Kellen watched Dawn exit the realtor’s office with a lump in his throat. So that was it, then. The rental house—where they’d met, where they’d first made love, where he’d developed such strong feelings for her, where she’d composed their song—was now back in the hands of strangers. Maybe he should buy that house and make sure the piano was part of the deal.

She climbed into the car beside him and after she’d buckled herself in, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Are you sure you have time to take me to the airport?” she asked. “It’s over an hour out of your way.”

“I’m sure.” He wanted to spend every possible second with her, knowing she’d soon be in L.A. and then in Prague. He’d be back on tour, pretending his life hadn’t been completely turned around in the course of days by this perfect, perfect woman.

“Not if we sit here for eons with you staring at me like that.”

She grinned at him, but he feigned ignorance. “Look at you like what?”

“Like we’re never going to see each other again.”

Didn’t she understand that it was a concern? “I was thinking,” he said, still looking at her with his heart in his throat. “Maybe I should sell Sara’s house—”

“I think you’d be much happier if you did.”

“—and buy the one next door. I hear it has a beautiful grand piano that an inspiring and famous song was composed on.”

Her eyes narrowed, and the happy smile he was expecting ended up a harsh frown. “Don’t you dare do that to yourself. To us.”

Puzzled, he squeezed her hand. “We have so many memories there.”

Her sigh of frustration was even more baffling than her scowl. She tugged her hand free of his and sat straighter in her seat. “I’m going to miss my plane.”

He backed out of the parking spot and once they were in the flow of traffic, he asked, “You don’t like that house?”

“I do,” she said, “but I already have a house. You already have a house.”

“But we don’t have a house.”

“And maybe someday we will, but it won’t be that one.”

Maybe he did understand where she was coming from. “Because it’s next door to Sara’s.”

“No, because I don’t want you to link me to a place. I don’t want to think that sometime in the future you might erect a shrine to me in some beach house and not let yourself move on. For years. I won’t have that hanging over me. Over us.”

“So I should start preparing myself to get over you?”

She covered her forehead with both hands, curling forward, her shoulder straining against her seatbelt, and shook her head. “No, I hope you never have to get over me. I hope we live a healthy, happy life together until we’re both in our nineties and die in each other’s arms at the exact same moment. That’s what I hope.”

The hard knot in his throat loosened slightly. “I knew you were a romantic.”

“Kellen, don’t buy that house. Please don’t tie me to a place.”

“How about a bed? Can I tie you to a bed?”

She laughed, and the horrible tension that had built between them the second he’d mentioned buying the beach house lessened.

“You can tie me to all sorts of beds. Don’t limit me to just one.”

And then he truly understood where she was coming from. Maybe. “I guess we can make memories together in a lot of beds and on various pianos.”

“I sure hope so.” She shifted and laced her fingers through his. “When Sole Regret’s tour is over, I want you to come see me in L.A. and maybe come with me to Europe.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you before the tour is over, Dawn. We’ll find a way.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. Her lips were pressed together, and her eyes were glassy. “Hey,” he said, elbowing her gently, “we’ll find a way.”

Her smile was a bit wobbly, but genuine. “I have the feeling this meeting tomorrow is going to change my life and make it harder to be with you, not easier. And then . . . and then I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Don’t worry about that until you know for sure.” He shook his head. “Actually, don’t worry about that at all. If opportunity is knocking on your door, you’d better fucking open it.”

Her smile brightened. “We’ll find a way,” she said.

Traffic into Houston crawled—nothing unusual about that—but he was now worried that she’d miss her plane and opportunity would miss the opportunity to knock.

“When is your meeting?”

She glanced at the clock. “In about eight hours.”

“So if you miss your flight?” He squirmed in his seat, wishing the rental car had wings so he could soar over stalled traffic.

“I’ll miss the meeting and maybe my flight to Prague. My life will be over.”

His eyes widened, and he whipped his head around to stare at her. She winked at him and leaned over to rub his thigh. “It will be fine. If I miss the flight to L.A., I’ll just hang out at the Houston airport until my flight to Prague leaves tomorrow.”

