Security met me in the parking lot at the venue. Before I’d made it two steps, Elise shouldered her way into the wall of flesh surrounding me.

“You missed the pre-show press conference,” she accused as we shuffled toward the tents.

“Traffic.”

And Tori. Between the fucking and the shower that followed, I’d kept the driver waiting for almost an hour.

“The driver said—”

“Traffic,” I repeated, and when I cut my gaze her way, she pressed her lips into a firm line.

I wasn’t in the best mood. Tori had refused to come to the show. And while I couldn’t blame her—we were less than a week from the tabloid incident, and the press still hadn’t let it go—I wanted her here.

Head in the game.

Taking my own advice, I pulled my shoulders back. “I’ll do an extra couple of interviews in New York,” I said as we reached the barricades. “Set them up.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Because there’s going to be so much press coverage in the Catskills?”

Busted. Our next stop was upstate New York. Remote, with a laid-back vibe. The kind of place I used to hate.

I smiled. “Hey, I offered. If you line something up, I’m there.”

Otherwise it was long mountain drives. Picnics. And as much sex as I could talk Tori into.

Fuck, I had it bad. The “it” everyone always talked about.

I’d been inside Tori’s body over a dozen times in the past three days. And no matter what the tabloids claimed from the women who’d shared my bed, that was a lot. And yet, the mere thought of Tori made me hard, left me wanting. Because I did want her. Every soft piece. Every slick hole. All of it.

Elise mumbled a goodbye, heading in the other direction when we got to the media tent. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, it didn’t strike me as odd that no voices rang from inside the canvas cocoon.

“The prodigal son returns,” Cameron said as I pushed my way through the flap.

I smiled, genuinely happy to see him. It felt like we hadn’t spoken in … shit … I wasn’t sure how long.

Maybe going in for a bro hug was overkill, but I would’ve done it. Except for the look on his face that said, “try it and you might lose a limb.”

He was pissed. Pissed enough to make sure that whatever he had to say wouldn’t be overheard. Because we were alone. Really alone. No Sean or Christian. No roadies or security. And since there were enough people roaming around outside to fill two stadiums, that couldn’t be an accident.

Treading lightly, I closed the distance between us and shrugged off my backpack.

“Dude,” I said, hand on my heart as I smiled down at him. “This is really romantic. But I hope you’re not planning on proposing. Because, you know, I don’t like you in that way. But we can still be friends, right?”

Cameron’s hazel eyes flared, but I thought I detected a little amusement. “Sit down, jackass.”

I flopped into the chair, still smiling. “What’s up?”

Cameron tipped forward. “Really?” he hissed. “You begged off rehearsal yesterday. You didn’t show up one time to the hotel to go over the new arrangements I’m working on. You haven’t returned my fucking calls … and you’re asking me what’s up?”

I scratched the back of my neck, “Yeah … well …”

My lungs refused to expel enough air to push out any excuses. Because I had none. I’d called off band practice yesterday because I didn’t feel like going. But I couldn’t tell Cameron that. I couldn’t tell him anything. If he was pissed now, finding out about my fling with Tori would send him straight into orbit.

“Sorry, bro. It won’t happen again.”

Cameron looked as surprised to hear the apology as I was to offer it. But I meant every word. I needed to manage my time better.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.”

Straddling the line between irritation and “I want to punch you in the face,” Cameron waited for my reaction. The inevitable blow-up. And the revelation. Until that moment, I didn’t realize I had a pattern.

I held things inside, then I hit something. And only after I let my temper take me for a ride, leaving devastation and destruction in its wake, did I finally cop to whatever I was hiding.

“Sorry is all I got, dude. Take it or leave it.”

Please, please take it.

I may have been trying to do better, but I was unsteady, like a toddler learning to walk. Apply the right pressure, and I’d topple. I wouldn’t say shit about Tori. But I might hit something, or someone, and since Cameron was the only one here …

He blew out a breath. “Is there something I don’t know?”

There were so many things he didn’t know, I couldn’t force out a response. Not even a shake of my head. But there must’ve been something in my eyes, because Cameron softened.

“Is it Laurel?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“No. She’s fine.”

Spilling my guts about Jake would be simpler. An automatic get-out-of-jail-free card covering any and all indiscretions. But I couldn’t do it.

Before Cameron could dig any deeper, Christian popped his head in the tent. “Is everyone alive in here?”

Cameron contemplated for a second before waving him in. “Yeah, we’re all good.”

It didn’t feel that way, but who was I to argue? I was off the hook for the moment.

Christian joined us, feigning surprise as he looked me over. “Logan, right? I’ve heard of you.”

Shaking my head, I ignored the goofy bastard and made eye contact with Sean as he strolled to the refreshment table. “Shiner,” I mouthed.

