtful of you. I’ll see you later.” With a half-hearted wave, I leave.

Once in my room, I put the beer on my side table and stand by the open window, letting the warm night air brush my skin.

There’s a soft knock at my door before Willow pokes her head inside. “Shiloh?”

“Wil, I said I’m fine.”

She steps into the room. “I know. Doesn’t mean I believe you though.” After making her way to my bed, she kicks off her shoes and sits cross-legged in the center of the mattress. Patting the comforter, she quirks her brow.

Grudgingly, I sit opposite her, my legs tucked beneath me.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Honestly?” I sigh. “No, not really.”

She looks away for a moment. “You know, I’ve been in your situation.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hear me out, okay?” When I nod, she continues. “A while ago I found out some pretty heavy stuff. For a long time, I didn’t tell anyone.” She glances out the window. “I guess I didn’t want to admit it was happening. Like, if I said it out loud, people would judge me.” Shaking her head, she murmurs, “People judge each other way too much.”

I take her hand and squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“So what did you do?”

“I spoke to someone. A professional. I’m not telling you to see a shrink or anything. If you want to, that’s your call.” Her expression is sincere. “But I found talking about my issues really helpful. And I’m here for you, okay?”

My fingers tease the material of my bedcovers, the cotton soft against my skin. It would be a relief to have someone to confide in. Someone who isn’t part of my band and won’t freak out since their future isn’t at stake.

It’s time. I need to offload. And who better than my good friend?

Straightening my shoulders, I look her in the eyes. “I’ve got enochlophobia.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Willow blinks, confused.

“It’s a fear of crowds.”

It takes a moment to sink in, but when it does, her eyes bulge. “Since when?”

“A while. It’s fucking inconvenient, let me tell you.”

Her mouth pops open. “Do the boys know?”

“No.”

“Not even your brother?”

“Especially not my brother.”

“Have you spoken to anyone about this?”

My index finger traces a pattern on the blanket. “Reid’s the only one who knows. Trust me, I didn’t tell him by choice. He figured it out himself.”

She’s quiet. Then, “How did he find out?”

Looking away, I scratch the back of my neck. “He knows me pretty well.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Makes sense. You and Reid, I mean. You’ve always had this”—her hand flails in the space between us—“connection. It was there when we were kids.”

“Yeah.” I try not to let my mind slip back into the past.

“What are you going to do about your enochlophobia? Is Reid helping you work through it?”

Teasing the threads of the blanket, I nod. “In a way, yes. We’ve, ah, tried immersion therapy and distraction therapy. Both seem to work pretty well.”

“I see.”

I sure as hell hope not.

“Shiloh.” The seriousness in her tone has me glancing up. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why is he helping you? I mean, we’re in competing bands, and up until a few weeks ago, he would leave the room whenever anyone said your name. Why is he doing this?”

I look past her to the shadows flitting across the walls, wondering if meaning can be drawn from the abstract shapes. “Honestly? I have no idea. The trouble is, the closer we get to finals, the larger the crowds are getting.” My pulse jumps. “I need him.”

“You worried about it?”

Returning her gaze, I nod. “Terrified.”

She smiles. “Then I’m glad Reid is helping you. He’s a good guy. An enigma but”—she smiles—“you know, solid.” Willow pauses. “So long as you don’t make the mistake of falling in love, you’ll be fine.”

Too late, Wil, I want to reply. Everything I have is his, and everything I am is because of him.

I just need him to love me back.

Chapter Forty-Nine

The next morning, I gingerly make my way downstairs. The house is quiet, though the evidence of last night’s party is everywhere. Empty bottles, pizza boxes, even discarded clothing is scattered throughout the house.

“Gross.” I sidestep a hot pink G-string left in the hallway.

“Morning.” Tobias is at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. “I crashed on the couch. Hope you don’t mind.”

I gesture to the hookerwear on the floor. “Please tell me you didn’t have a hand in that.”

“Do you mean literally or figuratively?”

I gag.

He smirks.

“That’s your brother’s handiwork, not mine.”

Shaking my head, I make some toast. Once done, I collapse into the chair next to Tobias.

A small smile plays about his lips.

“What?”

“Your hair.”

Swearing under my breath, I do my best to rectify my bed hair. It doesn’t work, and soon enough, I give up.

With a small smile, Tobias leans forward and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers trace the outer shell.

He’s never done it before.

Thankfully, his phone lights up, so he retracts his hand and picks up his cell. Reading the message, he scowls.

So predictable. “Trouble in paradise?”

Tobias shoves the phone away. “She’s doing my head in.”

I hold up my hands. “Hey, you already know my thoughts on the subject.”

He scrubs his twelve o’clock shadow, his fingers making a rasping sound. “She keeps telling me I’m not putting enough effort into our relationship, that I’m not prioritizing her.”

“Color me surprised.”

He glowers.

“Okay, okay.” Adopting a serious expression, I take a deep breath. “Tiffany knows you’re in the middle of a nationwide music competition, right? That this is a massive opportunity and rather than accuse you of”—my air quotation marks are stellar—“‘not prioritizing her,’ maybe she could be happy for you? Fuck, maybe she could even take a step back and let music be a priority right now?”

There’s a glimmer in his eyes I’ve never seen before.

“What?” I pat my hair, wondering if something is stuck in the knots.

“That’s what you’d do, isn’t it?”

Dropping my hand, I nod. “Well, yeah. I mean, this is a big fucking deal. I’d never take that away from anyone, especially the person I’m supposedly in love with.”

Tobias swallows. “There, ah, there might be a reason why she thinks I’m not prioritizing her.”

At his words, I seize up. It’s like I’m preparing to be punched.

Tobias watches me closely, waiting for a response.

I swallow. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He exhales. “Shiloh, I….” He scrunches his eyes closed before opening them again. Shifting in his seat, he pins them on me. “I need to tell you something.”

“You really don’t.”

He blinks, shifting back. “But you don’t know what I’m about to say.”

My voice is soft. “I think I do.”

“And you don’t want me to say it?”

I shake my head.

His features harden, and the light in him, the part that always burned for me, is gone. “Is it because of Reid?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not stupid. I know you guys are fucking.”

No. Just no.

I hold up my index finger. “First of all, I’ve never called you stupid. A dick, sure, but never stupid.” I hold up my middle finger. “And secondly, what Reid and I are doing is none of your damn business. You’ve got a girlfriend. She’s a shit one, but she’s yours. So don’t insult either of us by continuing this conversation.”

“You think my feelings for you are insulting?”

I rear back. “What? No, of course not.”

In a fluid movement, he stands, the wooden chair toppling to the ground in his haste. “I’m not good enough for you, is that it? I don’t have tattoos, a fucking smoldering stare, and the same ability behind a drum kit?”

“That’s not what I meant!” I try to grasp his hand, but he steps out of my reach.

“It is. And all that talk about me deserving better, that’s all it was, wasn’t it? Talk.”

“Of course not! If you would shut up for a minute—”

“No! You shut up!” He leans forward, his eyes glacial. “I thought you were everything Tiff isn’t, everything good in this world.” Shaking his head, his voice turns bitter. “Fuck, was I wrong. You’re exactly like her.” Then he twists the dagger piercing my heart. “You’re exactly the same.”

Tobias disappears down the hallway, and a moment later, the front door slams.

I stare at the emptiness mocking the space where my best friend used to be. My eyes blur as tears free-fall down my cheeks, uncaring when they land in my lap.

Only when hours have passed and I need to get to work do I stand, wipe my face with the back of my hand, and put one foot in front of the other.

Chapter Fifty

It’s a miracle we make it through to the semifinals.

I move through the days oscillating between freaking out about the upcoming song and hoping to God no one picks up on the animosity between Tobias and me.

It doesn’t work.

Band practices are stilted, production meetings are awkward, and by the time we make it to performance night, I’m ready to scream.

“Would you stop already? Your pacing is making me dizzy.”

I face my brother. “Fourteen steps. Did you know it takes exactly fourteen steps to move from one side of the greenroom to the other?”

“The fuck?” Jasper gapes at me. “Is this stage one of a mental breakdown?”

Tobias slips from the worn leather couch onto the floor. He gives a low laugh. It’s bitter and callous, a far cry from his usual cheerfulness.

I point at my brother. “I’m so fucking pissed with you right now.”

“He’s been PMSing all week. I thought it would loosen him up.”

“Before the semifinals? Are you fucking crazy?”

He throws his arms out to the sides. “How was I to know he’d drink the whole bottle of bourbon? At least it won’t affect his drumming. Remember the last time this happened? He was a beast on stage.”

Planting fisted hands on my hips, I glower. “It’s wrong for our band to benefit from his drunkenness. That’s not what friends do.”

“Well, help me get his ass back on the sofa then.”

Jasper and I wrestle Tobias back onto the couch. I murmur soft encouragement, while Jasper’s grunts are interspersed with some of the most colorful variations of the word dick I’ve ever heard.

We manage to get him upright as Willow enters the room. Drake and Reid stroll in behind her.

“Hey, guys,” she says. “We wanted to wish you luck.”

“And sabotage whatever we can get our hands on.” Drake winks.

Reid is silent.

If I wasn’t so distracted by the tempest whirling inside me, I’d congratulate them on making it through to the semifinals too. Leaning my back against the frigid brick wall, I close my eyes.

Fuck, I wish I were anywhere else.

I sense rather than hear him approach. It is the way the air crackles and fizzes whenever he’s nearby. Steeling myself, I peek one eye open. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Everything fades into soft focus. The voices, the laughter, the chaos, they blur and mute. Our world consists purely of him, me, and the energy glimmering between us.

I open my other eye. Reid steps closer, and for the first time in hours, I can breathe. On an inhale, I relish the way my ribs expand.

His gaze is fixed, searching, penetrating, concerned. It’s the concern that gets me.

Blinking away tears, I maintain eye contact. I need him to see the imperfectly fragmented version of myself no one else does. “I’m terrified.”

“I know.” Reid’s voice is deep.

I pretend it’s an endless hot spring and I disappear beneath the surface of the bubbling water until everyone forgets my name. “What am I going to do?” I’m not even sure if I’m talking about tonight’s performance anymore.

“You’re going to sing.”

“But—”

He moves nearer until our noses touch. Warm hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. “That’s the answer, darlin’. That’s the only answer.”

“Tobias hates me, there are heaps of people out there, and I am so fucking scared—”

He kisses me.

Reid presses his hard body against mine and the hands cradling my face angle my head to the side. His hips press against my stomach, and, despite my anxiety-riddled brain, I register him hardening against me.

God, I need him.

It is only when my hands are clawing at his shoulders that the catcalls and wolf whistles filter through my subconscious.

Greenroom.

Bandmates.

Shit.

I pull back.

Only, Reid refuses to let me go. Instead, he wraps my legs around his waist and forces my eyes on him. “No.”

“Reid—”

“You’ve got a show to play. That’s your priority, nothing else.”

“What about Tobias?”

Before I can search the room for him, Reid repositions his body so he’s blocking my view. He rolls his hips. “No distractions. You can sort shit out with him later. Right now, you need to get your head straight and your ass on stage.”

He’s right. It doesn’t stop my stomach from plummeting though.

Reid leans forward and sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. “You’ve got this.”

“Okay.”

He smiles. It’s so beautiful it hurts. “That’s my girl.”

“Am I?” Holding my breath, I wait for the answer I’ve waited years to hear.

Reid blinks. Then his mouth crashes into mine.

Ignoring the heckles and hollers from the others in the room, we kiss as though the world is on fire and we’re about to go up in flames.

“I’ll stand next to the lighting desk,” he murmurs against my bruised lips. “I won’t move from that spot.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I clutch his arms, terrified of letting go. Reid presses his forehead against mine. “You’ve got this, darlin’.”

With a final brush of lips, he releases my legs, and I slide down his body until my feet touch the floor. Reid skims his knuckles down the side of my face, then turns and saunters from the room. He flips Drake off on the way out.

A smile teases the corners of my mouth.

Chapter Fifty-One

I’m about to lose my mind.

Tobias is a jerk-faced weasel. He’s been fucking with our sound from the opening chord. He makes us wait longer in between drum fills, playing endless self-gratifying solos.

If he doesn’t get his shit together, I’m going to smack him in the face with my mic stand. And then I’m going to tell irony to shut the fuck up.

Jasper subtly shakes his head when he notices my irritation.

Gritting my teeth, I prepare for the chorus. Only, the lighting tech once again decides to turn up the house lights. He wants me to hold the mic out to the crowd while they sing the chorus back—they’ve memorized it already. Vivienne almost creamed her panties when he suggested it during the production meeting.

I thought he was joking.

In a perfect world, this is a brilliant idea. But it’s reality. It’s me being forced to confront my worst nightmare one nameless face at a time.

I freeze.

The only body parts that still function are my voice and my eyes. Frantically, I scan the crowd.

Reid is exactly where he said he would be. Shoulders set, arms crossed, he watches me with a determined expression.

I draw strength from him.

Closing my eyes, I listen to the crowd, my mic pointed in their direction. But in my mind, all I see is Reid whispering the words to me. Once the chorus is finished, the house lights fade and I’m once again saved by darkness. Blinking, I cradle the mic between my hands, throw my head back, and sing.

Like a motherfucking rock star.

Chapter Fifty-Two

As soon as we make our way off stage, Jasper herds Tobias and me into the greenroom. The door is barely shut before he rounds on us. “What the hell was with you tonight?”

It’s not directed at me.

Tobias stumbles to the side, the wall preventing him from falling over. “What’s my problem?” he slurs, his glazed eyes searching the room for another bottle of bourbon.

“Yeah, asshole. Your problem.” Jasper stalks over to where Tobias is fighting a losing battle against gravity. “You blew our song out by three minutes. You’re lucky Shiloh and I played like a fucking boss out there. What the fuck, man?”

Tobias slides to the left.

“It was all one big wank-fest for you. You didn’t give a shit about what’s at stake. You didn’t give a shit about either of us.”

Tobias pushes off the wall, his face inches from Jasper’s. “Now you know how it feels.” Shoving past my brother, he wrenches the door open and staggers from the room.

Jasper spins around, arms wide. “What in the actual fuck was that about?”

With a groan, I rub my forehead. “Tobias has feelings for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sadly, no. He told me the morning after the house party. Well, he tried to, but I didn’t let him. Anyway, he didn’t take it well.” I swallow. “He’s also pissed that I’ve been hanging out with Reid.”

“Wait.” Jasper holds up one hand, stopping me. “So the guy tells you he likes you—”

“I didn’t let him tell me. Jesus, is there nothing but static between your ears?”

“Moot point. The fact is, he’s into you, and you dry fuck someone else right in front of him?” Jasper shakes his head. “That’s cold, sis.”

“I didn’t plan on kissing Reid. It just kind of… happened.” Averting my gaze, I pace. “Look, I was in a weird headspace, all right? Reid was helping me deal with something and then it….” Even I recognize how pathetic that sounds. “It was a dick move, wasn’t it?”

My brother narrows his eyes. “You need to talk to Tobias.”

“Yeah, I know. But tonight’s not a good time for a deep and meaningful. He’s in a mood. I need to wait until he’s sober. Can you watch out for him? I’m the last person he wants to see right now.” Fear teases trickles across my skin. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

He rakes his hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.”

My shoulders sag with relief. “Thanks. I’m going to head home. Call me if you need anything.”

“You owe me,” he calls to my back.

Don’t I know it.

Chapter Fifty-Three

The drive home is a blur. By the time I pull into the driveway, I’m too exhausted to question how I got there.

Reid is waiting.

Neither he nor I say a word. With his head tilted, he scans my body.

I want to tingle, but I can’t summon the energy.

Large, calloused fingers take my hand, and he leads me across the street to the deserted playground.

The swings creak and sway in the warm breeze. The jungle gym has more shadows than light, and the old wooden boat we climb into could be straight off a horror film set. But when we lie back and gaze at the stars, the scenery turns spellbinding.

“How’s Tobias?”

My stomach drops past my spine. “Drunk.”

“He finally grew some balls and told you, huh?”

I turn to face him. “How did you know he had feelings for me?”

His lips curve into a knowing grin as silver eyes meet mine in the darkness. “He’s always wanted you. Remember the time we all went camping? You forgot your pillow, so he gave you his?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

“The ground was rock-hard.”