“They must really need to see you to put such a burden on you. You’re going to be exhausted for your performance.” Momentarily glad they were sitting on a freeway-turned-parking-lot, he brushed her hair from her face and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll be okay, and I’m sure they didn’t do this to me because they need to see me immediately. They’re in a rush because it serves their Hollywood agenda. I’ve no doubt that my hectic schedule didn’t even come into consideration when they made their plans.”

Traffic inched forward and after they’d creeped through a relatively mild accident scene, the interstate opened up and the rest of their journey was swift. A bit too swift. Kellen had been planning to drop her off at the door and make his way to New Orleans, but he needed more time with her. He pulled into the parking garage, and Dawn shook her head at him.

“I’m not the only one with a tight schedule here. You have a concert to get to.”

“I have plenty of time,” he assured her. He unfastened her seat belt, needing to touch her as much as he could.

Once he started kissing her, he didn’t want to stop. He almost had her convinced to venture to the back seat when she pulled away.

“I have to go now,” she said, succumbing to one more kiss before she opened the door. “You sure don’t make this easy on a girl.”

He grinned. “I don’t want you to forget me while you’re away.”

“As if I could.”

He climbed out after her and opened the trunk, lugging her bags out. She had four, and it hit him again that they wouldn’t be returning to the beach house.

“You should have just dropped me off at the curb. Let someone else handle my bags.”

“They wouldn’t have let me linger.”

She shook her head, but her soft smile told him that she was pleased and that maybe she didn’t want to part from him any more than he wanted to part from her.

Glad her expensive-looking luggage set—he was pretty sure it was genuine leather—at least had wheels, he grabbed her two large suitcases and slung her carry-on over one handle while she carried her smaller suitcase and her purse.

“When you get back from Prague—”

“I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can,” she promised. “I hope to see you by Friday.”

Less than a week, and yet it stretched out before him like a desolate eternity. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “How to be together.”

“We have to,” she said as they exited the parking garage and headed for the terminal.

They found her airline and got in line to check her luggage.

“What’s your house like?” he asked, realizing they hadn’t discussed things like that over their weekend. He needed more time. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way. This wasn’t a forever goodbye—not like the one he’d had to suffer through with Sara—but that knowledge didn’t make separating any easier.

“It’s a condo, actually. Ground floor because my piano wouldn’t fit on the elevator.” She grinned. “Another reason why I decided to rent a place to compose. My neighbors were starting to complain about the three a.m. writing sessions.”

“If you ever need a quiet place to work, my cabin doesn’t have neighbors. At least, not any you can see.”

They moved forward a spot in line, which got her closer to leaving. He placed a hand on her back and shifted into her warmth. He didn’t want her to go. How would he get through the next five days without seeing her, touching her, tasting her? He hoped she liked talking on the phone, because at the very least he’d need to hear her voice.

“You live in the wilderness?” she asked.

“Surprised?”

She laughed. “Not one bit.”

“It was my grandfather’s property. He left it to my mom when he passed, but she’d always hated it out there in the sticks, so she sold it to me. She’s down in Florida with her new husband. Well, not so new. They’ve been married almost ten years.”

“You never talk about your family,” she said.

“Nothing to tell.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty to tell, so I want to hear about them the next time we’re together. It will give us something to talk about.”

He wrapped a wavy strand of hair around one finger and leaned closer. “The last thing I’ll want to do when we see each other again is talk.”

He kissed her to give her a small sample of what he had in mind.

When they separated, she said, “You really don’t make this easy on a girl.”

Once her bags were checked, he followed her to the security checkpoint, knowing they wouldn’t let him through without a ticket. He considered buying one just so he could sit beside her until she boarded.

“As much as I want you to stay here with me, I know you have a long drive ahead of you. You need to go.”

“I know.” He pressed his forehead against hers, one hand resting on her cheek to commit the texture of her skin to memory, his other hand clinging to her fingers. “I’ve never been good at goodbyes.”

“This isn’t goodbye. This is until next time.”

