“Yess. Oh God. Yeah.”

Quinn Myles slapped her chilly hands over her ears. It did little to deaden the sound of the feminine cries coming from the next room. She scrabbled around in the dark until she found the two throw pillows adorning the bed then pressed them to the sides of her head.

“Beau, oh God.”

She moved the pillows away. Just Beau? One half of her wanted to shout in relief.

“Rex! Please. Don’t stop.”

Aaaand that would be a negative. It was both of them. Awesome.

She abandoned her useless pseudo-earmuffs and threw herself off the bed. The thin tank top she slept in did little to shield her as the frigid air enveloped her and gooseflesh rose on her arms. For crying out loud, they could house penguins in this frigging place.

She stomped over to the door and yanked it open, then stepped into the hallway. She had no idea where the thermostat was on this hulk of a bus, but she’d stop them in mid-hump to ask if she had to. No way was she going to freeze to death listening to someone else bang. It was positively undignified.

Despite her ire, she lost her nerve once she got near the door and didn’t even flick on the hall light. Technically, she was their guest and she had made them promise not to act any differently just because she was going to be around for a few weeks. She rolled her gritty eyes. Her band-mates were so thick sometimes. She hadn’t really meant it. She was just trying to be nice.

Two months into their three-month concert tour, her bus had broken down. They’d talked about renting another until they found a new one, but Beau and Rex had invited her to stay with them on the “Man Bus” instead. She’d protested initially, but the move would save them almost ten grand in rental fees. That was a lot of studio time and she just didn’t feel right putting up a fuss.

It wouldn’t be so bad. On the plus side, she got to spend even more time with her two best friends and band-mates. No one made her laugh like Beau and Rex and the best times she could remember were when the three of them were together.

On the minus side, she got to spend even more time with her two best friends and band-mates. When they were on tour it seemed as if the only time they were apart was to sleep…or whatever the two of them did at night while she slept.

She didn’t mind the togetherness. What she did mind was having her heart torn out one cell at a time as she had to watch—or listen—as they took full advantage of the groupie adoration at every single stop.

And that’s what you get for loving two men and refusing to be with either one.

It had been the noble decision. The wise decision. She was like fucking Solomon.

Only really, really stupid.

Unwilling to play back the well-worn memory of the night she’d refused them both, she rubbed a hand over her face and focused on the now. And right now she needed to get warm. She felt along the walls until she found the thermostat then pressed the top button five times. That ought to do it.

A low, hoarse cry rent the air and she flinched.

Beau.

Her skin tingled even as her stomach churned. Had the nameless, faceless girl been giving him a blowjob? After searching for hours, had she finally found some secret spot that broke him? Was she so damn hot that he couldn’t control himself?

Quinn would have traded anything to be the reason behind that sound. Anything but Rex.

“Hey.”

Rex’s low, raspy voice tripped over her spine like unseen fingertips. She turned to face him in the almost blackness, barely able to make out his silhouette.

“Hey. I didn’t hear you come out,” she said, trying to keep it casual.

“I was being stealthy so they wouldn’t know I was gone,” Rex said with a crooked grin.

Another cry filled the air, this time from a woman. “Yeah, I think you’re safe there.”

He barked out a low, short laugh. “I was, uh, you know…”

“Done?” she asked, her tone drier than she intended.

She felt more than saw him shake his head. “Nah. Just refueling. I got hungry and thought I’d come out and make a sandwich. What are you doing up?”

“Well, when I started to lose all feeling in my extremities, I thought it was time to turn the thermostat up from Arctic to just Alaska.”

“It’s hot as hell outside, love. And what with all the exercise going on around here, we like to keep it cool on the Man Bus.”

“Yeah, yeah. One more week and you can have your igloo back.” Something brushed her side and she jerked back.

“Relax, I was trying to get your hand.”

She held it out to him and he grasped it in his. The heat of him seeped into her bones, warming her icy fingers.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding. You’re like a corpse.” He tugged, urging her to follow him.

When they stepped into the kitchen he flicked on a small lamp. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust. A moment later her pulse skittered as she realized he was shirtless. After two years of seeing him play the drums that way, it should have been no big deal. It was, however, a very big deal. On stage was one thing. They were separated by his kit, and all hopped up on audience energy and adrenaline.

This was much more intimate, and she struggled to keep her breathing steady. His black faux-hawk was mussed. His golden skin shone in the dim light as shadows dipped and played over the lean muscles of his arms. She could spend hours just looking at his body. He had a half-dozen tattoos and counting, each one more intricate than the last. Her favorite splayed along the right side of his rib cage and down over his abdominal muscles before trailing farther, beyond the button-fly of his jeans. It was a tribal design, one he half-jokingly said reminded him to follow his heart first, then his gut, but never to lose his head.

She swallowed hard then dampened her suddenly dry lips. “You should get one.”

Her gaze shot to his. A flush crept up her cheeks. Busted. “A tattoo? Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it. I just want it to be something really special, you know?”

He nodded. “That’s the way it should be. You hungry?”

She shrugged and he turned to open the fridge. “So who are the lucky ladies?”

“Just one. Her name is Shayla. She’s actually really sweet.”

Quinn gritted her teeth and tried to will the ugliness from her voice. “I’m sure she is. Why just one tonight?”

“Her friend wanted to come but she was married. Supposedly things are on the rocks, but I’m not interested in breaking up families. Only works if everyone’s single and knows the score. That way no one gets hurt.”