“But—”

“Or when he offered you his hoodie after you locked yourself out of the house?”

“So?”

“It was the middle of winter. During a thunderstorm.”

“Well—”

“How about when he asked you whether he should date Tiffany and you told him yes?”

“I was trying to be supportive.”

“He didn’t speak to you for a week afterward.”

“Goddammit.” Groaning, I throw one arm over my eyes.

I can sense him smirk.

After a moment, I remove my arm. “Being an adult is hard. Life gets so complicated.”

He stares at me, his gaze clear. “Not everything.”

Electricity thrums through my veins. “I want to go back to the way it used to be. Before it all went to shit.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it now. Might as well wake up tomorrow as the person you want to be.”

“It’s not that easy. The person I want to be is fearless, and every morning I wake up terrified. There is so much that scares me.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

I take in his features, the strong jaw, full mouth, straight nose, and long eyelashes. Something inside me cracks, then shatters. “What if you’re what I fear the most?”

Reid swallows. “You don’t fear me. You fear when I act as your mirror, reflecting a truth you can’t ignore, but not me.”

“Lie to me.” My voice is small, hesitant, hardly recognizable.

He stares at me. The real me. The woman who’s desperate to move forward yet unwilling to take the first step. Who wants to embrace love but is petrified of getting hurt. Who’s drowning in the past because her future is uncertain.

He cups my face. “You want me to lie to you?”

I nod. “Just this once.”

“All right.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Life is simple, darlin’. We always make the right choices, never hurt those we care about.”

A lance of pain shoots through me, and I close my eyes.

“Look at me.”

My body’s response is immediate.

Reid’s fingers delve into my hair, holding me firm. “Assholes die first, and good people live forever.” He stares at my lips. “Love is rainbows and motherfucking butterflies.” His mouth brushes mine. “And we all live happily ever after.”

Reid holds my heart in his hand, and he doesn’t even know it.

Chapter Fifty-Four

The stage lights are hot. Beads of sweat trickle down my cleavage.

Beside me sit Jasper and Tobias, their stares transfixed on Vivienne. She’s gesticulating to the camera, the gold chains of her bracelets rolling up and down her arms with each grandiose movement.

Opposite us sit Reid, Willow, and Drake.

My gaze keeps flitting to Reid. He’s so composed. Dark jeans hug his thighs. His black, long-sleeved Henley is pushed up muscular forearms. I watch, enraptured, as he pushes some strands of hair behind one ear.

I want him inside me.

Crossing my legs, I shift in my seat.

Jasper smiles for the sake of the camera, but when he looks at me, his eyes hold a warning. “Quit moving, we’re live.”

Tobias rests his elbows on his knees, pretending to nod and smile in agreement with what we’re saying. “Both of you, quiet. Vivienne is about to—”

“And the two bands moving through to the finals of Rising Star are….” Slowly, Vivienne opens the gilded envelope.

“Yes!”

The room explodes into madness. It takes a moment to register what’s happening, but once I do, Tobias and Jasper are on their feet, slapping each other on the back.

Behind us, more hollers are heard. We turn to see Willow’s band in the midst of a group hug.

“Shit. They made it through.”

Standing, I wrap an arm around my brother. “I’m glad they did. They deserve to be in the finals. Besides, they’ll force us to work harder and when we win”—I wink—“we’ll have bragging rights for the rest of our lives.”

His grin is wide. “You make a good point.”

Tobias doesn’t say anything. However, I can sense his entire demeanor shifting. The ecstasy fades and in its place springs annoyance.

After the announcements, we’re ushered into the boardroom for an interview.

Tobias takes the seat farthest from mine. I raise a questioning eyebrow, but he ignores me.

The interviewer is a slimy bastard. He’s sweaty, with bulging eyes that ogle my breasts. “So tell me,” Peter? Paul? Pervert? says once we’re all settled. “How does it feel being a finalist in Rising Star?”

“It feels great,” I bite out.

His gaze is firmly fixed on my cleavage. “I’ll bet.”

I cough, pointedly.

He blinks, and I’m surprised to learn that yes, he is capable of direct eye contact.

I quirk an eyebrow.

Pissed at being caught, his rheumy eyes narrow. “What do you think your chances are of winning the competition?”

Ignoring the familiar way my insides curdle, I counter, “Since we’ve made it this far, I’d say they’re pretty high.”

There’s something shifty about this guy. The desperation for a story wafts from the threadbare material of his coffee-stained shirt. “What do you know about the rival band?”

“I know they’re talented,” I reply, determined to hide my growing unease. “We respect them a lot. Drake’s vocals are powerful, Willow’s guitar skills are phenomenal, and Reid—”

Tobias snorts.

Pervert’s eyes dart to my friend, carefully observing his sardonic expression.

After clearing my throat, I continue. “And Reid is solid on drums.”

The interviewer pins Tobias with a stare. “What strategies are you going to use to win? Surely mind games would be at the top of your list?”

“We’re not that kind of band,” I interrupt. “We’re just going to focus on keeping our song tight, technical, and enjoyable.”

Pervert reverts his attention back to my breasts. “How commendable.”

Beside me, Jasper’s fingers flex. “Dude, we don’t want any trouble. That’s not what we’re about. They’re good friends of ours. We’d never ruin their chances of winning, just like they wouldn’t ruin ours.”

“You’re friends with the rival band?” His voice is incredulous.

“Of course,” my brother returns. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Tobias mutters under his breath.

“So you’ve known them a while?”

“Most of our lives,” Jasper confirms.

“You see each other often? Hang out a lot?”

I don’t like where this is heading.

My brother nods. “What’s your point?”

Pervert’s hairy fingers fly across the keyboard of his ancient laptop. Moments later, he turns it to face us, a promotional poster of our friends enlarged on screen. He studies each of us, watching our reactions. “They’re a good-looking band, wouldn’t you say?” His grin is smarmy. When he notices my pointed daggers, he holds up placating hands. “I’m simply trying to gather contextual information for the article, that’s all.”

“No, you’re not.” I won’t stay silent any longer. “You’re trying to cause drama where there isn’t any.”

Tobias shifts in his seat.

Pervert’s eyes flick to my friend. “Seems like your drummer has different ideas.”

Tobias crosses his arms, blinking slowly. “Seems like you’re talking about me like I’m not here.”

A small part of me wilts. This isn’t the Tobias I know and care about. He’s too defensive, too abrupt, too cold.

I miss my friend.

Not at all perturbed, Pervert leans forward, his elbows resting on the glass-top table. “Is there tension between the bands, Tobias? Romantic or jealousy-fueled rivalries, perhaps?”

Oh hell.

Tobias thinks for a moment, his head tilted. Eventually, he mutters, “Even if there was, I wouldn’t fucking tell you.”

I exhale.

“So there is tension?”

“There’ll be tension if you don’t stay on topic.” Jasper shoots him a scathing glare.

The journalist meets my brother’s stare, his expression calculated. “Your family must be very proud of you, Jasper. Making it to the finals is quite an achievement.”

He nods once. “They are.”

“All of them?”

“Yep.”

Pervert’s top lip curls in derision. “Even your parents?”

I take a calming breath. It takes everything I have not to punch the reporter in the face.

Jasper’s jaw ticks.

I take his hand. My thumb traces calming circles on his skin, similar to when we were kids.

“If our parents were alive, they’d be fucking proud of us,” Jasper growls.

Pervert spends several minutes typing away, then squints, reading the screen. His eyes dart between Jasper and me. “I was looking through some old articles and found interesting information about the deaths of”—he consults his notes—“Georgina and Marcus.”

Hearing him say Mom and Dad’s names causes a red mist to descend.

Sensing my temper, Jasper gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Their death is on public record. What happened is common knowledge,” I bite out.

“But is it?”

My heart stills. Retracting my hand from Jasper’s, I lean forward. “You’d better tread carefully. My brother and I don’t take kindly to ignorant jerks making assumptions about shit they don’t know.”

His smile is tight. “How about I tell you what I do know, and you fill in the blanks?”

How about I punch you in the face? I want to reply.

Pervert consults his notes. “Georgina and Marcus’s car crashed at 3:48 a.m.” He quirks a bushy brow. “A strange time to be out driving, don’t you think?”

My nostrils flare.

“It happened three years ago, in December. The same night you attended a concert where fifteen spectators were shot dead in a”—again, he checks his notes—“mosh pit.” Pervert pins me with a direct stare. The whites of his eyes are yellow. “You attended a rock concert and, four hours later, called your parents to pick you up from—” I squirm as he reads a familiar address off the screen.

I slip my hands beneath my thighs so I don’t strangle him.

“I’ve got a question for you, Shiloh.”

“Shoot,” I grit out, wishing like fuck I could.

“You were eighteen at the time. That’s a bit old to be calling your parents for a lift, don’t you think?”

“Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but my car wouldn’t start. Jasper was out of town, Tobias had food poisoning, and Willow was away at college. So yeah, I called Dad to come pick me up. Since Mom didn’t want Dad to fall asleep at the wheel, she got in the car too.”

“Hmm.”

Arrogant prick.

Pervert’s double chin rests on steepled fingers. “Whose house were you at?”

“A friend’s.”

“A friend’s?”

“Is there an echo in here? Yes, a friend’s.”

“Why would you want to get picked up from a friend’s house at three in the morning?”

“Are you an investigative journalist now? Is this the moment you’ve been waiting for? The one where you finally have you your big break?” My laugh is harsh. “Pathetic.”

But he continues as though I haven’t spoken. “See, I’m thinking you had an argument with this friend.”

Fucker. “Think whatever you like.”

He cocks his head to one side. “I looked up the address, and do you know what I discovered?”

“That you’re a lonely, middle-aged man who whacks off to pictures of cheerleaders from high school?”

Pervert’s grin is smug. “I discovered Reid Tate lived at that address. Still does.”

Beside me, Jasper mutters a curse while Tobias blinks, looking confused.

Pervert goes in for the kill. “You’re adamant there’s no animosity between the bands, yet you make what can only be described as a distress call from the house of your rival. And that same phone call was the catalyst for your parents’ untimely deaths.” He shakes his head, his voice mocking. “I’d say that’s reason enough for tension. Wouldn’t you?”

Chapter Fifty-Five

Jumping to my feet, I glower. “Mom and Dad’s death was an accident. The road was covered in ice, and they lost control of the car. It. Was. A. Freak. Accident.” My breathing is labored. “There’s no tension between our bands because unlike you, they’re wonderful people. So you need to change your angle here, asswipe. Instead of manufacturing a scandal that will upgrade your pathetic four-by-four cubicle to a corner office overlooking the communal watercooler, focus on the real reason we’re here. The music.”

Jasper is on his feet beside me, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are white. Tobias is equally pissed, his emerald eyes shooting sparks of hatred.

Hair whips into my eyes when I spin toward my bandmates. I don’t bother brushing it aside. “I’m out.” Without a second glance, I storm from the boardroom, slamming the door behind me.

It doesn’t take long to drive home. It takes even less time to throw my bag in the hallway and stomp to the living room, where I pace from one end of the shabby Persian rug to the other.

Jasper and Tobias arrive a short while later. Their footsteps echo down the hallway, and soon enough, my brother collapses on the couch, his long legs spread wide. Tobias leans against the far wall, arms crossed, glaring.

We’re all silent.

Finally, Jasper breaks it. “Is what Derek said true?” There are dark rings under his eyes, and his cheeks are hollow.

My feet pause in their trek across the worn wool. “Hey, you all right?”

He waves away my question. “Well?”

I tip my chin. “Depends on what brand of bullshit you’re referring to.”

“Enough with the dramatics already.” He sighs. “Were you at Reid’s house the night Mom and Dad died?”

I give a sharp nod.

He swears under his breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Biting my tongue, I glance away.

“Is that why you haven’t spoken to Reid in so long? Because of an argument?”

I remain quiet.

“Fucking hell, sis.” Jasper throws his hands in the air. “Use your damn words.”

“Okay,” I exclaim, annoyed at his insistence. “Part of the reason why I stopped talking to Reid was because of what happened that night.” I pause. “But it wasn’t an argument.”

“Then what was it?”

Not wanting to reopen the wound, I tuck some hair behind my ear. “Can we just drop it? I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I literally cannot force the words out.” Wrapping my arms around myself, I glance at my brother. “Please.”

“But that’s your problem!” Tobias cries. “You never talk to anyone! You spend your life with the weight of the fucking world on your shoulders because you never let anyone in.” He thumps his fist against his chest. “I’m meant to be your closest friend and you don’t even trust me with your secrets.” He points at Jasper. “And if he’s in the dark on this too, then you don’t trust him either.” Dropping his hand, he raises an eyebrow. “Do you trust Reid?”

I take a deliberate step toward him. “You’d better check yourself. You’re starting to sound like Derek 2.0.”

“Tobias has a point, sis,” Jasper interjects.

My mouth drops open as I turn to my brother. “You cannot be serious.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird Reid is putting the moves on you now?”

I lift my index finger. “Firstly, no, it’s not weird. It’s a coincidence.” Raising a second finger, I continue, “And secondly, he’s not ‘putting any moves on.’ He’s helping me with something.”

Tobias snorts.

I round on him. “What the fuck is with you?”

“Sis, chill.” Exasperated, Jasper turns from me to our drummer. “Dude, enough. You’re both driving me fucking insane.” After rubbing his eyes with his palms, he drops his hands into his lap. “Look, I feel like an asshole saying this, but we need to know for sure. Do you think Reid has ulterior motives?”

My voice is slow and measured. “You mean, is our longtime friend sabotaging our only shot at a recording contract because of an event that happened three years ago?”

He winces. “Yeah.”

There’s a long stretch of silence. I don’t try to break it. Instead, I let it reinforce the ridiculousness of his question.

“Sis—”

“You know you’re playing into Derek’s hands, right? The guy is so desperate for a story, he’s starting trouble between our bands. He wants us to second guess each other’s intentions so he can sit back and marvel at the shitstorm he created.” My voice is hard. “Stop falling for it.”

“Stop falling for Reid.”

I shoot a withering glare at Tobias.

“Maybe you should keep your distance from Reid?” Noticing my murderous expression, Jasper’s words become rushed. “Just for this week, until the competition is over.”

“No.”

“Come on, sis. We’ve worked our asses off to get this far. We can’t let anything come between us and the recording contract.”

“You mean, we can’t let a man who’s never given us reason to doubt his integrity come between us and the recording contract?”

He glances away. “It’s only for a week.”

“No fucking way.”

Tobias raises his chin. “Either you stop seeing him or I quit the band.”

“What?” my brother and I cry in unison.

“I’m serious. It’s either him or me. You need to make a decision here and now.”

Jasper is on his feet, his arms outstretched. “Tobias, dude, you can’t do this. What about Rising Star?”

Tobias’s eyes are wild. “What about it? The competition doesn’t mean shit if your loyalties aren’t with your own fucking band.” He stares me down. “So what’s it going to be?”

There’s a knock at the door. No one moves to answer it.

“Shiloh?” Tobias says.

Another knock.

“Well?”

And again.

With an exasperated groan, I shoulder past him. When I swing open the front door, my breath catches. Tingles and tremors break out on my skin. My heart is full yet splinters at the same time. “Reid.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

“Reid, hey, man. What’s up?” Jasper’s pitch is way off.

“Hey.”

With stilted movements, Jasper gives Reid a fist bump. Then, seemingly unsure what to do with his hands, runs them through his hair. His eyes dart around the room.

From his position against the wall, Tobias glowers at our guest. He doesn’t greet him, doesn’t even nod in acknowledgement.

Crossing my arms, I scowl at his rudeness.

Reid scans the room, taking in Jasper’s awkwardness, Tobias’s reticence, and my annoyance. There’s a pregnant pause. “I’m interrupting.”

“No—”

“Yes—”

Tobias and I glare at each other while Jasper swears under his breath.

Pushing away from the wall, Tobias saunters toward Reid. “We were in the middle of a band meeting.” He rolls his shoulders as though preparing for a fight.

Reid sizes him up, then looks away, unimpressed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tobias cracks his knuckles. “What do you want?”

“Hey.” Pushing against his chest, I force him back. “Stop acting like a dick. This isn’t even your damn house.”