She kissed him, soft lips lingering on his for a long moment that felt much too short, and then she slowly pulled away. He held onto her hand as she backed up, forcing his feet to stay rooted to the spot. When their fingertips separated, a lump settled in his belly, but he let her go. He did watch until she made her way through the X-ray machine and disappeared from sight.

Yep, he sucked at goodbyes. “Until next time,” he whispered under his breath as he turned away.

*****

The drive to New Orleans was unbearably long. Kellen reminisced about the amazing weekend he’d shared with Dawn and tried not to worry that she’d be too busy to see him again anytime soon. He had every other weekend off—thanks to Jacob’s visitations with Julie—and there were these inventions called airplanes. He’d be sure to make good use of them. The two of them just had to coordinate schedules, that was all. And once the summer was over, he’d be off tour and in the studio recording Sole Regret’s next album—assuming that Adam starting writing songs soon. But his time would be much less restricted than it was for the next several months. He hoped Dawn was okay with him following her around, because he planned to make a genuine nuisance of himself.

The sun was already setting when he reached the Louisiana border. The guys were going to be beyond pissed with him if he was late. Hell, he’d be pissed with himself. He’d needed just one more kiss before he let Dawn go through airport security. He’d needed something to keep her with him for as long as possible.

An incoming call made his heart leap. Had Dawn landed already? He smiled when he saw it was Owen calling. He suddenly missed the guy terribly. They hadn’t spoken much that weekend. A brief call or text seeking advice about Caitlyn and their apparent breakup—temporary, Kellen was sure—but otherwise, silence.

“Glad you called. I was getting really bored,” Kellen said.

“How far out are you?”

Owen sounded as desperate for company as Kellen felt. The drive from New Orleans to Galveston with Dawn beside him had flown by. The return trip to New Orleans alone seemed to be taking eons. And as much as he enjoyed listening to his personal virtuoso play the piano, listening to the classical music on the radio was a total snorefest. He was surprised he hadn’t yet nodded off and driven into a ditch.

“I got a late start this morning,” he said. “If traffic cooperates, I should get there about an hour before we go onstage.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, the guy definitely needed a sounding board. Maybe Caitlyn’s dumping Owen had been more hurtful and permanent than Kellen had suspected.

“How are you holding up?” he asked. “I know what you’re like after a chick dumps you.”

“She didn’t dump me. At least I don’t think she did. I’m not sure. She’s none too happy about Lindsey living with me.”

Wait, what? When had that happened? Kellen really was out of Owen’s loop.

“Lindsey is living with you? I thought Mom was going to take her in.” At least that had been the last plan he’d heard.

“She tried. My parents were going to rent the apartment to her.”

The one over their garage. “That’s a nice place.” He’d have suggested it if he’d thought of it. It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that it might be vacant since its usual renters were college students who took off for the summer months.

“Was a nice place. Lindsey had a huge asthma attack. Apparently there’s mold in the bathroom, so everything has to be ripped out and redone.”

“That sucks. So she’s just staying with you until the bathroom is finished.”

“God, I hope so. It’s nice to have someone to cook me breakfast, but Caitlyn was none too pleased when she overheard Lindsey calling me to eat this morning.”

Kellen shook his head. “You didn’t tell her about Lindsey? So she caught you.”

“I didn’t have the chance to tell her. She wasn’t talking to me, and then when she finally answered my eight millionth call, Lindsey had completely slipped my mind.”

Typical Owen. Kellen couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Well, you know how you could have avoided the entire situation,” Kellen said, surprised Owen hadn’t mucked up things even worse without Kellen there to interject his advice any time his friend needed it, which happened to be quite often.

“How?”

“Told her up front that Lindsey was living with you and not tried to hide it.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. Lindsey wasn’t staying at my place when I’d last spoken with Caitlyn. Circumstances changed.”

“So you really want to make this thing with Caitlyn work?”

Kellen liked Caitlyn, so he wasn’t sure why the idea of Owen committing himself to her settled oddly on his stomach. Maybe he just needed a taquito and some cranberry orange juice.

“I do.”

Kellen spotted a sign for a gas station. Perfect timing. Apparently he was starving. “Whatever makes you happy. I’m stopping for gas now. I’ll see you when I get into New Orleans.”