“Where’s your babysitter?” Christian asked. “I thought she’d be in here.”

My anger rolled in like the tide. And I couldn’t figure out why. It’s not like Tori and I could wander hand in hand around the festival. Neither of us wanted that kind of attention.

Except when I spotted Dylan entering the tent with his boys, I thought maybe I did. I wouldn’t mind it one bit if he saw me coax that smile Tori wore when she was thinking dirty thoughts. Because he sure as fuck had never seen it.

“She isn’t here,” I replied, taking the bottle from Sean. “Too many people.”

Cameron’s mood had vastly improved since everyone arrived, and he threw a smile in my direction. “Well, if you’re lucky, you can find someone here and blow off a little steam.” I looked anywhere but at him as I took a swig of my beer. And of course, he picked up on my discomfort. “Wait a minute …” Cocking his head, he glanced me over like he could smell the sex on me. “You ain’t suffering any. Let me guess, you found a little cutie out there in the sticks?”

“What cutie?” Anna cut in as she slid under Sean’s arm.

“Logan’s,” my best friend replied, brushing a kiss to her hair.

Anna’s brows turned inward. “I thought you were with Tori this week?”

With Tori.

Anna’s question, coupled with the emerald gaze that had been able to see right through me since high school, stole the denial straight from my lips.

“He’s not with Tori,” Cameron scoffed. “They’re just stuck together. Speaking of.” He pointed the neck of the bottle at me. “A little birdie told me that you’re about to get sprung.”

I blinked at him. “Sprung?”

Cameron rolled his eyes. “Chase said that all you have to do is complete some online courses and they’ll modify your plea agreement so Tori can head home.”

Shifting my feet, I took another drink. “Uh … yeah. I’m all over it.”

If all over it meant not even a little bit, then I was.

Anna’s eyes locked onto mine, her lips parting with a question. But Sean pulled her a little closer and dipped his head to whisper in her ear. I took the opportunity to guzzle what was left of my beer.

“Be right back,” I said to the group, shaking my empty bottle.

As I made my way to the refreshment table, I felt a pull on the back of my shirt. “Logan, hold up.”

I turned to face the only woman I wouldn’t rip apart for pressing the issue. “S’up, Anna-baby?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. It wasn’t an angry frown, but the sympathetic kind that made my skin crawl. “Is that why you’ve been keeping to yourself? The classes?” Her soft tone elicited the same gut twisting response. “I can help you, Lo. You don’t have to try and figure it out—”

Her gaze darted to my left, and she pressed her lips together. Reluctantly, I turned just enough to find Elise hovering a few feet away, trying to get my attention. She had a brunette with her. A pretty little thing with dark hair and eyes to match.

Seizing the opportunity to get away from Anna, I said, “We’ll talk about this later,” not caring one bit if she got the wrong impression. At least it would buy me some peace.

She patted my arm. “Sure, Lo.”

As soon as Anna was gone, the brunette left Elise in the dust and strolled over.

“Hi,” she said, peering up at me through her lashes.

Spotting the VIP pass around her neck, I gave her a smile and then shifted my focus to our coordinator. But Elise was too busy glaring a hole in the back of the brunette’s head.

“It was nice to meet you, Jenny,” she said in the most sarcastic tone I’d ever heard her use.

“It’s Ginny,” the brunette corrected with a dramatic eye roll.

“What. Ever,” Elise shot back through clenched teeth. “Have a good time, y’all. I’ve got to get back to work.”

Confused, I sidestepped Jenny or Ginny, or whatever the fuck her name was. “Wait,” I hissed. “What is this?”

Elise inhaled a controlled breath as she turned to me. “This is your VIP. Full platinum, just like you requested.” When I continued to stare at her, dumbstruck, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “You forwarded me her information a couple of days ago. Ring any bells?”

Laurel’s friend.

Shit.

Roughing a hand through my hair, I sighed. “Yeah, right. Sorry. I mean … thanks.”

Elise shook her head, muttering to herself as she marched away.

I nearly plowed right into Ginny when I turned around. And because she was my sister’s friend, someone who’d showed Laurel a kindness when I wasn’t around to do it myself, I forced a smile.

“So, Ginny, is it?” I wasn’t completely sure of the name until she nodded. “How about I get you a drink and then we can find a good spot so you can take in the show?”

Technology can suck a dick.

I took another sip of wine, contemplating something worse.

The shriveled dick of a ninety-seven-year-old man.

Glaring at my laptop, I muttered, “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”

But it wasn’t the shiny silver computer I was mad at. It was myself. I should’ve known that once Logan was away from this little bubble we’d created, it would burst.

And it had.