“You’re taking his side now?”

I reel back. “What are you talking about? There aren’t any sides to take.”

Fury emanates from his tall frame.

Jasper clears his throat, asking Reid, “What can we do for you, bro?”

Reid pins me with a stare. “Wanted to talk to Shiloh.”

His gaze roams my body. Despite all the drama, my skin flushes and my breasts grow heavy.

“Why?”

“Tobias!”

“What?” He throws his hands in the air. “I can’t even ask a fucking question now? You know what? Fuck this shit.” Spinning on his heel, he stomps down the hallway. A moment later, the front door slams shut.

“He’s on his period,” Jasper tries to joke, backing away. “I’m going to get him some maxi pads and a tub of ice cream.” Catching my eye, he warns, “Remember what we spoke about.”

But all thoughts of sabotage evaporate when Reid takes my hand. “Let’s go.” He leads me upstairs to my room. “I won’t stay long.”

“Why not?”

“You’ve got a song to write.”

I groan. “Don’t remind me.”

When we step inside my bedroom, I disentangle our fingers. Having Reid in my personal space during the day feels like we’re crossing boundaries we swore we wouldn’t. It reminds me of years ago, when we spent lazy afternoons listening to music while lying on my Aztec rug. We’d share flirtatious smiles, finding any excuse to touch each other. Everything was fair game, hair falling in eyes, shirts exposing skin, crumbs left on lips.

Walking over to my bed, I sit down. “What’s up?”

Reid doesn’t make eye contact either. He scratches his jaw, the scruff on his chin sounding rough against his fingers. “Wanted to see how your interview went.” Strong hands are shoved deep within his jean pockets. “We just finished ours. Journalist was a dick, kept bringing up shit from ages ago. Got on my fucking nerves.”

I glance out the window at the sparrow on the branch outside. It chirps before taking flight. I wish I could follow it, see where it disappears to.

Footfalls echo on the hardwood, and before long, Reid stands before me. Nudging my legs apart with his knees, he steps between them. “You all right?”

My fingers tentatively play with the hem of his shirt. It’s soft, a stark contrast to the corded muscles underneath. With eyes fixed on the black material, I shrug. “Yes and no.”

Lifting my chin with his thumb and forefinger, he stares at my lips. “Did he give you a hard time?”

My tongue darts out to wet my cupid’s bow.

His nostrils flare.

“Yeah. And now the boys are worried.”

He pushes me back onto the mattress. Reid cages my body, but rather than feel trapped, it’s comforting.

“What are they worried about?”

“You,” I whisper.

His stare never wavers. He doesn’t shift, blink, nothing. “Why would they be worried about me?”

I bite my bottom lip.

Ducking his head, Reid pulls it from my teeth with his mouth. His tongue caresses the indentations left behind. “Well?”

My fingers delve into his loose hair, drawing it away from his face. I search his gaze, already sure of the answer, yet needing to ask anyway. “Are you playing mind games with me?”

He stills.

“Is spending time with me your way of getting inside my head?”

Reid draws back, his quicksilver irises darting between mine. “I thought that was the whole point.”

My hands drop to the coverlet. My heart plummets further.

“If I’m inside your head, there’s no room for your phobia. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“It was. I mean, it is.” Glancing away, I mutter, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what the fuck did you mean?”

I rub my forehead with tense fingers. “The boys want me to keep my distance from you.”

“Why?”

“They think you’re trying to sabotage our chances of winning Rising Star.”

When his body turns ramrod straight, I look at him. Before his expression turns arctic, hurt flashes across his features. “So that’s what your band meeting was about?” Straightening to his full height, Reid steps away. “My intent to screw you over?” He paces the room, a caged tiger ready to pounce. “I expected this petty bullshit from Tobias, but Jasper?” His hands clench and unclench by his sides.

Scrambling to my feet, I reach for him. “Reid, stop.” The muscles on his forearms are taut. “Look, I’m sorry. It was a stupid question to ask.”

“You’re fucking right it was.” He glares at the barren branch outside, his jaw working hard. “Tobias is jealous.”

“I know.”

“And Jasper is scared.”

“Yeah.”

He pins me with a stare. “What about you?”

I falter. “Me?”

“Yeah.” His gaze is fierce. “What’s your excuse?”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Our eyes clash.

It takes everything I have not to run for the door. Instead, I stand tall, square my shoulders, and admit, “You.”

His jaw tightens.

“You’re my excuse.” I lean into him. “Don’t you get it? You’re the epicenter of my world.”

There. I said it.

My pulse rages in my ears, my skin is on fire, and my ribs expand and contract with hasty breaths.

There’s nothing for me to hide behind now. If Reid turns to leave, at least it’s with the knowledge that I told him what my tattered heart has kept secret for so long.

Only, instead of walking away, he pushes hair back from my face, long fingers digging into my skin. When he speaks, his voice is rough. “No matter what anyone says, remember this: when we kiss, touch, when my cock is buried inside you and you scream my name as you come, what we have is fucking real.”

Warm fingers trail the length of my neck and collarbone before skimming the sides of my swollen breasts. “There’s no escaping it.” Reid’s expression twists. “Fuck knows I’ve tried.”

I press my hands to his chest. His thundering heartbeat hammers against my palm. “Me too,” I whimper. “For years.”

“I wanted to stay angry, keep my distance, and get on with my life.” Dipping low, he rests his forehead against mine. “But I can’t. You lure me back every damn time.”

Needing him nearer, inside me somehow, I wrap my arms around his neck. Reid rolls his hips, his growing erection heavy on my stomach. I press against his tall frame, hoping he can feel how my heart, slowly repairing itself, beats only for him.

With a low growl, he dips his head and devours me. His tongue delves inside my mouth, claiming it as his own. Moments later, he pulls away, breathing hard. “Take off your shoes.”

Within seconds, my patent leather heels fly toward the door.

Reid backs me against the cream wingback chair in the corner. His hands make quick work of my skintight pants, and soon enough, they too are flung across the room. He kneels, presses his nose against my lace-covered pussy, and inhales. A low groan rumbles from deep within his chest. “Fuck, you smell good.”

My fingers caress his wavy hair. They delve through the thick strands, massaging his scalp.

Reid bites my clit in response.

I gasp.

“When are you going to learn?” His eyes are anguished as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties, slowly pushing them over my hips.

They slide down my thighs, falling to the floor. Gingerly, I step out of them. “Learn what?”

“That you’ve always been mine.”

Before I have a chance to respond to his world-altering declaration, Reid positions me so I’m sitting in the chair, my legs draped over each armrest.

I’m so open to him. I’m holding my soul outstretched in my hand, begging for him to keep it safe.

Reid’s pupils dilate. “Lose the shirt.”

Despite my trembling fingers, I do as he says.

“And the bra. I want to see you play with those luscious tits. The ones only I’m allowed to see.”

“Jesus.” I unclip the center hook, my breasts spilling from the lace.

Reid’s groan is guttural and pleasure-filled. His tongue flicks my swollen clit while his fingers tease my entrance.

Tingles break out on my skin.

His fingers press deeper, homing in on my G-spot. “Pinch your nipples.”

With a soft moan, I comply. The pebbled peaks are sensitive, and waves of pleasure wash over my body.

“Harder.”

Silver flecks appear before my eyes. Erotic sensation forms in my lower stomach. It throbs, pulses, then explodes.

His mouth is fixed on me during one of the most intense orgasms of my life. When the tremors finally subside and I’m left a boneless heap, he nips and kisses my inner thighs.

Gaze tender, he stands. Turning, he makes to leave.

“Reid, wait.”

With his back to me, he pauses.

Padding over to where he stands, I skim my hand down the length of his spine. There is a slight tremor, but he remains silent. “Look at me.”

He turns. His expression, though warm, is guarded.

Don’t you see? I’ll never hurt you again, I want to say.

Only, the wariness in his gaze warns me to take it slowly. If I push for too much too quickly, he’ll pull away.

My tongue darts out to lick my bottom lip. “You’re leaving?”

“That was for you, not me.”

Fuck, I love this beautifully selfless man.

Glancing away for a split second, I gather the courage I need before facing him again. “Let me show you that you’re mine, too.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Reid considers me, gauging my sincerity.

I have nothing to hide. For once, there are no secrets. He already knows everything: the good, the bad, the horrific. It’s equal parts liberating and terrifying.

Finally, he nods.

Emboldened, I skim my hands up his forearms, over his biceps, and let them rest on his shoulders. Standing on the balls of my feet, I tip my head back and nip his chin. “Lose the shirt.”

The corner of his mouth quirks.

I wink, loving repeating his demand.

Reaching behind his head, Reid grabs the neckline of his Henley and tugs. Moments later, the shirt drops to the floor. This man’s upper body is insane. Artistic tattoos, defined pecs, that damn nipple ring, chiseled abs, and an indented V leading to his hard cock nestled behind the confines of his boxers and jeans.

My tongue traces the titanium bar in his nipple. “I love your body.” Pressing my lips to his pounding heart, I continue, “I love your scars, even though I’m the one who caused most of them.”

He inhales a deep breath.

“I’m truly sorry. I want you to know that.”

Then exhales.

I drop to my knees, ridding him of his clothes, and when I glance up again, he’s naked. This man is the answer to my every dream, fantasy, and prayer.

And he’s mine.

My gaze darts to his face. “I want to taste you.”

With deliberate movements, Reid gathers my hair in a ponytail. He pulls down, tipping my head back.

Pleasure-filled pain dances across my skin.

“Open your mouth for me, darlin’.”

When I kiss the tip of his cock, he shudders. When I run my tongue along the length of his shaft, he groans. When I take him so deep in my mouth the crown hits the back of my throat, he mutters, “Goddamn Jesus motherfucking Christ.”

I don’t know how much time passes, and I don’t care. It’s so easy to lose myself in Reid, because his pleasure becomes mine. His every thrust, every grunt, every breath is perfection. Knowing I’m the source of his ecstasy is the most insane high I’ve ever experienced.

While massaging his balls in one hand, I pump the length of him with my other. My tongue twirls and flicks the head. He’s silken, salty, delicious.

His thrusts become quicker, his moans louder. “Fuck, Shiloh. I’m going to—”

I moan, refusing to break eye contact. The vibrations in my throat tip him over the edge, and jets of hot cum shoot into my mouth. I swallow it all.

Reid’s head is thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing while he gulps mouthfuls of air. His broad chest glimmers with a faint sheen of perspiration, and his hands remain entangled in my hair.

He’s never looked more perfect.

Once recovered, he helps me to my feet. His strong arms wrap around my small frame, holding me against him.

With my ear pressed against his chest, I count the rhythmic beats of his pulse. “You okay?”

He nuzzles my neck. “Yeah. You?”

I press my lips to his skin. “Yeah.”

“That was….” Shaking his head, he lets out a long breath. The unspoken words hang between us, twinkling fairy lights illuminating the dark.

He leans back and brushes my lips with a finger.

I smile, relishing the contact. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For reminding me what I’m fighting for.”

His lips brand my skin.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

“How’s songwriting going?”

I nod. “Good. Great. It’s going really, ah, great.”

Willow blinks, throws her head back, and laughs. “You haven’t written anything, have you?”

“Not a word.”

She wipes away tears. “Yeah, the bobblehead impersonation gave it away.”

Slumping against the wall, I curse.

My friend indicates the closed door of rehearsal room five. The door Tobias is yet to walk through today. “So what’s going on? Why are you standing in the hallway and not jamming with the boys inside?”

I slip my phone into my back pocket. “We’re waiting on Tobias. He’s….” My gaze scans the empty corridor. “There’s a lot going on at the moment.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Willow settles against the opposing wall, propping one foot behind her. “I don’t have to meet the boys for another twenty minutes.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I pause. Then, because I trust her implicitly, offload in a rush. “The finals are this week, Tobias threatened to leave the band because Reid and I are seeing each other, and—”

Willow holds up both hands. “Whoa. Back up.” She shakes her head, her words slow and deliberate. “You and Reid are seeing each other?”

I shrug. “Kinda.”

“Reid Tate?”

“Yeah.”

“The drummer? As in, the drummer from my band?”

Irritated, I push away from the wall. “For fuck’s sake. Yes, Reid Tate, the drummer from your band. Is there another one I don’t know about?”

“Wow. This is huge. Bigger than huge. It’s, like, gigantic.” She visibly shakes herself. “No wonder he hasn’t been grinding his teeth lately. And he almost smiled last week.”

Despite my annoyance, a smile threatens.

“Yesterday, he was staring at his bass drum when the corner of his mouth twitched. He looked… happy. It was weird.”

“Almost as weird as your reaction right now?”

Willow smiles, waving me away. “You know what I mean.” Then, sobering, she asks, “But what does Tobias have against the two of you seeing each other? Don’t tell me he finally admitted his feelings and is hurt because you’ve chosen Reid over him?”

I cover my eyes with my hand. “Was I the only person who didn’t know he liked me?”

“Pretty much.” She laughs. “Drake wanted to bet on how long it would take for Tobias to man up and tell you, but Reid told him if he did, he’d wake up with his own dick in his mouth.” A cheeky smile escapes. “And now I know why.”

I shake my head.

“So, you and Reid. Is your relationship serious?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe it. We just… are.”

A dreamy look crosses her face.

“Wil?”

“It’s so romantic.” Her voice is wistful.

“Um, pretty sure Reid and I are the least romantic people in existence.”

But she continues regardless. “Childhood sweethearts separated by fate only to find their way back together again.”

“I’m gonna go now.”

Just as I’m about to open the studio door, she calls, “Wait.” Her eyes are suddenly clear. “Why would Tobias threaten to quit the band if you’re seeing Reid?”

I consider how to phrase it. “He and Jasper want me to stay away from Reid until after the competition is over.”

She stares at me. “Why?”

“Um….”

Her gaze narrows. “Shiloh?”

“Okay, okay.” I push loose hair behind my ears. “They think Reid might want to sabotage our chances of winning Rising Star.” Holding up placating hands, I continue in a rush. “Which is ridiculous because he’d never do anything like that.”

Pause. “You’re joking.”

“Sadly, no.”

The tips of Willow’s ears turn pink, a sure sign she’s pissed. “They honestly think Reid is capable of sabotage?”

“Apparently so.”

“But—” She splutters. “But that’s fucked. He’d never do anything like that.”

“I know.”

Her shoes echo on the concrete. “They’ve known each other since they were kids! How could Tobias and Jasper possibly— Wait. What about me? If the boys don’t want you hanging out with Reid, then they wouldn’t want you talking to me either.”

I soften my tone. “Wil, relax. I’m not going to stop seeing Reid, and I definitely won’t stop hanging out with you either. Tobias is hurting at the moment. He’s lashing out, that’s all. He’ll come around.”

She crosses her arms. “What’s your brother’s excuse then?”

“Syphilis-induced insanity?” I move to where she stands glowering at the white wall. “Look, do I care about my bandmates’ opinions? Of course. Do I want to win this competition? Absolutely. Am I willing to sacrifice those I care about to do it?” I shake my head. “Hell no.” Wrapping my arm around her, I pull her to my side. “I’d never do that to you.”

“What if my band wins?”

“Never going to happen.”

We chuckle before falling quiet.

Eventually, her voice breaks the silence. “So what are you going to do?”

“I have no freaking idea.”

“You might want to think of something fast, because Tobias is heading this way.”

Chapter Sixty

I let go of Willow.

Heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway.

I glance over my shoulder. Tobias’s head is down, his hands are deep in his pockets, and an air of despondency surrounds him. It breaks my heart.

When he’s close, I clear my throat. “Hey.”

Soulful green eyes flick to me, then Willow. “Hi.”

Beside me, Willow straightens. “I’d best be off.” She flashes me a warm smile. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Wil.”

Tobias and I are quiet long after she’s gone. He shifts from one foot to the other, refusing to meet my gaze. “What did she want?”

“To learn all our band secrets so she can use them against us. Come on.” I grab his hand, leading him toward the cafeteria. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days. You’ll be useless at band practice without some carbs.”

A burger and fries later, he’s still silent.

After swallowing the last of my lunch, I push the plate away. “What’s going on? You didn’t give me shit for talking to the enemy, so it must be bad.”

“I don’t like you hanging with her this close to the finals. I don’t like you hanging with any of them.”