“Okay,” Owen said.

Several hours later, Owen called back. And thank heavens. Kellen had been sitting on the freeway, inching his way through some accident scene for well over an hour now.

“Hey,” Owen said. “Are you okay? I have this weird feeling that something is wrong.”

For some reason hearing Owen’s voice made Kellen’s thoughts drift to the night Dawn had tied him. His cock twitched at how amazing it had felt to have that twine wrapped around his dick, those beads up his ass, and when he’d come, it hadn’t been Dawn’s name that had spilled from his lips. Heat flooded Kellen’s face as the image of Owen tied over a pommel entered his thoughts. What the fuck was wrong with him? He must be fucking bored. And horny. Why was he horny? He missed Dawn. It was the only explanation.

“I’m fine,” Kellen said. Well, mostly. “I’m stuck in traffic. Some accident has the entire highway closed. I hope I can get to the show in time.”

“You’re okay, though?” Owen asked.

“Of course. Other than being highly annoyed. Sorry to worry you.”

“Like I’d ever worry about you.”

Kellen knew he was lying, but he didn’t embarrass Owen about his concern. That big heart of his was what allowed their friendship to develop and stay strong through the years.

“I’ll let the guys know you might be late.”

“I refuse to be late, even if I have to hydroplane this rental car through the bayou.”

Owen’s laugh made Kellen smile. He missed the guy and couldn’t remember the last time they’d been separated for longer than a day. He wondered if now that they both had girlfriends, if they’d see each other less. Kellen guessed it was inevitable. While he was excited to build a future with Dawn, he’d likely never get over Owen. But maybe he didn’t have to. They could be couple-friends with Owen and Caitlyn; that was a thing. And he was sure Dawn would love Owen as much as he did once she got the chance to know him. Kellen had enjoyed what little time he’d spent with Caitlyn, and he could see the two women becoming friends just as he and Owen were friends. Caitlyn was busy with her company, but surely they could make this work.

Kellen was thinking about the future and all the fun times in store for the four of them long after Owen disconnected. The next time his phone rang, it was Dawn. And immediately the semi he’d been sporting became a raging hard-on. He glared at his crotch, wondering what was so stimulating about talking on the phone while stuck in traffic.

“I’m safe in L.A.,” she said. “And so nervous, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“You’ll be great. They’ll love you.”

“I’m not even sure why I want them to love me. I can’t believe Wes is being so tightlipped. He’s usually the type to brag about how awesome his plans for my future are.”

She laughed, and he had to admit that she sounded nervous. Or maybe he heard nerves in her voice just because they were speaking on the phone for the first time. She might always have that high-pitched edge to her voice on the phone.

“So do you think that means this potential deal is huge or embarrassingly small?”

“Oh,” she said. “You know, maybe that’s it. I never even considered that it’s something so small that he was too embarrassed to tell me about it.” She laughed—almost hysterically. “That must be it. And I worried over it the entire flight.”

Kellen didn’t have the heart to point out that they probably wouldn’t have flown her to L.A. in such a rush if it wasn’t a big deal.

“So how is New Orleans? We really need to spend more time there. I had so much fun.”

“I’m not quite there yet,” he said. “I ran into more traffic.”

“Oh no, will you make it to your show in time?”

He glanced at the clock, and his belly fluttered. “I’ll be cutting it close, but I’ll make it.” He hoped.

“I’d say you should have just dumped me off at the terminal, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like your many marvelous goodbyes.”

He loved the way she made him feel. Not just in the bedroom—though that was pretty spectacular—but every single time she opened that gorgeous mouth of hers.

“If I’m late, I’m late,” he said. “The guys will get over it. I’ve never been late in my life. Adam’s the one that usually has us waiting.” Making people wait never gave Adam pause, but being late would bother Kellen.

“I hope you make it on time, but don’t be reckless. Get there safe.”