Not seven hours after he’d left me, pictures popped up on social media. Photos of Logan with the brunette glued to his side. He’d asked me to go to the show with him. But being his first choice gave me little comfort. I wanted to be his only choice. Not his forever choice. But was it too much to ask for him to be satisfied with only me for one day?

He’s a rock star, Inner bitch singsonged, like that was an excuse.

“Fuck that,” I said to no one as I poured another glass of Pinot. “I’m a rock star. Rhenn was a rock star.”

Guilt crawled over me. Rhenn wasn’t Logan and Logan wasn’t Rhenn. The comparison wasn’t fair to either of them.

Rhenn and I had taken vows. And he’d never cheated. Logan was a fling. So technically, he wasn’t cheating either. Which left me with no good reason to be angry.

Except that I was.

Stewing, I turned on the TV, since there was no way I was getting near the computer again.

And I drank.

Over the next four hours, I finished the bottle of wine and cracked open a pint of that cranberry whiskey Taryn liked.

I wasn’t drunk. Just comfortably numb.

Pouring another shot, I gazed around at the clothes strewn on the chair, the dresser, and the floor. Logan’s and mine. Comingled.

What a joke.

Infusing steel into my spine, I dragged my rollaway from the closet with every intention of packing. But then a rerun of The Bachelor diverted my attention. By the time the rose ceremony came to an end, I decided that I needed a reality show of my own.

Maybe I was a little drunk. And pathetic, since I’d stayed up all night obsessing about Logan and what he was doing.

Making use of the cabanas the venue provided, I assumed.

With the brunette.

Just before sunrise, a car door slammed outside. Creeping to the window, I peered out the shutters. Logan, looking totally disheveled as he walked the well-lit path to the carriage house.

Not his carriage house.

Mine.

Hell no.

Smiling smugly, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for Daryl to tell Logan to get lost. Nothing.

The fuck?

I heard the beep as the lock disengaged. Surprised, I jerked my gaze to the nightstand where one of the plastic keys was missing. And then Logan was climbing the stairs.

Grabbing a handful of clothes from the floor, I stalked to my suitcase and tossed the items inside.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked after a moment.

Anger expanded in my chest. Invisible. Noxious. Turning to unleash my wrath, I found him staring at me. With a damned smile. Pushing off the banister, he crossed the room, crooked grin firmly in place.

Stunned, I froze when he gathered me in his arms, breathing me in like I was his air.

Some of my anger dissipated from the contact. No. Sliding my palms to his chest, I ignored the heat and the sparks igniting under my skin, and I shoved. Well, nudged. It barely fazed him. All I got was a weird look when he tipped back.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not at all pleased with the softness in my tone.

He cocked his head to the side. “Where else would I be?”

I felt my eyes narrow and registered the surprise on Logan’s face when he noticed. “At the venue.”

With the brunette, and screw that chick, I wasn’t going to mention her. Give Logan that kind of power. But then I realized, he’d probably already screwed her. And the only power I had was flight. I could leave.

Logan’s gaze shifted to my laptop. He stared for a good twenty seconds before bringing his eyes back to mine.

And then he pressed a napkin into my hand. “I got this for you,” he said as he toed off his boots. “They didn’t have plain sugar, so you’ll have to settle for chocolate chip.”

Sinking onto the side of the bed, I blinked at the cookie while he tugged his shirt over his head.

“Just tell me, Lo,” I said softly.

He tossed his wallet on the nightstand. “Tell you what?”

When I met his gaze, he didn’t shy away. “Who’s the girl?”

“A friend of my sister’s. I got her a VIP pass.” He took a step toward me. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t fuck her?” Another step. “That she didn’t blow me and that I didn’t even kiss her? And that I sat in a car for four hours in traffic, just so I could get back here and bring you that fucking cookie?” Tucking his knuckle under my chin, he nudged my head back, blue eyes digging into mine. “Would you believe any of that, Victoria?”

He sounded sincere, but more than that, why would he lie? He didn’t have to. We weren’t committed.

I sighed. “You don’t owe me anything, Lo. We’re not … we haven’t …” I licked my lips. “I just want the truth. Is that the truth?”

His hand slid to the back of my neck. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Please don’t let me be making a mistake.

“Then … I believe you.”

He blinked like he was surprised. Like I’d given him a present. And then he smiled, thumb stroking my cheek. My lips. The curve of my jaw.

“If you don’t want to go to the shows with me, that’s cool. But I’d hate to come back one night and find you out with some dude. So why don’t we keep it exclusive until …”

Until.

The proposal dangled between us, open ended. We could end tomorrow. Or next week.

Or never.

I smiled at the hopeful girl whose voice echoed somewhere deep inside. She was still in there. Broken and small. But still around.

With her urging, I leaned into Logan’s touch. “Until is good.”