“I know. You made that perfectly clear yesterday.”

Tobias scrunches his napkin into a ball and drops it on the table. He rakes his hands through his hair, tugging the ends. “So you’ve chosen them over me?”

Leaning forward, I catch his gaze. “No, I haven’t. This isn’t middle school. I’m not picking sides. I love you more than life itself, but your ultimatum is unfair.”

He stares over my shoulder, his index finger tapping a rapid beat on the laminate.

“Is this why you were late to band practice? Because you’re upset over how we ended things yesterday?”

The beat intensifies until my soda can dances toward the edge of the table. I pick it up and put it back in the center.

Tobias pushes his chair back and stands. He moves behind it, clutching the back until his knuckles turn white. He bows his head, breathing hard.

I wait him out.

“Can I crash at your place for a few days?”

His question takes me by surprise. “Of course. Stay as long as you like.” I consider him. “Are you going to sit down and tell me what all of this is about?”

Straightening, he refuses to look me in the eye. “Walked in on Mom fucking her PA. In my bed.”

“In your bed?” I gape.

Tobias glances around the cafeteria, then glares at me. “Christ, Shiloh, want to yell louder next time? Not sure everyone heard you in Beirut.”

I grimace. “Sorry, but what the actual fuck? What the hell was your mom doing at your house, let alone in your bedroom?”

He shrugs. “She comes over sometimes. Usually it’s after a fight with Dad.” He grits his teeth. “I need to change the locks.”

“Unbelievable.” Massaging my temples, I try to take it all in. “Does your dad know?”

Tobias nods.

“What did he say?”

“What he always does. That she’s an attention-seeking whore and one day he’s going to divorce her.”

“Bloody hell.” It’s difficult trying to understand his dysfunctional family. “So your mom is punishing your dad for sleeping around by fucking her PA in your bed? Dude, your parents are messed up.”

“They’re vindictive and bitter. Remind me never to get married.”

“Noted. So is she staying at your place?”

“Yeah, until Dad takes her back again.”

I hope to God my expression is as earnest as I feel. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better parents, truly.”

My comment earns a sad smile. It’s small and disappears quicker than it arrived.

I trace the indents left on the laminate with my finger. “Not that her opinion matters or anything, but won’t Tiffany hate you living with Jasper and me? She’s not exactly our biggest fans.”

“No.”

When Tobias doesn’t explain any further, I really worry. “Why not?”

He meets my confusion head-on. “She broke up with me last night.”

My eyes bulge.

“Says it’s what I get for being a selfish prick. She’s already got another date lined up for the opening of that new bar in town.” His laugh is bitter. “Man, you should have seen the look on her face when she told me. She was so fucking victorious.”

What. A. Bitch.

I swallow back the brewing storm. “I know I’m sounding like a broken record here, but I’m so sorry, Tobias.”

“It is what it is, I guess.”

“What it is, is fucked.”

He nods.

“We need to get you behind the drums. It’ll help take your mind off things. Jasper and I have been working on this kickass riff, just wait until you hear it. It’s going to blow your mind.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m not feeling it today. Might head back to yours and crash for a bit.”

“But the finals—”

Tobias’s eyes are pleading. “I’ve had a shit-ton of fuckery thrown at me in the last twelve hours. I need time to process. Please.” He grips the back of his neck. “Is the spare key where you normally keep it?”

I nod.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” With one last tap on the laminate, he ambles away.

I watch his slow progress, concern growing with each step.

Chapter Sixty-One

By the time my feet cross the threshold of the practice studio, Jasper is striding toward me. “Where have you been? Where’s Tobias? Am I the only one who realizes finals are this week?”

I hold up both hands. “Pump the brakes, buddy. Give me a chance to breathe, will you?”

He glares. “Where’s Tobias? You said you were stepping into the hallway to call him, and that was over an hour ago. What the hell happened?”

“He’s at home.”

“Why the fuck is he at home? We need to get this song finished.”

“Our home.”

“What?” My brother pinches the bridge of his nose, drawing a deep breath. “What the fuck is going on?”

“His parents are a bag of dicks. They’ve fucked him over again. And Satan’s spawn, aka Tiffany, broke up with him last night.”

“Jesus, the guy can’t catch a break.”

“Tell me about it. I said he could stay with us for a while.”

“Sis, I don’t care if he moves in for good, but we need to get this song written.”

“He’s not in the best headspace at the moment.”

“So he’s by himself?”

Unease crawls up my backbone, one vertebra at a time. “Yeah.”

“At our house?”

I swallow. “He wanted space.”

“With enough bottles of liquor to fill Lake Michigan twice over?”

All the blood drains from my face. “Shit.”

He shoulders past me. “Let’s go.”

Hastily grabbing my bag, I follow. “You had to stock up, didn’t you?” In a high-pitched voice, I mock, “Bourbon is on sale, sis. Let’s get three bottles. Oh look, whiskey. Let’s get that too. Hey, is that vodka?”

“Shut it.”

“Ass.”

“Pain in my ass, more like.”

We bicker for the remainder of the drive home. Jasper and I don’t let up as we unlock the front door and our voices echo in the entryway. However, as soon as we’re greeted with the sight of our friend in the living room, we stop.

“Fucking hell.” Jasper surges forward, forcibly removing the almost empty bottle of Jack from Tobias’s grasp.

Not that he puts up much of a fight. The drummer lies sprawled on the couch, head back, legs hanging off the end, and arms draped over the side.

“I’ll get him some water.”

After a quick trip to the kitchen, I kneel beside my best friend. It’s almost impossible to get the man conscious and even more difficult getting him upright. So I place the full glass on the coffee table, and Jasper and I get to work.

Once Tobias is vertical and semiconscious, I hold the drink to his lips. “Here.”

He drinks.

“Christ, Tobias.” I return the glass to the coffee table. “I know you’re hurting, but this isn’t the way to deal with it.”

Jasper crouches beside me. “We need you sober, man.”

Tobias mutters something unintelligible, his head lolling back.

Turning to my brother, I take in the worry lines on his face. “What are we going to do?”

His jaw is clenched. “Hide every damn bottle in the house. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on him while you write lyrics. Production meeting is tomorrow.”

Dread forms. Instinctively, I clamber to my feet, wrapping my arms around Jasper’s waist.

He stiffens. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a hug.”

“Why?”

“Because we both need it.”

My brother lets out a breath. His long arms snake around my shoulders while his cheek rests on the top of my head. “We have to win this contract, sis.”

“I know.”

“We’ll have to work twice as hard to make up for—”

“I know.”

Strands of hair tickle my nose when he exhales. “I’ll get the riffs tight, you focus on the lyrics, and when he sobers up, Tobias can hammer out the drum beats. We’ll be on a tighter schedule than usual, but it’s manageable. Provided he stays away from alcohol and your lyrics are the best yet, we’ll be okay. We’ll still have a shot.”

A golf ball lodges at the back of my throat.

“Sis?”

But I ignore it. Pulling back, I stare into his troubled eyes. He’s so desperately trying to keep his shit together; I can’t fall apart now.

Thankfully when I speak, it’s with more conviction than I feel. “We’ve got this, Jasper.”

Chapter Sixty-Two

My trusty soccer ball connects with the wire fence and rolls back. A melody swirls in my head, growing stronger with each passing second.

But no words come.

“Damn it.” My bare foot connects with the ball with more force than necessary. It shoots forward, then flies back and smacks into my shin.

Bending over, I clutch my leg. “Fuck, that hurt.”

After I rub it, the pain fades and I can stand again. Hobbling to where my ball is wedged in the chain link, I wrestle it free and straighten. Only to be hit with the realization I’ve got writer’s block a day before the finals.

God-fucking-dammit.

Straightening my shoulders, I reach for my shoes, notebook, and bag. “Don’t panic, Shiloh. A change of scenery is all you need.”

Crossing the coastal promenade, I step onto the sand. The grains shift beneath my feet, grounding me from the chaos.

To my right, I spy a quiet spot away from other people. “Perfect.” Getting there only takes a few strides. I drop onto the sand, my gear beside me. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

I close my eyes. Blocking out the high-pitched laughter, the gulls squawking overhead, and the breeze whistling past my ears takes every bit of my concentration. Finally, I manage it.

A small smile plays on my lips. “There it is.”

The waves crash, wash onto shore, and retreat.

Gradually, the rhythm builds. That familiar melody teases the edge of my subconscious, growing louder, more demanding as it pushes to the forefront of my mind. I will the words to come, demand they make an appearance. Hell, I’m not above begging.

“Fuck.” Groaning, I lie back.

Pressing my palms into my eye sockets, I try to keep the hysteria at bay.

It wants to crawl up my throat and choke me.

My stomach churns. I want to run, hide, have the name Rising Star banished from my memory.

But I can’t. “What am I going to do?”

“Sis!” Jasper is standing beside Tobias’s car, waving me over.

Cursing under my breath, I collect my belongings and make my way to him.

When I’m close enough, he asks, “You ready?”

I nod.

“Good, let’s go.”

“Hang on, who’s driving?” Peering through the car window, I discover Tobias sprawled facedown on the rear seat. “Still?” Anger curls through my body until I’m seething with it. My fist connects with the glass. “Fucking hell, Tobias.”

He doesn’t move.

Jasper’s voice is tight. “He found the whiskey when I was in the shower. By the time I got out, most of the bottle was gone.”

“Shit. We have our last production meeting with Vivienne today, and our drummer is rolling drunk.” It’s no use praying for a miracle. The realist in me knows we’re well and truly fucked.

As though sensing the direction of my thoughts, Jasper indicates the notebook I’m clutching against my chest. “You get the lyrics done?”

“Yep.” I’m going to hell.

His face lights up. “Really?” Relief turns his features lax. “Thank fuck. I was worried you had writer’s block or something.”

I try to laugh.

“Are the lyrics good? They need to be the best you’ve ever written.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“Well?”

I shuffle from one foot to the other, conflicted. I’m going to write the lyrics, I’m just not sure when. And I hate lying to my brother, but I don’t want to stress him out more than he already is.

I paste on a smile. “They’re good. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Chapter Sixty-Three

Jasper’s grin lights up his whole face while something inside me dies. “That’s awesome, sis. After the meeting, we’ll have a jam session to see how your lyrics fit with the rest of the song.”

“What about the drums? Tobias hasn’t got them down yet.”

“He’ll be able to play. As long as we keep him away from alcohol between now and tomorrow night, we’ll be fine. Who am I kidding? We’ll be better than fine. We’ll kill it out there.”

My eyes shift from my comatose friend to the blank pages hidden in the notebook. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” He opens the driver door. “Come on, Vivienne will have our asses if we’re late.”

It doesn’t take long to drive to Rising Star. It does, however, take an eternity to wrangle Tobias out of the vehicle. His balance is off, he smells like a distillery, and I have no idea how we’re going to make it through this production meeting without Vivienne realizing. With his arms draped over Jasper’s and my shoulders, we half drag, half lead him through the parking lot and inside the building.

Only to stop short.

“You’re late.” Vivienne’s stiletto heels tap on the polished tile. She snaps her fingers in front of her PA’s harried face. “Make a note of it.”

The young woman’s fingers fly across the screen of her smart phone.

Our director’s eagle eyes pierce each of us before coming to rest on Tobias. “What’s wrong with you?”

Not wanting to give him a chance to reply, I blurt, “He’s got vertigo.”

Jasper raises a questioning eyebrow, but I shake my head.

“Vertigo?” Vivienne sniffs, not at all convinced.

“Yeah.” I nod. “But he’ll be fine by tomorrow. You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t.”

Christ, she’s a witch.

“The rules clearly stipulate you can only perform with all of your original band members. If he isn’t recovered in time, regardless of whether you find another musician to fill his role, any and all votes you receive will be void.” The woman’s stare could drill holes through concrete. “Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes,” I murmur.

“Perfectly,” Jasper replies.

Tobias hiccups.

She narrows her gaze. “Follow me.”

I share a look with my brother, and we maneuver Tobias between us and trail after her down the hallway. Numerous twists and turns later, we emerge on stage.

Vivienne’s bejeweled hands gesture to the performance space. “You’ll notice the stage is a different shape. The production team and I decided to use a thrust stage for the finals.” She indicates to where it juts into the audience. “You will be surrounded by the crowd on three sides. At the front, on the left, and on the right.” She attempts a smile, but her Botox is determined. “We want to ensure maximum enjoyment for the audience.”

Jasper shifts under Tobias’s weight. “How many people are you expecting?”

“Two and a half thousand. We’ll be at maximum capacity.”

My knees almost buckle. “Two and a half thousand?”

“And of course, it will be televised live.” She sniffs. “We’re expecting our highest ratings yet.”

“Yeah?” Jasper asks.

“Eighteen million.”

“Eighteen million people?” My brother is beyond excited.

I need to leave. Now.

But Tobias’s weight on my shoulders reminds me of what we have to lose if I do.

“Now, listen carefully,” Vivienne barks, before diving into a lengthy narrative about the logistics of tomorrow night.

I don’t hear a word.

My anxiety is fixated on the full house rather than the number of people watching the televised show. People tucked safely away in their living rooms don’t need my fear projected onto them. It’s the live audience I’m worried about.

Only, when the words pyrotechnic display are spoken, I snap out of my stupor. “Hang on, you’ve organized a pyrotechnic display?”

“Sis,” my brother warns, knowing what’s coming.

Vivienne’s collagen-filled lips compress into a tight line. “That is what I said, yes. There will also be smoke machines and choreographed dancers in cages suspended from the ceiling.”

“Fuck no.”

Vivienne draws up to her full height. “I beg your pardon?”

Beside me, Jasper hisses, “Shut. Up.”

There’s no way I’m letting this go.

Shifting Tobias’s weight onto my brother, I step forward. “Look, I don’t mean to be a bitch or anything, but you’re losing sight of what’s important here. Fans aren’t voting for fireworks, they’re not moshing because of smoke machines, and they sure as fuck won’t be cheering for choreographed dancers. They want music. Honest to God music.”

Licking my lips, I think over my next words. “Audiences want dirty guitar riffs, thundering drum beats, and vocals that blow their minds. They want to drown in our sound until everything fades into oblivion and there’s nothing left in their complex, convoluted lives except happiness.” I take another step forward. “That’s what this is all about. Fuck, it’s why we’re here, because of the music.”

Meeting her gaze head-on, I continue. “Sharing what we love with people who feel the same way is magic in its rarest form. In one moment, people from all over come together to celebrate common humanity.” I gesture around me. “And you’re losing sight of that by focusing on dancers and fucking light displays.” Taking a deep breath, I shove my hands in my pockets. “End rant.”

Even though he wanted me to remain quiet, I can sense Jasper smiling behind me. And I hope, despite his whiskey-induced fog, Tobias is equally pleased. Vivienne’s PA is slack-jawed, and the woman who bore the brunt of my tirade is deathly still.

Eventually, Vivienne clears her throat. Pointing at her PA, she barks, “Make a note of it.”

Dazed, I return to my bandmates.

Chapter Sixty-Four

For the next hour, Vivienne talks to us about tomorrow night.

It’s going to be the most surreal experience of my life. I want to rock the shit out of this performance, desperate to experience the adrenaline only singing live can bring. But my subconscious reminds me of the lyrics I haven’t written. My stomach plummets and fear paralyzes me. Breathe, the words will come when they’re ready.

I hope.

When our director and her PA finally leave, Jasper turns to me. “Let’s head to the studio. We need to practice.”

Between us, Tobias groans.

Grimacing, I consider my best friend. His skin is blotchy, and beads of sweat trickle down his cheek. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jasper.”

But my brother is determined. “We have to get this song down. You heard what Vivienne said, we’re going to have a packed house. Millions of people will be watching us. We can’t fuck up.”

Tobias sways.

My hand goes out to steady him. “Look, I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t think it’s possible right now.”

“But the finals—”

“Idontfeeltoogood.” As though in slow motion, Tobias pitches forward and throws up.

Jasper jumps back, swearing.

I rub Tobias’s heaving back in slow circles, murmuring softly in his ear. When I find myself making false promises like, “You’re okay. It’s all going to be fine,” I stop. This isn’t the time for platitudes.

Leading him to an empty chair in the wings, I help him sit. “Won’t be long.”