Not many people cared about Kellen enough to tell him to be safe, so her words hit him hard. Hell, everything about Dawn O’Reilly hit him hard. He was lucky to have found her. Lucky to have bought that stupid house on the Galveston shore. Lucky that she’d been playing that song—their song—that night when he’d been mourning on the beach. Their stars were aligned, perfectly aligned. His only fear was that something would fuck it all up.

“I’ll be safe,” he promised. “You be safe too. And promise you’ll let me know how your dinner meeting goes.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it will be lame.”

And he was sure someone in Hollywood had figured out that his girlfriend was amazing. “Have fun.”

“I’ll try. But I’d be having more fun there with you.”

*****

Kellen arrived at the venue just minutes before they were scheduled to take the stage.

He hurried through the backstage area, glad the roadies cleared a path for him, and found Owen standing near the stage entrance with his bass strapped on and hooked up to the sound equipment. Kellen had cut it really close.

“You made it,” Owen said, slapping him on the arm.

“Remind me never to drive from Galveston to New Orleans again.” At least not alone. Lord, he’d been ready to drive into the nearest moss-draped bald cypress by the end of it.

The technician handed Kellen his guitar, and he flipped the strap over his head, glad he didn’t have to worry about makeup and a costume change.

“Dawn didn’t come back with you?” Owen asked.

Kellen shook his head. “We’re trying to sort out where we go next.” Well, she was going places. He was mostly just worried he’d be left behind.

Owen scratched at a bit of beard growth. “Yeah, Caitlyn and I hit that point as well. Fortunately, we talked it out and are moving forward.”

Kellen smiled, the adrenaline rush of his near lateness waning and sapping his energy. “That’s great.”

Owen frowned and gnawed on his lip. “You ever get the feeling that something is wrong? Or that something bad is about to happen?”

“Sometimes,” Kellen said. Owen did look worried. Antsy even.

“I’ve been feeling like that for about an hour. I called a bunch of people, and everyone assures me they’re okay, but this feeling of dread won’t go away.”

Kellen opened his mouth to assure Owen that he was sure everyone was fine, but was interrupted by Jacob asking, “Where’s Adam?”

Owen glanced around, and then shrugged. “No idea.”

Jacob pointed out Adam’s guitar sitting untouched in its stand. “He left his guitar.”

“Maybe he had to go to the bathroom,” Kellen said. “Ever try to take a piss with a guitar strapped on?” He’d once had to throw away a perfectly good guitar because his aim had been off.

“Can’t say that I have,” Jacob said. He stared at the door as if Adam coming through it depended solely on his focus.

A few minutes later, Gabe hopped down from the stage, his drumsticks in one hand. “What’s the holdup?”

“Adam’s missing,” Jacob said.

“Missing?”

“Yeah, he was just here.”

And Kellen had been worried that people would be waiting on him for a change.

Owen grabbed Kellen’s arm and attention. “Should we go look for him?”

“Let the road crew handle it.” Kellen doubted they’d have to wait much longer. “We wouldn’t want them to have to round us all up again when they find him.”

Kellen was rethinking his doubt when the road crew turned up and claimed there were no signs of Adam, not even the motorcycle he’d rented. Apparently he’d taken off without letting anyone know where he was going.

“Fuck!” Jacob yelled, turning accusative eyes in his bandmates’ direction as if they’d given Adam the okay to blow off the show. “Did he say anything to any of you?”

Owen cringed beneath Jacob’s anger and shook his head. Kellen mimicked Owen’s motion. Why would they stand there for ten minutes waiting for Adam to show up and then suddenly remember they knew exactly where he was? Sometimes Jacob made no sense.

“Fuck!” Jacob shouted again. “What in the hell is he thinking?”

“Maybe there’s an emergency,” Owen said exactly what Kellen was thinking.

“Even if there is, he could have taken a few seconds to tell someone,” Jacob said.

True, but if the emergency involved Adam, maybe he was physically incapable of telling someone.

“Fuck!” Jacob yelled. “I’m going after him.”

“Do you know where he went?” Gabe asked.

Jacob checked the Adam-tracking app on his phone, but all he could tell was that Adam was headed west.

“What’s west?” Kellen asked. Besides Dawn.

