Cameron looked up from tuning his guitar when I strolled into the loft for rehearsal the next day. Narrowing his eyes, he tracked my movement, disdain curling his lip.

Fuck.

Cameron was as easygoing as they came. So I figured the sour look could only mean one thing: he’d found out about my meeting with Mac. And if Cam knew, everyone knew.

Squaring my shoulders, I dropped my backpack on the floor and sauntered to the mic.

Cameron followed, boots echoing off the high ceilings. “Seriously, bro? How could you do that?”

Jamming the cord for the amp into his Fender, he glared at me while feedback hissed from the speaker. The room fell silent as he turned the dial on his guitar, no one daring to make a sound.

Except for Sean.

Seated behind his drum kit, my best friend twirled his sticks, snickering.

I was about to ask what the hell was so funny when another muffled laugh floated my way.

Cutting my gaze to Christian, I found him adjusting the strap on his bass, trying desperately to bite down a grin.

“Dick move,” he said to me, then quickly looked away, shoulders quaking and lips pressed together.

Confused, I turned back to Cameron, who was now beet red and glowering. “We all agreed,” he growled, poking a finger at my chest. “No randoms in the dressing room.”

“Random what?” I ventured carefully.

“Women!” Cameron roared. “How do you think Lily felt when she walked in and found some chick spread eagle on the couch wearing only one of your T-shirts?”

Behind us, Sean dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“It’s not funny, asshat,” Cameron shot back, glaring over his shoulder. “What if it was Anna?”

“If it was Anna,” Sean managed between snorts, “she’d tell the girl to put her panties back on and quit hogging the couch.”

Even I had to laugh at that one, but it was more from relief than anything else. Meeting with Mac was a stupid move. And one I planned on keeping to myself. Since our rendezvous, I’d done some asking around.

Turns out, a quarter of Metro’s artists had jumped ship in favor of Twin Souls’ new label. So it only made sense that Mac would be willing to cut a deal with someone he could use to fill the dead air.

Me.

I was the filler.

But the dude didn’t count on my loyalty. Yeah, I was an ambitious fuck, but not completely without morals. And it was worth the price of admission to see the look on Mac’s face when I’d told him to hang it out of his ass. After I’d sucked down all his fine whiskey, of course.

“I don’t know which girl you’re talking about,” I said to Cameron, trying to keep a straight face. “Did Lily happen to take any pictures? I mean, I could probably identify her if I saw—”

“You’re such a dog,” Cameron replied, shaking his head. But he was smiling too. “Come on. Let’s get this shit done.”

Sliding his fingers across the fretboard, he launched into our first number. Sean and Christian joined in, and soon there were no more fucks to be given over my meeting with Mac. Time and space were reduced to the next note. The next lyric. The next beat.

Because in the end, it was all about the music.