Scurrying backstage, I manage to locate a mop and bucket. After that, I raid the janitor’s closet for hospital-strength cleaning agents before filling the bucket with water from the sink. On my way back, I pass a vending machine, so I grab a sports drink. Tobias is in desperate need of electrolytes.

Once I return to where my friend is slumped in his seat, I pass him the open bottle. “Here.”

“Thanks.” With trembling fingers, he takes it.

I indicate the mop and bucket. “I’m going to clean up.”

With a groan, he holds his head with one hand.

Jasper is pacing when I return to the stage. “Thank fuck the production team isn’t here. This is a disaster. A complete fucking disaster.” He rounds on me. “What are we going to do?”

Holding my breath, I begin tidying the mess.

“Well?” he barks.

Since I don’t have an answer, I don’t respond.

After removing the evidence of Tobias’s bad decisions, I wash out the bucket and return the equipment to where I found it.

Jasper and I then help Tobias to the car. We have to pull over three times on the way home, but once we make it inside the house, I set him up on the couch.

“Don’t forget the spew bucket.”

“Jesus Christ.” I tuck the blanket around my friend and put a fresh bottle of water nearby. He’s shaking. With hands on hips, I face my brother. “Pretty sure he’s got nothing left in his stomach except lining. I think we’re good.”

“But what about—”

“We’re good, Jasper.”

“Nothing about this situation is good.”

Staring pointedly at the kitchen, I move to the other room with Jasper close behind.

Once out of earshot, he rounds on me. “We’re so fucking screwed.” He ticks off each point on his fingers. “We haven’t got the drums sorted, Tobias is comatose, and we don’t know if your lyrics fit.” He grips the back of his neck, spinning in a small circle. “We haven’t even played the song through once, and we’re performing it in front of millions tomorrow night! Millions!”

I hate seeing him like this. Clasping his shoulders, I give him a gentle shake. “Dude, relax. We’ll get up early, sort out the rest of the song, and have it ready to go by sound check.” Fingers crossed I have the lyrics sorted by then.

“We can’t let Tobias out of our sight.”

“Agreed.”

“And we have to make sure nothing triggers his drinking.”

Removing my hands, I cross them in front of my chest. “Meaning?”

It’s Jasper’s turn to glare. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not going to stop seeing Reid. I’ve already explained it to Tobias, and now I’m telling you.”

“It’s only for one day.”

“That’s beside the point. You’re trying to dictate who I hang out with.”

“But you’re not ‘hanging out’ with Reid, you’re fucking him. Huge difference. You’re rubbing Tobias’s face in it every time he sees the two of you together.”

My phone rings. I know exactly who it is. Pulling the device from my pocket only confirms it.

Jasper notices the name on screen. “You never deleted his number, did you?”

“No.”

“Don’t answer it.” His voice is a warning.

My finger hovers over the accept call button.

“I’m serious. Don’t you dare.”

“I love you, brother, I do. But I care about Reid too.” Swiping the screen, I raise the phone to my ear. “Hey.”

A fist slams through the kitchen wall. Clouds of dust and fragmented plasterboard spill into the room.

“The fuck?” Reid’s low voice is urgent. “Are you okay?”

Jasper kicks a chair, sending it flying. After throwing empty glasses, bowls, and plates against the wall, he upends the kitchen table and storms out.

“I need words, darlin’.”

It’s then I realize I’m shaking. Blinking back the tears blurring my vision, I whisper, “No, not really.”

Chapter Sixty-Five

“I’m coming over.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Reid.”

“Don’t care. If you’re upset, I don’t want you on your own.”

“But—”

“Be there in ten.” The line goes dead.

I’ve barely straightened what’s left of the kitchen furniture when there’s a knock at the front door. Figuring Jasper can clean the rest of his damn mess, I move past Tobias’s sleeping form and answer it. “Hey.”

Reid steps inside. His hair is disheveled, as though he’s thrust his fingers through it countless times. Intently, he searches my face, and within seconds, has me pressed against the wall. His large hands skim my body. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? If you have so much as a paper cut, I’m gonna kill the motherfucker who gave it to you.”

Calloused thumbs wipe stray tears while his hips press against my stomach. My heart stills, then hammers against my chest. “I’m okay.” I’m not sure who I say it for, him or me.

“No, you’re not.” He glances at the kitchen, his eyes narrowing. “Who was tearing up the place?”

“Jasper.”

He tenses.

Putting a placating hand on his heaving torso, I murmur, “He’d never hurt me. He lost his cool, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” He expression is incredulous. “You’re protecting him?”

Even though I take my hands away, Reid refuses to let me go. “No, of course not. He’s a hothead. We both are. It’s how we deal.”

“He needs to find a different way to fucking deal.”

My smile is weak. “The kitchen felt the brunt of his anger, not me.”

He presses his forehead against mine, nostrils flaring. “Scared the shit out of me, not knowing if you were safe.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I breathe him in. “I’m glad you’re here.”

In a fluid motion, he locks the front door, swoops me into his arms, and walks upstairs. There, he closes and locks my bedroom door and lays me on the bed.

I’ve never felt safer.

He settles us so we’re facing each other. Even though our legs entwine and there’s no space between us, I wriggle closer.

“What happened with Jasper?”

With fingers tracing the combed cotton of his shirt, I tell him about my lackluster writing session at the beach, Tobias finding the liquor, our shitty production meeting, Jasper freaking out, Reid’s phone call, being warned against answering it, and doing it anyway.

When silence settles, Reid presses his mouth to mine.

His mouth is so damn tender, my eyes threaten to well again. He kisses first my top lip, then my bottom, sucking them one at a time.

I open for him, wanting more, needing him to lose control and take me completely. But he holds back, refusing to be hurried.

His hands graze my neck, collarbone, and skim the length of my arms. They slide under my shirt, caressing my stomach before teasing the underside of my breast.

I moan.

Reid pushes me onto my back, his knee pressing between my thighs. He’s hard.

“Reid.” My voice is desperate.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Make love to me.”

He stills, then pulls back.

Tentatively, I tuck some hair behind his ear. “I don’t want roses, champagne, or cheesy one-liners. That shit means nothing to me.” My hand traces his jawline. “But I want to mean more than a fuck to you.”

He stares for the longest time. “You’ve always been more than a fuck to me.”

“Even when you hated me?”

“Especially when I hated you. Thought I made it pretty fucking clear.”

Pressing my fingers against his lips, I murmur, “What about when the competition is over? What happens then?”

“We keep doing what we’re doing.”

My heart gradually sews itself back together. The stitches are loose, and the cotton is frayed, but the pattern that forms is beautiful. “Why me? After everything I’ve done, why are you still here?”

Gray eyes sear my soul. “It’s always been you. Ever since we were kids. Was written in the stars or some shit.”

There’s no stopping my grin. “You’re a closet romantic.”

With a low growl, Reid rolls me onto my back. “Darlin’, there’s nothing romantic about me. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

Chapter Sixty-Six

The kiss is purposeful. His tongue teases and twirls with my own. It’s the perfect combination of deliberate tenderness.

Without a word, he strips me from my clothes. His gaze blazes across my naked body writhing on the coverlet. “I’m going to own you.”

Shockwaves ripple through me. “You already do.”

He nips my earlobe. “Every gasp, every sigh, every motherfucking moan will be mine.”

“They already are.”

Reid pushes to his knees, reaches behind him, and pulls his T-shirt over his head.

His shoulders and pecs ripple, his abs expand and contract. Every inch that’s revealed is more perfect than the last.

My tongue traces the length of my top lip.

He growls.

Clothes are shed, sighs are drawn, and soon, his hard body is pressed against the soft contours of mine.

“Fuck, you feel good.”

“I need you inside me,” I whimper.

His touch trails across my skin, teasing, tempting, sending endless shivers cascading across my body. Ducking his head, Reid captures one of my nipples in his mouth. His tongue laps and circles the pebbled peak while he palms the swollen flesh of the other. His teeth clamp down.

My back arches off the bed as my fingers delve into his tousled hair. “Reid.”

“I’m here, darlin’.”

His voice is a tonic, so I relax against the mattress. Reid swaps his attention to my other breast, and tremors run rampant across my flesh.

As though sensing how close I am, he slowly moves down my body, his lips venerating every contour on the way. When he settles between my parted legs, he shakes his head. “A man would kill for a taste of this pussy.” The tip of his tongue darts out, savoring me. He groans. “Jesus fuck.” His teeth nip the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

I tip my head back, calling his name, willfully drowning in the bliss he crafts. “Yes. God, yes.”

After spreading my lips wide, Reid flattens his tongue and licks the length of them. “You’re so wet.” A finger teases my entrance.

“For you. Only you.”

“Damn right.” Another finger joins the first. Then another. They thrust inside.

“Reid, please. I—” His tongue teases my clit while his fingers curl, massaging my G-spot. When another finger slips down to my ass, I gasp.

On a low hum, his finger circles the puckered bud. “I’m going to own all of you.”

His touch has me seeing stars. I push into him, craving more.

“So tight. I’m going to love claiming this ass.”

The vibration of his voice against my clit, the way he owns my inner walls, the fact his finger breaches my ass—

Detonation.

White noise fills my ears, my vision darkens, and a wave of sensation peaks.

“Fucking beautiful.”

My body clenches around him as a powerful orgasm rips through me. Throughout it all, Reid murmurs against my skin, his sweet words juxtaposing his dirty actions.

Once I come down, I roll on top of his muscular form. With my hands cupping his face, a love so acute I’m momentarily winded takes hold. Dipping my head, I claim my man like he claimed me.

He tastes of me, his tongue, lips, chin. Sitting upright, I straddle his hips and grasp his cock. It’s long, thick, and pulses against my palm. I pump the hard length once, twice, until drops of precum bead on the crown. Keeping my gaze fixed on Reid, I draw wet fingers to my mouth, sucking them dry.

His cock jumps.

Flavor bursts on my tongue, and I moan, my eyes rolling back in my head.

“Put my cock inside you.”

Dazed, I stare at him.

His expression is fierce. “I want your pussy to milk every last drop of my cum. Now.”

With a small smile, I place him at my entrance, and slowly, I sink onto his shaft. Christ, he’s big. He fills every space inside me.

When I bottom out, we groan.

My hands instinctively clutch his shoulders, my virgin skin stark against his colorful tattoos.

Reid grips my hips, his fingers almost bruising. “Fuck, darlin’.”

Leaning forward, I brush my lips against his. “I know. God, I know.”

His gaze searches mine. “What are you doing to me?”

Tracing his jawline with my lips, I whisper, “You’re mine, Reid Tate. Never forget it.”

A deep rumble echoes within his chest.

After sucking his lower lip, I murmur, “I need to move. Hold on.”

“I’m never letting go.”

This man.

Rocking my hips, I set a slow pace. My hair drapes around us, blocking out the rest of the world. I want to stay in this bubble forever.

Time passes, only we’re oblivious. Lips touch, hands caress, and ragged breaths combine. When our skin is coated in a sheen of perspiration and my body is desperate for release, Reid growls, “Come for me.”

“No, not without you. I don’t want to fall alone.”

“Come with me then.” He fuses his mouth with mine.

His demand sends me crashing over the edge. A powerful orgasm rips through me, and seconds later, Reid follows suit. His cock pulses, throbs, shoots seed deep inside.

Exhausted, we lie in each other’s arms, shocked and silent. And hours after Reid’s fallen asleep, I stare out the window, deep into the night.

As perfect as it is to experience his resting form lying next to mine, the dreamworld we’ve created can’t fend off tomorrow.

It’s coming whether I’m ready or not.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

I wake with a start. “Shit.” Sitting bolt upright, the blanket pools to my waist.

A low, gravelly voice rumbles behind me. “What is it?”

Frantically, I glance about the room, desperate to find the answer to my problem hidden beneath discarded clothes.

“Darlin’?” Reid hand clasps my hip.

I shiver from the contact. His warm fingers confuse the goose bumps tickling my flesh.

“What’s going on?”

When I turn, his sleepy expression is concerned. I want to nestle in his arms, letting his strong embrace to protect me from the world.

But it can’t.

I’m on my own.

“Finals,” I choke out.

Reid shrugs. “It’ll come together.”

Pointedly, I stare. “That’s it? That’s your inspirational pep talk?”

His lips quirk into a half smile.

“What if it doesn’t come together? What if my band doesn’t get the song finished in time? What if we’re forced to go on stage with nothing but a half-formed riff?”

He pulls me to his chest.

With fingernails digging into his muscles, I force myself to count the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat until my body stops shaking.

He kisses my head. “If the song doesn’t come together in time, improvise.”

Propping my chin on his pec, I raise my eyebrows. “Improvise?”

“Yeah.”

“In front of two and a half thousand people? Not to mention the millions of viewers watching on TV?”

Talented fingers tease the anxiety from my shoulders and back.

Without meaning to, I sink into his touch.

“No one knows the song you’re going to play but you guys. The audience won’t have a clue if it’s improvised or not. Just own it.” His hand skims the length of my spine, coming to rest on the curve of my ass. He squeezes. “You sing best when you don’t overthink shit. When your mind is clear, the words will come.”

I wish his confidence were tangible so I could rub it into my skin like a balm.

We’re quiet for a moment. I check my phone, figuring we’ve got some time before I have to get up.

“Remember when we were at the beach?” Reid asks. “I played our song on the djembe and you sang?”

I nod.

“We’d never put words to the beat before. You made it up on the spot, and it was fucking sensational. You blew everyone away because you gave us a piece of yourself, your real self. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen.”

He cups my cheek. “I’m not going to lie to you and say everything’s going to be fine. I’m not going to give you empty words that don’t mean shit. I’m going to give it to you straight.” His soul touches mine. “You can win Rising Star on raw talent alone. Your voice….” Wonderment fills his gaze. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before, like no one’s heard before. But it’ll only resonate with the audience if you’re in the right headspace.” An index finger taps my temple. “Don’t let the voices in your head get the better of you.”

Slowly, I nod.

Reid plays with the ends of my hair. “Why did you enter Rising Star?”

His question takes me by surprise. I furrow my brow and bite my bottom lip, thinking.

A thumb smooths the worried skin. “Well?”

“Because I had to.”

He gives me a flat look.

“I don’t mean out of a sense of obligation or anything. I literally have to sing.”

His eyes soften.

“Ever since I was a kid, I heard the world in melody. There was music in everything, you know?”

Silent, he lets me speak.

“And the only way I could make sense of it was to put lyrics to the sound. Words would swirl in my head to the point where it became so full, I felt like I’d go crazy if I didn’t turn them into a song. Only then could I understand my thoughts and what was happening in my life.” I shrug. “It’s not about the fame or the potential fortune, that’s Jasper’s thing. Between you and me, it’s not even about winning the contract. It’s about having to sing.”

Reid nods pensively. “I get it.”

“What about you? Why did you enter the competition?”

Head back, he stares at the ceiling. The long line of his neck stretches taut, outlining his Adam’s apple. “I thought I had my whole life figured out. I’d skate, get selected for the extreme circuit, and travel the world with my woman by my side. But it fell apart. I tore my ACL, then tore it again. Was dumped from the national squad.” His voice goes quiet. “Lost my girl.”

I wrap my arms around him, refusing to let go.

He clears his throat. “I was so fucking angry. It didn’t matter how much rehab I did on my knee, it was never the same. And no matter how many times I tried to contact you, you never answered.”

I bury my head against his chest, but Reid doesn’t comfort me, he lets me sit with the memory.

“So when I started drumming, I realized it was one part of my life I could control. I’d spend hours watching online tutorials. I’d experiment with new fills. I’d drum until the blisters on my hands bled and I couldn’t pick up my sticks. It didn’t replace what I lost, but when I played, the beat, the intensity, the rhythm….” He shrugs. “I owned them.”

“I hope your band wins.”

His gaze darts to mine at the strange proclamation.

“Don’t get me wrong, I hope my band wins too. But you deserve this.”

“So do you.”

I don’t reply.

Reid gathers my hair into a clenched fist, forcing my eyes to him. “I’m serious, darlin’. You deserve this. Every time you step foot on stage, you face your fear. Whenever you look at the crowd, you stare terror in the eyes. Not many people can do that.”