“Texas. Madison. His fucking heroin dealer. How the hell should I know?”

“Calm down,” Owen said. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I’ll try calling him,” Kellen said. “Maybe he’ll answer.” He hoped that by presenting a calm front, the rest of them would follow his lead. Because they were all freaking out. He listened to Adam’s phone ring and ring, but he got no answer. While he was leaving a message, Sally joined them.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why aren’t you on stage?”

“Adam isn’t here,” Jacob said. “We can’t perform without our lead guitarist, can we?”

“I’m worried.” Owen looked at Kellen and lifted his brows in an unspoken question.

Kellen shook his head—he hadn’t been able to reach Adam. He tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“He wouldn’t just run off like that unless it was a life or death situation.”

“Yes, he would,” Jacob said.

Kellen could see both their points. It was very possible that Adam was in trouble, but it was equally likely that Adam was just being irresponsible Adam. It wouldn’t be the first time. Why would anyone think it would be his last?

Jacob took a moment to remind them of Adam’s addiction problems and how Jacob himself had always been the one who’d scraped the guy off rock bottom.

“He’s changed, Jacob,” Gabe said, though he was looking at the floor, so Kellen didn’t think he was convinced that Adam had changed.

“He has?” Jacob shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t see it.”

While the rest of them looked on, wondering what the hell he was doing, Jacob jogged out onto the stage.

“Good evening, New Orleans,” he called out to the audience. “You look ready to rock!”

They cheered, and Kellen cringed. Why was Jacob getting them amped up when there was no way for them to perform?

“Unfortunately, our performance is not going to happen tonight. Our lead guitarist, Adam Taylor, was called away on an emergency. So we have to cancel the show.”

The crowd roared in angry disappointment, and Jacob promised to square them away, but even if they refunded the tickets or rescheduled, the fans would never get back the time they’d wasted coming to the arena only to be turned away.

“This is a fucking nightmare,” Gabe said.

“Understatement of the century,” Owen said. “The fans are pissed.”

Kellen was starting to get that way himself, and it took a lot to piss him off.

Jacob returned a few minutes later with some teenager wearing a beanie hat, and asked Kellen if he’d reached Adam. Kellen shook his head. Obviously not.

“Okay.”

Jacob explained his plan B: having a young guitarist, who they didn’t know from Adam—actually, they did know he wasn’t Adam—take their wildly talented and popular lead guitarist’s place that night.

Desperate much, Jacob?

“So I say we give him a chance to prove himself,” Jacob was saying. “What’s your name?”

He didn’t even know the guy’s name?

“Wes.”

The same name as Dawn’s agent—what were the odds? Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the kid knew the ins and outs of the music business just as Dawn’s agent did. Or maybe the guy couldn’t tell a fretboard from a tuning peg.

Kellen’s jaw dropped when Wes played every requested Sole Regret riff and solo with surprising skill. He was no Adam Taylor. Hell, Kellen was no Adam Taylor and he’d played with the guy for a decade. But the kid could play. So they held the concert without Adam and let young Wes be a rock star for an evening.

Perhaps someone—Jacob—should have asked Kellen to fill in for Adam. He could have handled it. He didn’t want the job full-time or anything, but fuck, no one—certainly not Jacob—had even asked Kellen if he wanted to play lead in Adam’s place. One of the technicians could have probably played Kellen’s part on rhythm guitar. Maybe Kellen should have said something instead of assuming one of the guys would read his mind. But he didn’t hold any of that against young Wes.

Kellen actually had a good time with Owen onstage. They played off one another, leaving Wes alone so that he could concentrate. Playing with Owen took the edge off, even though Kellen was already missing Dawn and still worried about Adam.

Once the concert ended, he followed Owen back to the tour bus, checking his phone for messages. One from his cellular carrier, but nothing he wanted to hear or read. Nothing from Adam. Nothing from Dawn.

Kellen sighed and plopped down on the sofa next to Owen. “I actually think Jacob was okay with that little scenario.”

“More than okay with it,” Gabe said. “I think he preferred it. He had Sally get that kid’s information.”