Her throat burned with the need to shout, “Except me!” but she bit her lip instead.

When Rex finally shut the fridge, he was armed with half a tomato, lettuce, mayo and cheese. “Veggie delight?” he asked with a tempting grin.

“Sure.”

He set everything on the table and grabbed a bag of rolls off the countertop. “Everything okay in here?”

The slow drawl from the doorway made her stomach clench and she looked up into Beau’s true-blue eyes. His honey-colored curls were tousled and he looked super relaxed. He’d taken the time to slip on a white button-down shirt but not to button it. Still, she was grateful for even the flimsy barrier. It was hard enough to stop from ogling Rex’s bare chest.

Until their semi-forced cohabitation, she’d been dealing pretty well with everything. Now though, it was as if all that hard work was coming undone every time one of them walked by without a shirt on or came home with a girl. If there weren’t thousands of fans counting on them she might have been tempted to play sick for this last week and head home ahead of schedule. As it was, she’d made a commitment and she was going to follow through, even if it killed her.

Once it was over, she could burrow in her apartment for a few weeks until she was able to get centered again and rebuild some of her walls. Then they’d be back in the studio, she’d get a new bus before they toured again and things would get back to the way they were.

“Yeah, just having a snack,” she said.

“You buying?” Beau asked Rex.

Rex took one of the sandwiches off his plate and handed it to Beau. “Thanks, but where’s the meat?”

“You ungrateful bastard,” Rex said. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘Never look a free sandwich in the bread’?”

Beau grinned. “No, I can’t say that I have. But I do see the wisdom of it.” He sank his teeth in, polishing off half the sandwich in one bite.

“I don’t want any meat on mine,” a warm voice attached to a small, curvy blonde wearing Rex’s favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt chimed in.

Quinn barely resisted the urge to snap back, “No, I imagine you’ve had your fill.”

She tried not to outwardly cringe as Shayla-the-groupie stepped into the room and wrapped a possessive arm around each of the men. The familiarity stung and just watching it made Quinn feel stabby.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Quinn,” she said as she discreetly studied the other woman. Shayla-the-groupie had a nice figure and her face was almost doll-like. The thing that really irked Quinn was how happy she looked. Satisfaction all but oozed from her pores.

“Oh, no need to tell me that! I know who you are. I’m a total Lemonhead.”

Quinn gave her a tight smile. A “Lemonhead” was what fans of their southern rock band, Hank Lemon and the Law, called themselves.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

There was an awkward silence until Rex said, “Do you want mayo on your sandwich, Shayla?”

“I was just teasing, I’m not hungry. You all finish up and I’ll meet you back in the bedroom. I have another two hours before I have to leave.” She started to walk away but stopped and turned back to face them with a hopeful look in Quinn’s direction. “Quinn, will you be joining us?”

* * *

Beau sucked in a breath and flicked a glance at Rex. Rex’s eyes were firmly fixed on Quinn’s face and he was as still as if he’d been cut from crystal. Beau wondered if there was anyone talking, because all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as he waited for Quinn’s response.

She opened her mouth once then closed it. After another long moment, she finally said, “I-I think I’ll pass. But thanks.” She set down her untouched sandwich then hurried toward her temporary bedroom.

Beau watched her slim hips swaying as she walked and his cock started to swell. “Mighta been fun.” Shayla shrugged and headed down the hallway, leaving him and Rex alone in the kitchen.

They stared at each other. “Holy shit,” Rex said in a low voice.

“You can say that again,” Beau replied.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Beau nodded. “I know. For a split second there…”

“Did you see it? She looked like she was actually—”

Beau cut in, “Considering it.”

They both got quiet again as they contemplated that bombshell. About six months before, they’d finally admitted to each other that they were both in love with Quinn. It had been a tough time for them all. They’d just done a show in Greensboro, North Carolina. The last set was over and a fan had run up as they exited the stage, begging Quinn to sing Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. The woman had said it was her husband’s favorite song and she wanted to videotape it to send to him in Iraq where he was stationed.

Quinn loved the song and had heard it hundreds of times, but had never played it on guitar. Still, she hadn’t hesitated. She’d just jumped right back onstage, dedicated her song to Sergeant Brian Dixon, and started to play.

As usual, her voice was a dream, her presence so commanding, there was no looking away. Her moss-green eyes had told a story of pain that the lyrics only hinted at. For those three minutes she’d taken a thousand people on a journey with her. Sang her heart out, just like she did every time she got up there. As the last clear note rang out, he’d managed to tear his gaze away to glance at Rex. They stared at each other, and it was plain as day.

They were both sunk. Done for. Mad crazy about Quinn Myles.

They hadn’t spoken at all while whistles and applause rocked the room. Later that night though, when they’d gotten back to the bus, they’d had a long talk and decided they would tell Quinn exactly how they felt. Let her decide if she wanted either one of them.

Rex cleared his throat, drawing Beau from his reverie. Seemed like that damn memory was on auto-loop.

“Nothing’s changed, you know,” Rex said. “She was kidding around, pretending to think about it. Or maybe she was just in shock at the suggestion so it took her awhile to get her tongue back. This was just one of those things. I’m not going to go blowing it up in my mind as something more.”

He nodded. Rex was probably right. Besides, they had told her how they felt and promised not to be mad or hurt when and if she chose to be with one of them. Instead she had chosen option three—neither of them.

There had never been discussion of an option four, and since neither one of them would be willing to share her, there was no point in talking about it now.

Was there?