Since he owns every part of me, I voice my darkest fear. “What if I can’t do it?”

“What if you can?”

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Deciding we need to eat, Reid and I dress before treading past Jasper’s room.

His door is closed, and no noise comes from inside. Either, he’s still asleep or he didn’t come home last night.

A pang of guilt twists my stomach. Not for answering Reid’s phone call and triggering the chain of events leading to Jasper storming out of the house, but because I haven’t checked with him to see if he’s okay. He may be an ass, but he’s my brother. I make a mental note to track him down.

Tobias is where I left him on the couch. Only now he’s pale, doubled over, and cradling his head in his hands.

“Hey,” I murmur.

He groans, not looking up.

“Want me to fix you something to eat?”

He does a pitiful shooing motion, wanting me gone.

I glance at Reid. His body is tense.

Giving him a rueful smile, I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen. Then stop.

Glass still covers most of the floor, one of the chairs is in pieces, the back door is open, and leaves from outside are everywhere.

I rub my face with my hands as a broad chest presses against my back. The strength from Reid’s body seeps into my tired bones.

“You clean up. I’ll make breakfast.”

Nodding, I retrieve the dustpan and broom and get to work. By the time I’m done, a salty-sweet scent fills the room.

Reid puts my plate on the table. “Here.”

I sit on one of the few remaining pieces of furniture, my eyes glued to the plate. “We had bacon?”

“Yep.” He sits next to me.

“Is that French toast? With maple syrup?”

“Sure is.”

“Holy shit.” I gaze at him in wonder. “Who are you?”

He smirks, biting off a piece of bacon.

Just as I’m about to take a mouthful, Tobias stumbles into the kitchen.

His clothes are crinkled, his hair sticks every which way, and there are bags under his bloodshot eyes. “Shiloh.” His voice is rough. “I’m sorry about….” His gaze fixes on the chair remains in the corner. “What happened?” Groggily, he searches the room. His expression hardens when he sees Reid. “What are you doing here?”

The legs of Reid’s chair scrape against the linoleum. He stands. “Have we got a problem?”

Moving next to him, I place a soothing hand on Reid’s bicep.

Tobias stares first at my fingers, then at Reid’s stoic expression. “Why are you here?”

Reid crosses his arms.

My friend turns to me, confused. “Shiloh?”

Reid pulls me against his strong torso, his strong arms wrapping around my middle. “Jasper lost his shit last night. You know how he gets.”

“Yeah, you do,” Reid grits out. “But you were too busy searching for the bottom of a bottle to protect Shiloh.”

“Protect?” Tobias blinks. “What are you talking about? Jasper would never hurt her.”

Anger radiates from every pore of Reid’s body.

My fingers trace his taut skin in slow circles, hoping it calms him down.

“He smashed the place up while his sister was in the room. Asshole’s lucky he left before I got here. No one’s putting my woman in a situation like that ever again. You hear me?”

“Your woman?”

Reid is silent, the telltale tick in his jaw evidence he’s seriously pissed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tobias’s eyes flick between Reid and me, anger and hurt flooding jade irises.

“I’m so sorry, Tobias.” I’d reach for him if I could. “You know I care about you, you’re my closest friend. But…” I steel myself. “I love Reid.”

Finally.

It’s out in the open.

I could have picked a better moment. One that isn’t shrouded in my brother’s anger or Tobias’s downward spiral. But if I’ve learned anything these past weeks, it’s that time doesn’t discriminate.

If I’m lucky enough to have a man like Reid, then I need to tell him so. Fuck, I need to do everything I can to deserve him. Admitting my feelings is the first step in proving I won’t hurt him again.

Tobias stumbles back as though struck. His shoulder bumps into the plasterboard. “You love him?”

Turning to Reid, I smile. “Yeah, I do.” When it comes to this man, I’m lost, found, and everything in between.

Reid’s hands are in my hair and his tongue is in my mouth before I can say anything further. A deep rumble echoes through his chest as he shifts his frame until it’s flush with mine.

Pulling away, I gasp, “Reid, no. Tobias—”

“You love me?”

There’s an unexpected vulnerability in his gaze. It has me cradling his face in my palms so I can ease every doubt. “Yes, I do.”

He clamps his eyes shut, breathing hard. Opening them again, he kisses me.

I melt, swoon, dig my nails into his skin.

He teases, takes, tugs on my hair.

The slam of a nearby door startles me, making me jump. Pulling back, I scan the room. “Where’s Tobias?”

“Gone.” As gorgeous as he looks with wet, swollen lips, I can’t ignore what I did in front of my best friend. Irritated at my selfishness, I disentangle myself from Reid’s arms.

“What the fuck was I thinking? Tobias must be hurting so bad right now.” Assuming it was the back door he left through, I stalk toward it. “I’ve got to go after him.”

Reid’s strong hands force me to face him. “You need to eat.”

“I just tore my best friend’s heart out. I need to find him and apologize, not sit and eat.”

“Darlin’, you won’t be any good to anyone if you pass out from hunger. And I hate to say it, but you’re the last person he’ll want to see right now.”

I flinch.

“I’ll call Jasper.” Reid pulls me to him, slipping his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Tobias will figure out that this is the way it’s meant to be.”

Uncertain, I glance away.

Removing them, he threads his fingers through mine, and leads me to the table. “Sit your sweet ass down, eat your food, then go find him.”

As much as I want to find Tobias, I listen to what Reid says. A voice in the back of my mind warns that I need to reach him before he does anything stupid.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

I can’t find Tobias.

He’s not at the beach, his house, or Rising Star.

“Fuck.” Pacing our tiny rehearsal studio, my eyes flit to his drum kit. The drum kit he isn’t sitting behind with four hours to go until we’re live.

I’m going to be sick.

Jasper stalks into the room smelling like cheap perfume and sex. He levels me with a glare. “I thought you’d be here. Now, I don’t agree with what you did last night, and when all this shit is over, we’re going to have a long fucking talk about family loyalty, but for the sake of the competition, I’m going to let it slide—” He notices my stricken expression. “What is it?”

“I’ve lost Tobias.”

“What are you talking about? How can you lose Tobias? He’s a grown-ass man.”

Wringing my hands, I glance away. “I, ah, said something hurtful. He didn’t take it well.” With trembling fingers, I tuck some hair behind my ears. “He stormed out of the house, and now he won’t answer my calls or texts. I’ve searched all morning and have no idea where he is. Didn’t Reid call you?”

“He did but I didn’t answer.”

My eyes flit to my brother. “I’m really starting to worry.”

He swears under his breath. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he dials Tobias. When Tobias doesn’t reply, he hangs up. His knuckles are white when he points the cell in my direction. “What the hell did you do?”

Squaring my shoulders, I prepare for the onslaught. “I told him I’m in love with Reid.”

“You what? Are you crazy? The guy’s dealing with enough shit already. He doesn’t need you dropping the mother of all fucking bombshells on the day of the finals.” Turning, he kicks the mic stand, sending it crashing to the floor. “Fuck!”

There’s a timid knock at the door.

“Go away!” Jasper yells.

It opens regardless, and Vivienne’s PA creeps inside.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Jasper,” I warn.

He glowers. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”

Ignoring my brother, I force a smile at the PA. “What’s up?”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re, um, late for your interviews.”

“Interviews? What interviews?”

“The interviews Vivienne set up with Rock Magazine, Rolling Stone, and Vibe.” Her gaze darts between Jasper, me, and the door. “I sent you an email with an updated schedule for today. Didn’t you get it?”

Pulling out my phone, I search through my inbox. “Shit. I didn’t even think to check this.” I scan the message as a knot lodges in the back of my throat. “Do we have to go to all three interviews?”

“Y-yes, it’s in your contractual agreement.” Her voice wobbles as she recounts, “Article twenty-five, paragraph seventeen.”

“Is there any chance we can reschedule until after the show?”

She shakes her head, her tortoiseshell glasses slipping down her nose. “No, sorry. They have rights to the pre-performance exclusive that will go live online before your song.” Staring at the floor, she murmurs, “Article thirty-one, paragraph five.”

I take in the illuminated screen as panic builds.

We’re fucked.

Even if Jasper and I find Tobias, we’ll be lucky to get twenty minutes to rehearse before Stephanie attacks me with primer and a curling iron. There’s no way we’ll have enough time to get this song ready.

Jasper must come to the same realization, because all the blood drains from his face.

“What are we gonna do?” I mouth.

He doesn’t respond. He just stands there, shell-shocked.

“Shall I tell Vivienne you’re ready?” The PA clutches her iPad close to her chest.

Jasper blinks, clears his throat, and nods. “We’re ready.”

A heavy weight drops to the pit of my stomach. “Jasper.”

But he turns his back, waving me away.

It’s going to take a miracle to get us out of this mess.

Chapter Seventy

Jasper and I follow Vivienne’s PA through the myriad of hallways until we arrive at the conference room.

The interviews take forever.

In another lifetime, we would’ve had smiles a mile wide from chatting with journalists from our favorite music magazines. Finally getting recognized by the best in the business is a dream opportunity. But we’re too distracted, and I barely utter monosyllabic responses.

By the time the last interview winds down, Tobias still hasn’t returned any of my fifty-six missed calls. He’s ignoring Jasper too. We don’t have a clue where he is, and if one of us can’t get away to find him soon, we’re going to be in serious trouble.

We traipse back to the rehearsal room.

As we round yet another nondescript corner, my brother breaks the loaded silence. “You remember the riff for the new song, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s awesome.”

“Good.” He doesn’t say anything else.

His quietness doesn’t sit well with me. “Jasper?” Tugging the sleeve of his shirt, I force him to face me. “What is it?”

He opens his mouth.

Only, Stephanie chooses that exact moment to pop her head out from behind her door. “Shiloh, just the woman I wanted to see.” She gestures inside. “It’s your turn.” Pointing at Jasper, she warns, “And don’t go far, you’re next.” Her eyes skim his disheveled appearance. “By the looks of it, you’re going to need a while.”

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls me into a one-arm hug. “I’m going to find Willow, see if she knows anything.”

“Good idea.” Squeezing him, I murmur, “Let me know how it goes.”

He nods before striding away.

It takes over two hours to apply makeup, style hair, and put on my outfit. Ironically, I step out of wardrobe looking worse than when I walked in. With skyscraper heels, black leather pants, and a bustier corset that squeaks when I move, I look like a BDSM porn star.

I’m not in the mood to care.

Returning to the rehearsal studio, I slam the door open and rush inside. “Well?” My frantic voice echoes in the near-empty room.

“Wil hasn’t seen or heard from him, but she’s looking into it. Their band is on after us, so she has more time to dig around.”

I falter. “What are we going to do, Jasper? And where’s your performance outfit? I thought you were getting done after me.”

He ignores me, his expression determined. “No time.” Picking up my ancient Martin, he heads for the door. “Let’s go.”

“What are you doing with my acoustic guitar?”

Ignoring my bafflement, my brother takes my hand and leads me through the complex hallways to side of stage

The stage manager bounds up to us, his arm gestures erratic. “There you are. Your instruments are already set up, sound check is done, and I need you waiting in the wings for your cue.” He narrows his eyes. “You’re on in five.”

My knees start shaking.

After noticing what Jasper is holding, he cocks his head to one side. “What are you doing with that?”

Jasper whispers something in his ear.

The stage manager’s mouth drops open. “You sure?” He takes the guitar, refusing to break eye contact with my brother. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Jasper nods. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

With a shake of his head, the stage manager hurries away.

“What the hell—”

“Come on.” My brother leads me to the wings.

When we reach the darkened area, I’m about to lose my shit. Wrenching my hand from his, I block out the heavy tunes from the support band and whisper-shout, “Jasper Dean Stirling, what the fuck is going on?”

Once again, he opens his mouth to speak and is interrupted. This time by Willow. She rushes over to us, her gaze wild.

Drake and Reid are close behind.

She considers us for a moment. Then, making up her mind, shoves her phone in Jasper’s face.

Looking at the screen, he blanches.

Their hushed conversation is frenzied, made all the more frustrating because I can’t hear a damn word over the band.

Reid walks over to me, his face a mask.

“What is it? Where’s Tobias? Is he okay?” I grasp his T-shirt, my fingers gripping the material. “For fuck’s sake, tell me!”

With a final farewell, the support band walk off stage.

Rather than answer my questions, Reid pulls me to him, his chin resting on the top of my head.

I take a moment to draw strength from him. I breathe in his silence and exhale the pandemonium of the past twenty-four hours.

When I’m slightly calmer, I pull back. “What’s going on?”

But he’s not listening. Instead, he’s in the middle of a silent conversation with Jasper.

Jasper nods at the acoustic guitar already waiting center stage.

Reid tips his head in response.

A hush falls over the stadium as Vivienne steps up to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen….”

When Reid turns to me, everything fades. There is no sound, or confusion. His eyes meeting mine, his soul touching mine, our hearts beating in tandem are all I know.

Reid’s knuckles skim the side of my face. “You’re singing solo tonight.”

Chapter Seventy-One

It takes a moment to sink in. But when the declaration does, I jerk away from his touch. “The fuck?” I try to wriggle out of Reid’s embrace.

He won’t let go.

“You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going out there by myself.” Frantic, my gaze lands on my brother.

Dejected, he shrugs.

The abject defeat and sadness cause me to falter, and before long, I’m still. “This can’t be happening.”

My throat tightens to the point of pain.

Strong hands tip my head back. “Jasper’s not playing. Whatever you have planned will sound like shit with only two electric guitars and vocals. You know it will. The only way this is going to work is if you sing acoustic.”

My head spins. “Oh my God, you’re serious. But I don’t have any lyrics!”

I can’t breathe.

Vivienne leaves the stage. The stage manager clicks his fingers at me, gesturing for me to go on.

My knees quake.

The crowd grows restless. They chant my band’s name. The noise grows louder, more deafening each second I stay rooted on the spot.

“I can’t do this.” I scan for the nearest exit.

It’s blocked by Drake.

“Goddammit.”

“You can do this,” Reid counters.

“I can’t!” Pushing him away, the room spins as I struggle to inhale. “I fucking can’t!”

Reid forces my gaze back to him. “Darlin’, breathe. The words are inside you. They’ve always been there. It’s time to voice them.”

He’s so confident and trusting of my ability, I almost believe him.

Firm lips crush mine. “I love you.”

Time stops.

Clocks pause.

People halt midstep.

The world warps, shifts, then realigns.

Breaking away, I whisper, “You love me?”

He kisses me again, his lips lingering. “Yes.” Straightening, he turns me until I’m facing the stage. “Now, go. You’ve got this.”

With a gentle nudge, he pushes me forward. But rather than do as he says, I gesture to the stage manager until he looks my way. Holding up one finger, I give him the universal sign for wait a minute.

Frazzled, he throws up his hands.

It’s difficult to hear the audience on account of the blood rushing through my ears, but an impenetrable wall of white noise tells me they’re getting impatient.

Spinning on my heel, I stride in the opposite direction, toward Jasper. I throw up a quick prayer for strength and ignore the unspoken questions in his eyes. “Hey.”

He grips my shoulder, his hold bruising. “Sis, what the fuck are you doing? Get on stage already.”

My heart thumps, and my stomach wants to curl in on itself, but I push forward.

It’s time to tell him the truth.

“I’ve got a confession to make.” My voice is steadier than I expect. Taking comfort in this, I ignore his manic stare and continue. “I’ve kept a secret from you. More than one, if I’m being honest. And hiding the truth came back to bite me in a big way.”

“Sis, we’ll book in a time for me to lose my shit over whatever the hell you’ve done later. Right now, you’ve got to turn the fuck around and get your ass on stage.”

Willow places a placating hand on his arm. “Listen to what she has to say.”

I offer her a grateful smile.

Jasper links his hands behind his neck, exasperated.

It takes me a moment to collect my thoughts. “I’ll start with the first secret.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Have you heard of enochlophobia?”

He blinks.

“It’s a fear of crowds, usually because people fear someone will be crushed to death.” Bracing myself, I continue. “Because I’m the most proud, stubborn woman this side of the equator, I hid my fear from you and Tobias.”

He stills.

“And I’m sorry.” My voice breaks. “I’m sorry I wasn’t open with you about it. I didn’t want to show weakness or ruin this amazing opportunity by letting fear rule me, because it will if I let it.”