“He’s a nice kid and all,” Owen said, “but . . .”

“. . . he’s no Adam Taylor,” the three said in unison.

Jacob had reached the bus before them all, heading straight for the back to be alone or avoid them or who knew what. Kellen was having a hard time reading Jacob tonight. Something was bothering him. Maybe it was just the situation with Adam, but Kellen got the feeling there was more to it than another disappointment. This wasn’t the first show that Adam had derailed. He’d once passed out in the middle of a performance from an overdose of whatever junk he’d shot into his veins. At least Adam was clean now. Or was he?

Jacob sauntered in their direction. “Anyone hear from Adam yet?” Jacob asked.

That strange vibe Kellen had been getting from Jacob all night intensified as soon as he and the others admitted they still hadn’t heard from Adam.

“I’ve had it with his bullshit,” Jacob said. Without taking a breath, he blurted, “Adam’s out of the band.”

Owen stiffened beside Kellen. “What?”

Kellen was too shocked to even get a word out. They couldn’t do that to Adam. They couldn’t do that to Sole Regret. Neither would survive.

“He’s toxic,” Jacob said. “We need to get rid of him. Replace him with someone who takes our success seriously.”

There was more than one problem with getting rid of Adam.

“Adam writes all of our music,” Kellen reminded them. Maybe Jacob didn’t realize how important a composer was to the success of a band, but he sure as hell did. “We can’t just kick him out.”

Jacob shrugged. “We’ll write the music ourselves and if necessary, hire songwriters.”

Uh, no. That wasn’t going to happen.

“This is bullshit,” Kellen said. Jacob was the self-proclaimed leader of the band, but he did not get to make all the decisions without input from the rest of them. “Adam is one of us. He’s always been one of us. We can’t do this to him.”

“We don’t even know why he took off,” Owen said, obviously still focused on the idea that Adam was hurt or in danger. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“More than two hours later, and he still hasn’t checked in to let us know what the fuck is going on!” Jacob yelled. “He obviously doesn’t give a shit about any of us or the fans or the music. All he cares about is himself. It’s time to cut him loose. If he wants to destroy himself, fine, but I’m not letting him take the rest of us down with him.”

“I want to hear what he has to say before I weigh in.” Gabe finally broke his silence. “For all we know, he’s dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Owen flinched and leaned closer to Kellen, as if he could guard him from that possibility. “Don’t even say that.”

“It would save me the trouble of telling him to fuck off,” Jacob said in a growl.

This wasn’t the Jacob they knew. There was a line a man should never cross and then there was a line past that one. Jacob had leapt over all the lines and was so far beyond acceptable behavior that Kellen had a mind to punch him.

“You’re such an asshole,” Owen said.

Exactly.

Jacob further demonstrated his assholery by getting right into Owen’s face. “I’d rather be an asshole than a spineless wuss,” he growled at him.

Kellen bristled, fighting the urge to wallop Jacob. He knew if he fought Owen’s battles, he’d be giving credibility to Jacob’s insults, but fuck, Jacob was pushing all of Kellen’s anger buttons at once. He couldn’t remember ever being this pissed at anyone, much less someone he considered one of his best friends.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Owen shoved Jacob away.

“You’re a pushover, Owen,” Jacob said. “You always have been.”

“Don’t take your frustration with Adam out on Owen,” Kellen said. He squeezed Owen’s leg to keep himself from punching Jacob. He refused to stoop to that level just yet. Jacob was under a lot of pressure. And though it might make Kellen feel better, beating the crap out of Jacob would only make things worse in the long run. “You’re the one who never bends. You’re the mighty oak, standing tall and rigid against any force that threatens your position.”

“Someone has to be strong.”

“Listen to what Kellen is trying to warn you about,” Gabe said. “If you never bend, you will break, Jacob. Don’t you see that? We’ll figure out what to do after we talk to Adam.”

“Kellen could play lead,” Jacob said.

So now that was his solution? Not when they performed, but afterwards? Kellen couldn’t believe Jacob had the nerve to suggest it.

“And Adam play rhythm?” Owen asked. “He’d never agree to that.”