His skin turns pale.

“Which brings me to my second secret. Only two people know of my phobia. The first is Wil.”

She offers a soft smile.

“Who is the most compassionate person I know. She would rather die than betray my trust.” I swallow. “And the second is Reid.” My body warms at his name. “He’s always pushing me to be the better version of myself. He calls me out on the lies I tell myself, knows what I’m capable of, and it’s because of his belief in me, mixed with that stubbornness I was telling you about, that I’m here right now.” Bracing myself, I then blurt, “And I don’t have a song written.”

Jasper blanches.

“But I’ll get it sorted between now and—” I gulp. “Going on stage. So don’t stress.”

He sways.

“Wil?” I ask.

“Yeah?”

“Can you keep an eye on him for me? He doesn’t look too good.”

She chuckles. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

I thought telling Jasper would be this clarifying moment where my past was cleansed and my fear miraculously disappeared. It wasn’t.

Even though I’m glad I told him, as I step toward the mic, I’m as terrified as I was the last time I performed.

Chapter Seventy-Two

I glance over my shoulder, needing reassurance from my friends and family.

Jasper is paler than I’ve ever seen him. Reid tips his chin, his belief in me irrefutable. Willow gives me the thumbs-up, and Drake winks. Despite the chaos, drama, and misunderstandings, they all have my back.

It’s time I earn it.

A lull, followed by muffled murmurs, washes over the crowd.

When I reach the microphone, I pick up my guitar with unsteady hands and sling the strap over one shoulder. My fingers strum the nylon strings, and I shake my head in bemusement as lyrics form in my mind.

They’re honest.

Real.

Perfect.

My voice booms through the speakers. “I’d like to dedicate this song to the love of my life.”

Cheers erupt from the crowd as my hands work the instrument. My terror slowly eases as joy tingles beneath my skin. A haunting melody forms, and I sway, losing myself in the music. When the riff peaks, I take a deep breath, trust the words will come, and sing.

I burn your name on my soul,

Smile wide, have it all,

Feel too much, cave and crawl,

Away, love.

You bleed your hurt into hate,

Curse my name, tempting fate,

Force my hand, it’s too late,

Again, love.

I tear the truth from the lies,

Cut my heart open wide,

Face the fear, scream and cry,

Alone, love.

You breathe my name to the sky,

Bind the wounds, whisper sighs,

Bodies fuse, hearts align,

Again, love.

We take the match, light the flame,

Lyrics born from the pain,

Sing the words, still the same,

You’re mine, love.

When the final bars fade through the speakers, there is silence.

I murmur a quick thank-you, spin on my heel, and bolt for the wings.

Slowly, a ripple of applause begins. It spreads, growing louder, wilder, as the remainder of the crowd joins in. By the time I step off stage, the noise is deafening.

Reid is waiting for me.

My body is in turmoil. I’m conflicted between wanting to cry, shout, and laugh. But rather than do any of them, I whisper, “I did it.”

“You did it.” His eyes are bright, possessiveness mixed with pride. “Come here.”

At his words, euphoria bursts through me. With a squeal, I launch myself at the man whose heart mirrors mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, tangle my hands in his hair, and kiss him like the world is imploding. “I love you.”

His hold tightens. “I fucking love you.”

We kiss for the longest time, neither of us wanting to be the first to break away. A not-so-subtle cough sounds close by, forcing us to pull apart.

“We’ve got to go, sis.” Jasper stares pointedly at Reid. “And you’re meant to be on stage.”

The two men have a silent conversation, but I’m too high on adrenaline to care.

Nodding to my brother, Reid sets me on my feet. Though I hate not being wrapped in his embrace, I know I need to let go. It’s his turn to shine.

After pressing my fingers to my lips, I place them on his full mouth. “Good luck.”

He pulls me against him, his nose buried in my neck. With a nip, Reid releases me before striding to his waiting band.

Jasper tugs on my arm. “Let’s go.”

We move through the hallways to the rear entrance. Stepping past security and into the unseasonably cool air, I shiver. “Where are we going?”

“To see Tobias.”

“You know where he is?” I sag in relief. “Thank God.”

When Jasper doesn’t respond, my elation fades and an all-too-familiar sense of unease forms.

“Where is he?”

Averting his gaze, Jasper stays quiet.

“Jasper, where the fuck is Tobias?”

His features are pained. “Memorial Hospital.”

Chapter Seventy-Three

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I take a sip of tepid coffee and grimace at the Styrofoam cup. Ignoring Jasper, I dart my gaze up and down the hallway, searching for any sign of a doctor. “How much longer is Tobias going to be in surgery? He’s been in there for hours.” Sharp teeth worry my bottom lip.

“Sis?”

“What?” Distracted, I drink. And spit it out again. “Fuck. How do people drink this shit? Tastes like a frog drowned in there.” I dump the cup in the trash before returning to one of the many plastic chairs lining the busy corridor.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your phobia?”

I wave Jasper away when an orderly rushes past, paperwork spilling from his arms. I stare at the frazzled employee, willing him to give me the answers I crave, but he’s too intent on retrieving the dropped files to notice.

Leaning forward in my chair, I crane my neck toward the nurses’ station. “Might go and ask them again. It’s been ten minutes. Anything could have happened in that time.”

When I stand, Jasper grabs my wrist. “You’re avoiding my question.”

I jerk my arm away, my anger flaring. “No, you’re avoiding the real issue here. The one where my best friend wrapped his car around a tree, had to be cut from the wreckage, and is undergoing emergency surgery right the fuck now.” Tears blur my vision.

Jasper’s voice gentles. “Don’t cry, sis. You know I can’t handle that shit.” With a muttered curse, he pulls me in for a hug.

I sniff, wiping at my damp cheeks. “I’m not crying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

We sink back into the chairs, quiet.

The bustling noises of the hospital bleed into my convoluted thoughts until my head is so full, I can’t take any more. Breaking away, I rest my elbows on my knees and force my gaze to the floor.

What if Tobias doesn’t make it? What if I never get a chance to see him again? What if those jade eyes are gone forever?

Desperate to think of something else, I turn to my brother. “I didn’t want to let you down.”

“Huh?”

“I kept my phobia a secret because I didn’t want to let you down.”

“You lied to me.”

“I never lied outright. I just didn’t tell you everything.”

He rubs his hands along his thighs. “You could have said something. I feel like an asshole for forcing you to front all those performances.” His eyes are entreating. “Were you really terrified?”

Swallowing, I nod.

Jasper curses under his breath. “You should’ve told me.”

Standing, I pace, my movements irregular and awkward. “And say what exactly? ‘Sorry, brother, I can’t sing tonight, I’m too freaked out someone in the audience is going to be crushed to death’?” I scoff. “You would have had me committed.”

My phone rings. Taking it out of my back pocket, I blink at the unfamiliar number before canceling the call.

Instead of arguing with me, Jasper leans back in his chair. “Your heart was never in it.”

Spinning on my heel, I level him with a direct stare. “That’s where you’re wrong. My heart was always in it. My actions might not have said so, but I need music just as much as you do.” I gesture to the nurses’ station. “What’s keeping them so long?”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jasper’s eyes, though bloodshot, are full of remorse. His hair is a mess, his clothes are rumpled, and he looks like he needs a twelve-hour sleep.

Moving back to the chair, I attempt a smile. “Don’t be.” Tucking a limp barrel curl behind one ear, I shrug. “I needed the push. And I’m sorry we didn’t win. It’s all my fault.”

“Your fault? You saved our asses tonight.”

“But you heard what Vivienne said. We needed all of the original band members or else we’d be eliminated.” I expel a deep sigh. “We were disqualified the moment I stepped foot on stage.”

Jasper grimaces. All hope for an exciting future is now lost.

“Tobias wouldn’t have stormed off if it wasn’t for me. He wouldn’t have drunk so much or crashed his car.” My tone is soft. “If it wasn’t for me, we could have had a real shot at winning the contract.”

“Shiloh.” Jasper never calls me by my first name.

My eyes widen.

“I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen up.”

Warily, I nod.

“You didn’t tell Tobias to leave. You didn’t force the drinks down his throat or tell him to get behind the wheel drunk. I love the guy, I do. But those decisions are on him, no one else.”

My bottom lip trembles. “Why are they taking so long?”

He shakes his head, as lost as I am.

“What if—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Sis, stop it. He’s going to be okay.” He cradles me against his side. “He has to be.”

Chapter Seventy-Four

To keep the fear at bay, I dig my fingernails into my palm, relishing the sharp sting.

“Have you called Tobias’s parents?” Jasper asks.

My body seizes up at the thought of his asshole family. “Yeah, while you were getting coffee.”

“What did they say?”

“His mom’s cell went straight to voicemail, but his dad answered.” My air quotes are brilliant. “Gary’s ‘snowed under at work and will get here sometime in the next few days.’ Then he mentioned something about negotiating a private room for Tobias. You know, because he cares.”

“Motherfucker.”

I nod.

“Did you call Tiffany?”

The mention of her name has my nails breaking through skin. “I called, let it ring a few times, then hung up.”

“Don’t you think she has a right to know?”

I scowl. “I think she has the right to be a decent human being, but the bitch hasn’t managed it yet.”

“Sis—”

Holding up one hand, I stop him. “No. The entire time they were together, she was a goddamn catastrophe. The woman lied, was manipulative and possessive. Oh, and don’t forget she fucking cheated on him.” Flicking my hair over one shoulder, I glare. “If Tiffany wants to know what’s going on with Tobias, she can pull her head out of her own bleached asshole and return my call.”

Before Jasper has a chance to reply, an impossibly tall, tired-looking man dressed in scrubs stops in front of us. “Miss Thackery?”

“Yes, that’s me. Miss… Thackery,” I lie.

“I’m Dr. Burton.”

At the name, I jump to my feet.

“Are any of Tobias’s blood relatives available? I need to report on his present condition.”

“We’re his only available family. We, ah, filled out the paperwork and everything.”

He narrows his gaze at my guilty expression. “Can a nurse or other member of staff confirm this?”

I point at the curly redhead typing away on a computer. “Allison can. She’s the one who gave us the forms.”

Beside me, Jasper nods.

Dr. Burton sighs. “One moment.”

It doesn’t take long to confirm our story, and soon enough, he’s back again. He shakes his head, knowing we’re not related to Tobias yet with no evidence to the contrary. “Your ‘brother’ is out of surgery and in recovery.”

I clasp my hands together as though in fervent prayer. “Is he okay? Can we see him? Oh my God, is he okay?”

Beside me, Jasper dips his head, exhaling.

Dr. Burton checks his notes. “He sustained several broken bones that needed to be reset and, due to suspected head trauma, underwent an MRI.”

“Head trauma?” I gasp.

He glances up from the pages. “The results came back normal. He does, however, have a concussion, so he’ll need to be kept under close observation for the next twenty-four hours.”

“He’ll be fine though, right?”

Dr. Burton gives a small smile. Something tells me it’s rare to be on the receiving end of it. “Yes, with time and physical therapy, we expect him to make a full recovery.”

He goes into explicit detail about the process while I nod and pretend to know what he’s talking about.

“Tobias is a very lucky man. It’s not often I’m able to deliver such positive news after a car accident like his.” Reaching into the pocket of his scrubs, he pulls out a business card. “Here are my contact details. If you have any further questions, feel free to call me on either of these numbers.”

With a shaking hand, I take it.

Dr. Burton steps back. “A nurse will show you to his room shortly.” With a quick nod, he’s gone.

Bewildered, I look over to Jasper. His hands are clasped behind his neck while he stares at the ceiling, nostrils flared.

“He’s going to be okay.”

Dropping his arms, he blinks. “Yeah.”

A middle-aged nurse arrives and leads us into Tobias’s room as two police officers exit. They give a cursory nod.

“I’ll leave you to it, but remember, he’s very drowsy. He needs to rest,” she warns.

After we promise we won’t be long, she winks and scurries away.

I reach for the door handle but pause.

Jasper is still. He stares at the closed door, a combination of fear, anger, and bafflement flashing across his features.

I raise an eyebrow. “Coming?”

He shifts forward, only to move back again. Shaking his head, he rubs the back of his neck. “Nah. I’m going to hang here for a bit.”

“Don’t you want to see him?”

He shrugs. “It’s all still a bit raw, you know?”

My smile fades. “The accident?”

“Yeah, the accident, his drinking, missing out on the contract.” Jasper’s Converse high-tops scuff the smooth linoleum. “I’m being an asshole, I know. But if I go in there, I’ll say something I’ll regret. It’s best I stay out here.”

As I open my mouth, my phone rings. Frowning, I retrieve it, wondering if Tobias’s parents or Tiffany have grown a heart. One glance at the screen confirms that no, they haven’t. My brow furrows when I realize it’s the same unknown number as before.

“Who is it?”

“No idea.” I reject the call before placing the cell in my pocket. “You sure you don’t want to see him?”

“Knowing he’s okay is enough. Might go grab another coffee. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

I watch his tall frame disappear down the hallway. Then with a deep inhale, I open the door and step inside.

Chapter Seventy-Five

The room is warm. The shades are drawn, and the streetlights from outside offer a soft glow through the gaps in the pleated material.

Tobias’s bed is pressed against the north wall. Dim lights emanate from behind him, while machines hum to the rhythm of his vitals. “Hey.”

That voice. It’s cracked and weathered but his nonetheless. I don’t even realize I’m immobile until I hear it.

Rushing forward, I throw my arms around my best friend. “Tobias.”

“Fuck.”

Straightening, I cover my mouth with one hand. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

His grin is weak. “Kinda.” Tobias attempts to point at his head, misses, and grimaces. “I’m a bit sore.”

“I’m such an idiot. I saw you and, well, I’ve been so worried. God, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Morphine’s the bomb.”

My gaze widens as I take him in. “Holy shit. Look at you.”

One side of his head is black and swollen. His left eye is glued shut behind a puffy purple lid, and there’s a long row of stitches above it. Deep, freshly tended wounds line his neck, right arm, and fingers, while his left shoulder, bicep, and forearm are set in a cast. The remainder of his body is covered in a blanket, but must be just as bad.

“Jesus.”

Tobias groans, closing his good eye. “I know. I was a fool.”

“You’ve got that right. What the hell were you thinking?”

He grunts, then grimaces. When Tobias opens his eye, he slowly turns to me.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It is. But can you sit down first? The room spins when you move.”

“Of course.” I drag over a chair. “What’s up?”

Tobias coughs before crying out in pain.

Jumping up, I lean over, caressing the cheek that isn’t purple. “If you’re not up to it, I can come back later. Jasper and I aren’t going anywhere.”

“Nah, I need to say this before the pain meds run out. I’m too chickenshit otherwise.”

“Okay then.” I take his hand, my thumb gently soothing his cuts and scratches. “What is it?”

“It’s about you and Reid.”

“Tobias—”

“No, hear me out.”

Glancing down at his hand, I keep quiet.

Taking a raspy breath, he mumbles, “You guys are meant to be together. I’ve always known it, even when we were kids. You had this connection, like there was a gravitational force or some shit. Even when you hated each other, the air would fizz around you. It was insane.” He closes his good eye, exhausted. “I should never have tried to come between you. It was a dick move. I’ve never had the type of love you and Reid share. Fuck, I’ve never experienced love, period. You and Jasper are the closest I have to family, and even though I know you guys love me, it’s not the same.”

My fingers skim his bruised knuckles.

“I just… I wanted to know what it felt like to be that important to someone. I figured if you felt it for Reid, then you’d feel it for me too.” He licks his cracked lips. “But it doesn’t work like that, I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

With effort, he faces me again. His voice cracks. “No, I’m sorry. I was so busy drowning in self-pity, I didn’t think about how I was affecting you or the band. It’s on me that we lost the contract. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“There’ll be other opportunities, you’ll see.”

Tobias fixes his gaze on the far wall. “Jasper can’t stand to look at me, can he?”

I give a gentle squeeze. “Losing the contract was hard on him. He’ll come around. Just give him some time.”

Tobias’s good eye flickers shut.

“You’re exhausted. I’ll let you get some rest.”

“M’kay.” Seconds later, he’s asleep.

I study him for a moment, hoping he’s comfortable. Reassured by soft snores, I slip quietly from the room. As I close the door, my phone rings. “For God’s sake.”

“You gonna get that?”

My eyes flit from the screen to my brother. He’s leaning against the beige wall, his long legs crossed at the ankles and a coffee cup in one hand.

“Unknown number. It’s the third time they’ve called.”

“So answer it.”

I give in to curiosity, accept the call, and raise the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Shiloh Stirling?”

The male voice is oddly familiar. For several moments, I try to place it but come up blank. “That depends. Who’s asking?”

“It’s Bradley Reading from Ironbank Studios. I have a proposition for you.”

Chapter Seventy-Six

“A proposition? What do you mean?”

Jasper mouths, “Who is it?”

I wave him away, too busy trying to focus on what Bradley fucking Reading is saying.

“I was impressed with your performance tonight. Your vocal range is outstanding, and with some refinement, your songwriting skills will be too.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Um, thank you.”

Jasper steps closer, hissing, “Sis, who is it?”

“Bradley Reading,” I mouth back.

“Holy shit!” His features are a mixture of excited anticipation and confusion. He grips my arm. “What does he want?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “He said he liked my performance.”

Jasper fist pumps the air.

I blink at him, stunned, while an amused nurse walks past, chuckling.

“Shiloh? Are you there?”

“Yeah.” Snapping out of my stupor, I punch my brother in the bicep.

He stops and glares.

“Sorry,” I apologize to Bradley, “there was a cat.”

Jasper scowls, rubbing his arm.

“A cat?”

“Um, yeah.” Rolling my eyes, I smack my forehead with my palm.

“Right. Well, I’d offer to call back at a better time, but to be frank, I want to tie this down as quickly as possible.”

“Tie what down?” My mind is a jumbled mess. Between singing solo, Reid’s declaration, Tobias’s accident, and this phone call, I can barely remember my own name.

“I want to set up a meeting to discuss a possible contract. It’s with one of my smaller labels, Bootleg Records.”

My mouth drops open. “A contract?”

“A contract?” Jasper hisses. He clamps both hands on my shoulders, eyes incredulous.

“Yes.” Bradley’s smiling, I can hear it in his voice. “A contract. You will have full creative license, studio time to record a debut album, and if all goes well, a national tour supporting one of Ironbank’s headline acts.”

Holy. Fucking. Whoa.

This is it, the opportunity of a lifetime. And it’s being handed to me by one of the most prolific music scouts in the business.

But then I gaze into my brother’s jubilant face. I remember my best friend lying broken in a hospital bed not even ten feet away, and it hits me.

Bradley didn’t mention my bandmates.

Excitement soon gives way to despair, and disappointment never tasted so bitter. Choking on my words, I mumble, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“What?” my brother hisses, shaking me.

Shrugging him off, I turn away. I clench my eyes shut and curl my hands into fists. “Look, thank you for contacting me. I’m so humbled, you have no idea. But I can’t accept your offer.”

There’s a slight pause. “That’s disappointing. Can I ask why?”

Jasper attempts to rip the phone from my hands, but I dodge his movements and turn to face him. We lock eyes. “I’m not a solo artist. I’m the lead singer of a band, a fucking good one.”

My brother stills.

“As much as I’d love to be signed to your label, I won’t do it without my boys. They’ve been on this crazy journey with me from the start, and I won’t continue it without them. They’re my family.”

Jasper shakes his head in disbelief.

Tilting my chin, I stare at him, daring him to refute me.

His shoulders slump. With a resigned smile, he steps in close and kisses the top of my head.

“You misunderstand me, Shiloh.”

Pause.

“I do?”

“Yes. As pleasing as it is to hear of your loyalty to your band, they’re also included in my offer.”

“They are?” I raise a shaking hand to my mouth.

“I’ve been watching the three of you progress on Rising Star. Your sound is original yet marketable. It will do very well on the rock music scene, provided it’s effectively represented and managed. Bootleg Records can do this.”

Despite Jasper’s frenzied whispers and my barely contained elation, we organize a meeting for later in the week. When I explain Tobias’s situation to Bradley, he’s suggests a virtual meeting instead.

I hang up and face my brother. “We need to tell Tobias.” Turning, I reach for the handle.

“Didn’t you say he was resting?”

My hand pauses. “Shit. He is. Goddammit!”

A frantic nurse rushes over. “I’m sorry to say this, but you’re too loud. You’re going to need to leave.”

Despite vowing to return later, I’ve never been happier to get kicked out of a place in my life.

Epilogue

Reid

Everyone wants a piece of my band. We’ve been hounded by reporters, marketing firms, commercial networks, and a shit ton of fans. It’s been insane. Since we took out the title, people can’t get enough of us.

The fame doesn’t bother me. If people want to make a huge deal over our music, I’m not going to complain. We spent years getting to this point, I’m not going to be a whiny bitch about it. So long as I have time to get behind the kit, it’s all good.

And see my woman.

I step into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind me.

She’s lying on her bed, staring out the window. She hasn’t heard me yet, so I take my time watching her.

Fucking perfect.

Her hair rests on the pillow like an inky black halo. One hand is behind her head, the other tapping a beat on her stomach. Her feet are bare, and her smooth, lean thighs disappear beneath an oversized band T-shirt.

The shirt falls off one shoulder. I want to bite the smattering of freckles marking her pale skin. Fuck, I want to claim every piece of her. She’s always been mine. Even when she didn’t know it. Even when I didn’t know it.

I slide the lock into place.

“Reid?” She sits up, and her shirt slips further down her arm, exposing the top swell of her breast.

I bite back a groan.

Hasty fingers rub tired eyes. “Hey. I’ve missed you.”

“Hey, darlin’.” It’s almost impossible to get the fucking words out when she takes my damn breath away. “I’ve missed you too.”

Her deep chocolate eyes flick from the window to me. “I didn’t hear you pull up. Have you been here long?”

Prowling toward her, I smirk. “A while. Had some words with the boys downstairs.”

Her eyes rake my body. She’s never been able to hide her hunger. Even when we were apart, her stare branded me like a fucking tattoo. It took everything I had not to bend her over my knee and spank her fine ass until she stopped looking my way.

It killed me.

I never understood how someone who loved as hard as she did could turn so cold. Fucking did my head in trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It’s only when I noticed her phobia that shit started falling into place.

She raises her eyebrows. “So they’re talking to each other?”

My hands clench at my sides at the thought of Jasper and Tobias. I get why they said what they did. There was a lot at stake, and they were scared and jealous. Contests can bring out the worst in people. But I thought we were brothers.

It’s going to take a while before the urge to punch them in the face whenever I see them disappears. Purposefully, I relax my fingers. “Seems like it. There’s a weird vibe though.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a long, slow process mending that shitstorm of a friendship. Jasper doesn’t mean to, but he still blames Tobias for ruining our chances of winning Rising Star, and Tobias is so wracked with guilt, he barely speaks anymore.” When she sighs, a lock of hair flies into her face.

I want to brush it away.

Distractedly, she does it herself. “Hopefully, they’ll be okay.”

“They will.” My heated gaze scans her body. Fuck, those curves will be the death of me.

“Did they apologize for being a bag of dicks to you?” When she notices my stare, white teeth sink into her full bottom lip.

Drives me fucking crazy when she does that. Voice low, I growl, “They said they should never have tried to come between us.”

“Good.”

My knees hit the base of the bed. Propping one onto the mattress, I grasp her foot. Then, raising it in the air, I nip the inside of her ankle. “They said it was wrong to fuck with people in that way.” I kiss and lick my way down her calf.

Her eyes roll back in her head. “Glad to hear it.”

“Jasper explained they were trying to do what was best for the band.” My fingers skim the underside of her knee.

“Maybe,” she breathes, her nails digging into my forearms. “But band or not, I lost you once. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Possessiveness rips through me, and I bite her inner thigh, loving the mark left behind.

She gasps, her grip on my arms intensifying. “By the way, how does it feel being a bona fide rock star?”

Looking up at her, I grin. “You tell me. My band wasn’t the only one signed to a record label this week.”

Shiloh called me after leaving the hospital. She was so fucking excited, I barely understood a damn word she said. It took ten minutes to figure out that her band had been offered a recording contract too.

I’m so fucking proud of her. She’s meant to be on stage; music is in her blood like it’s in mine. And though her phobia took her to hell and back, watching her overcome it is the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. When she sings, she rips the soul from the audience—with the right lyrics.

Sitting bolt upright, Shiloh pushes my hands from her thighs. “Where are you recording? Is it far? Don’t tell me you’re traveling overseas or some shit. Swear to God, if you’re going to be based on the other side of the world, I will pack myself in your suitcase.”

“Shhh.” I gently lay her back onto the mattress and cage her in with my body. She’s fucking tiny, but we fit. “We’re recording at Zeke Danton’s place. It’s only an hour from here, so I’ll be able to drive back each day to make love to my woman.” Dipping my head, I skim the column of her neck with my nose, breathing in. Vanilla. “You’re recording at Black’s Studio in town, yeah?”

She nods, relaxing into my touch.

“See?” I cup her face. “We’re going to be fine.”

Turning, she nuzzles my palm. “But what about touring?”

“We’ll fix it so our bands tour together.”

“Not sure if that’s how it works. I mean, what if—”

“Stop.” I look past her insecurities and fear to her truth.

It’s beautiful.

“Nothing, not even an act of fucking God, is going to come between us. You hear me?”

She stills.

Giving my heart to Shiloh is like playing drums. I need the rhythm for life to make sense. Even though the song might fuck up, the tempo will fall back into place again. It has to when there’s no alternative.

“I love you.” Her voice is soft, reverent, a whispered prayer.

I rest my forehead against hers, broken yet whole. “Love you too, darlin’.”

Our lips meet.

Our hearts beat.

And our bodies sing in time.

Thank you so much for reading LIE TO ME! I hope you love Reid and Shiloh as much as I do! Find out what happens when Willow meets renowned music producer, Zeke Danton—sparks fly!

Click HERE to start reading END OF ME!

Don’t forget about the other hot standalones in the Rock Me series! Have you read them yet?

The Rock Me Series

LIE TO ME—Shiloh and Reid’s story

END OF ME—Willow and Zeke’s story

SING TO ME—Harper and Drake’s story (Book 1 in the On Tour duet)

SONG FOR ME—Harper and Drake’s story (Book 2 in the On Tour duet)

BAD FOR ME—Mae and Tobias’s story

ALL OF ME—Tilly and Kai’s story

Have you read my dark college romance series, Cruel Desires?

Cruel Desires Series

DEVIANT SIN—Temple and Sin’s story

CRUEL SAINT—Eden and Saint’s story

BAD ANGEL—Eve and Angel’s story

VICIOUS STORM—Storm and Ariella’s story

Turn the page for a preview of END OF ME, SING TO ME, SONG FOR ME, BAD FOR ME, ALL OF ME, and DEVIANT SIN.

End of Me

Love isn’t beautiful.

And neither is the final riff of my guitar as it bleeds into silence.

I wait for him to say something, anything. But he just stares at me with his whiskey-colored eyes as if he knows I need him. And I do. My album won’t record itself and he’s the best producer in the business. But I made a mistake.

I crossed a line.

Now I’m at his mercy, and his brand of destruction is going to ruin more than my career.

Start reading END OF ME HERE

Sing to Me

Never trust bad boy rockers.

They lie.

They cheat.

They grasp with one hand and push away with the other.

I’m done.

He’s not.

And when we collide, this time his heart will be on the line… because I’m not risking mine.

Start reading SING TO ME HERE

Song for Me

I fell for his lies.

I trusted him with my heart.

Now it’s shattered.

Broken beyond repair.

When the bad boy rocker betrayed me he stole more than my trust, he robbed me of my freedom.

He begs forgiveness.

I demand retribution.

And when we collide, this time he’ll be the one left in pieces… because I’m going to break him.

Start reading SONG FOR ME HERE

Bad for Me

I’m not supposed to crave the drummer of the hottest new rock act, or notice his tortured green eyes. I shouldn’t care that he shies away from everyone.

But watching him through the lens of my camera is slowly killing me.

I’m here to do a job. I’m a professional… until I ruin everything. Now all that stands between me and career suicide is a drummer who hates me.

Start reading BAD FOR ME HERE

All of Me

Tilly

Famous rock stars don’t fall for girls like me. With a voice to die for, the perfect bad-boy swagger, and a dirty mouth—I never should’ve fallen for Kai Jenner. But I did… right before I left him.

Kai

She left. Screaming fans and willing groupies can’t get enough of me, and the one woman I want to stick around past the concert after-party f*cking leaves. I never should’ve said those three words to her. But I did… and I’m going to f*cking say them again—when I find her.

Start reading ALL OF ME HERE

Deviant Sin

I’m rich, angry and powerful, and I have one thing in my sights—revenge.

Nothing’s going to stop me from executing my plan and taking down the man who dares to call himself my father. Not even her.

Curves for days, hair a man can wrap his fist around, and a mouth begging to be owned, Temple thinks she can stop me. Dragging her into my world, putting a target on her back—it’s all part of the plan.

Claiming her wasn’t.

But now I’m addicted to playing her traitorous body like a weapon, and the only thing that will save me is sacrificing her.

There’s a reason they call me ‘Sin’.

Read DEVIANT SIN HERE

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Acknowledgments

This book was rewritten four times. Four. And I’m talking a complete character, setting, and narrative arc overhaul. Some days, doing so made me feel like I was on top of the world. While on others, I would have gladly watched my laptop burn. However, through it all, one person stood by me. He celebrated each milestone, wiped every tear, and kept reminding me to forget all the bullshit and just write. Thank you, mister. You are my heart, my home, my one true love.

Sybil Bartel, not only are you a phenomenal author, but you taught me more about the writer’s craft over messenger than all of the workshops I’ve attended combined. Thank you for taking my shitty excerpts and helping me morph them into something I am truly proud of. Thank you for paying it forward. I promise to do the same. If this novel is successful, it’s because of you, and if it isn’t, it’s because I didn’t apply your suggestions properly.

Amber Hodge, you are amazing and I would be lost without you. Your comments are honest, hilarious, and on point. I love how you never let me get away with writing half-assed scenes. I love how you push me to become a better writer. Your enthusiasm for authors and the written word is so damn wonderful, it’s a blessing to work alongside you. Just a heads up, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m chaining you to your desk so we can do this again.

Olivia Ventura, editor extraordinaire. Thank you for your eye for detail, for staying true to the voice of the narrative, and for making it sound how it ought to be. I appreciate you so damn much.

Clarise Tan, you are a goddess amongst mortals. Your cover designs are better than I ever dreamed. I am so thankful to you for bringing my vision to life.

To those who have been with me from the very beginning, Chantal, Rosie, Tarina, Lesley, and Mum, your belief in me renders me speechless. Thank you.

Billie, you jumped in at the eleventh hour and I am so very, very glad you did. Thank you for asking the hard questions, thank you for your honesty, this book is all the better for it.

There are many authors I look up to as role models: Kylie Scott, Ella Fields, Lucia Franco, Saffron A Kent, Tess Woods, Giana Darling, Charleigh Rose, Meghan March, Chloe Walsh, and L.J. Shen, (to name a few). Ladies, you. Are. Inspirational. I stalked you shamelessly on social media before growing some lady balls and contacting you in one way or another. The reason for this was not only because your talent blew my mind, but also because you are humble, selfless, genuine, intelligent, and sincerely excited for the success of others. When I grow up, I want to be just like you.

To my family and friends, the fact you can still look me in the eye after the smut I’ve written says everything about how brilliant you are.

A huge shout-out to Adelaide band, Tabula Rasa. Thank you for letting me sit in on your band practice, for answering my questions, and then bursting my eardrums in the best way possible.

Bloggers, I love you so hard. Sharing a passion for books and reading is the cornerstone of the writing biz. It is because of you more and more people are exposed to the amazing talent out there. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Readers, if it weren’t for you, none of this would be possible. You are the reason I put pen to paper, you are the reason my characters come to life. For every book bought, for every page turned, and for every sigh uttered, I thank you.

About the Author

Lee Piper is a lover of books. When not writing, she is either reading, at the beach, or eating her body weight in chocolate.

Lee Piper lives in South Australia with her drummer husband, cheeky daughters, and neurotic dog.

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