Jacob gaped at Owen as if he couldn’t figure out how someone so clueless could find the mental capacity to breathe. “No. We’d get a new rhythm guitarist.”

“I prefer rhythm guitar,” Kellen said. It linked him with Owen in a way he wasn’t willing to give up. And he knew Adam would be back soon. Adam always came back. And Kellen refused to give Jacob what he thought was an easy solution. It wasn’t a solution at all, just a different set of problems.

“Then we get a new lead guitarist,” Jacob said, tossing his hands in the air and shaking his head. “I don’t care either way, I just want Adam gone. And not temporarily. For good.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Owen said, again mirroring Kellen’s thoughts. “I’m sure he’ll explain everything when he gets back. He deserves a second chance.”

“A second chance?” Jacob sucked in a harsh breath.

Kellen nodded. Yes, Adam deserved a second chance.

“He’s already had a hundred second chances,” Jacob said. “Or more! He’s gone too far this time. I’m not putting up with his shit anymore. So if you won’t get rid of him, then I’m out of here.”

Did he really mean that? Or was he drawing a line he thought they wouldn’t cross?

Gabe’s breathless what actually forced Jacob to turn away.

“There’s the door,” Owen said, pointing in case Jacob had forgotten where it was.

Jacob stared at Owen for a long moment as if measuring the weight of his words. He bit his lip and nodded slightly before he said, “So Owen chooses Adam over me.” He turned his attention to Kellen. “What about you, Kellen? I’m sure you’ll go along with whatever Owen says since you can’t live without each other.”

Of course he’d think that was why he sided with Owen. Not because Owen was right—in Kellen’s opinion Owen was right to show Jacob the door if he wanted to leave so bad—but because he thought Kellen was incapable of forming an opinion of his own.

“Fuck you, Jacob,” Kellen said.

Jacob turned to Gabe, who was still trying to reason with the bastard.

“Don’t do this, Jacob. It isn’t worth it,” Gabe said.

Jacob crumpled, defeated by the one he likely considered a guaranteed ally. “I guess this is goodbye, then. Good luck with Adam. He’s only going to drag you down with him. I guess you’ll just have to see it for yourself. I’m through being his buffer. None of you have any idea how bad he can get—you have absolutely no clue. But you’ll figure it out soon enough, and I might have already moved on.”

Jacob took his bag to the front of the bus and talked the driver into pulling over onto the shoulder of the road.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gabe asked.

Kellen cringed. He wouldn’t really take it this far would he? Based on Owen’s concerned grimace, he decided they were still thinking alike. They wanted Jacob to back down, not hitchhike himself into a grave.

“I’m leaving,” Jacob said.

“Be reasonable, Jacob.” Gabe went after him, grasping his shoulder, but Jacob shrugged away. “We can work through this. Stay. Let’s talk about it.”

“Open the door,” Jacob demanded.

Owen started to rise, but Kellen figured if the guy was going to go, the guy was going to go. No one would be able to change his mind. Jacob would have to come to the conclusion that he was a fucking rash idiot on his own.

“Great fucking plan, Jacob,” Gabe called after him. “This doesn’t solve a goddamned thing. Jacob!”

“Let him go if that’s what he wants,” Kellen said. “God knows he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.” The understatement of the evening.

“He might get hit by a car,” Owen said.

Kellen snorted. Leave it to Owen to be worried for someone who had called him a wuss and then destroyed their livelihood in the space of twenty minutes. The bus rolled forward and returned to the traffic lane, leaving Jacob behind on the side of the road.

“What the fuck just happened?” Gabe stared at him and Owen as if he didn’t recognize them. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Jacob just screwed us all, that’s what happened,” Kellen said. And Jacob thought Adam was the irresponsible, selfish jackhole of the band? The man needed to take a look in the mirror.

“Did Sole Regret just break up?” Owen grabbed Kellen’s arm. “Did he actually leave? He’s coming back, though, right? After we find Adam and Jacob clears his head, he’ll be back.”

“I’m not so sure,” Kellen said. “I think we’re through.”

Now what the fuck was he supposed to do?