“So now what?” Quinn asked, brows raised so high they were buried under her hair.

Beau’s three band-mates stared at him expectantly.

When he’d gotten in late that morning, they were congregated around the table like a bunch of old crones waiting for the gossip.

Gigi was at the store buying food supplies and they’d all but mobbed him the second he stepped in the door. He’d put them off for as long as he could, but since they all seemed to know that he and Gigi had spent the night together, he finally bit the bullet and filled them in on the basics.

“So now nothing. It was…fun. She’s not a virgin anymore, and I guess we’re supposed to pretend like it didn’t happen.” Beau tried to keep his tone light, hoping it didn’t reflect the turmoil churning inside him.

He’d had a few hours to let in marinate, but he’d been thrown for a loop when he’d gotten out of the shower. Hell, who was he kidding? He’d been thrown for a loop the moment he met Gigi and every second thereafter. What he hadn’t expected was for her to walk out on him without even saying goodbye.

Unless you counted the note. Which he didn’t. He barely held back a snarl as he recalled the words on the hotel notepad next to the bed.

Hey, Beau,

Thanks so much for everything. It was a lot of fun! See you back at the bus in the a.m.

Gigi

Fun?

Was she serious? Intense, raw, gripping, hot and amazing, maybe. Fun barely scratched the surface.

In fact, he’d been so crazy wrapped up and mind-fucked by the whole thing, he’d gotten up to take a shower to buy himself some time to clear his head. In those fifteen minutes, all he could think was that he wanted it to happen again and again.

By the time he’d toweled off, he’d resigned himself to idea that he had the major hots for Gigi. He wasn’t sure what to do about it since she was dead set against a relationship, but he couldn’t just let her walk away.

Tricky Gigi. She’d done him one better. She’d run.

The old Beau, the player, Mr. Good Time, gave him a stiff shake.

He should be thrilled. He’d gotten laid and didn’t even have to deal with the awkward aftermath. It was a win all the way around. For some reason, that wasn’t flying this time. It was like sushi. No matter how much he tried to convince himself to love it, it just didn’t sit well.

So what were his options now? Go to her, tail between his legs, and beg her to give him a shot. Even if she was as affected by their night together as he was—and, based on her shitty little note, she wasn’t—that couldn’t happen. She’d been crystal clear from the start. She’d worked too hard to get derailed by a man now. And she’d sacrificed so much to get this far, did he even have a right to ask her to try?

The only other alternative was to let her stay off the hook she’d so carefully managed to avoid with her rabbit routine this morning.

Despite his stupid infatuation, the right thing was as obvious as a neon sign. He’d make it real easy on her and let her walk away. No fuss no muss.

He nodded, again resolved, despite the hollow pit in his gut.

Later that afternoon, though, he found the doubts rearing up again as he faced off with the firing squad, Quinn at the helm.

For the third time, he explained, impatience coloring his tone, “Guys, seriously, that’s all she wrote. It was a one-time thing.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Quinn announced, and slapped both hands on the table.

“Quinn…” Rex said, and shook his head but she wouldn’t be stopped.

“No, seriously. I mean, obviously she’d just scared or whatever. I can tell you like her. You do, right?”

Beau pushed the stool away from the table and stood. “This isn’t some group therapy session. And it isn’t a band decision. I said I’m dropping it, and I’m dropping it.”

Quinn gave Rex the stink-eye and Rex sighed, then turned to face Beau.

“Listen, man. We just want you to be happy. If there’s a chance that you do like her, and you don’t tell her how you feel, you might be missing out on something, you know?”

“Got it. Thanks for the unsolicited advice. Now if this episode of Dr. Phil is over, can we move along? I still have two songs to write and sitting here getting grilled by y’all isn’t exactly getting the job done.”

He started to leave the room then stopped as a thought hit him. “In fact, just so things don’t get sticky, you should probably have her stay on your bus. I’ve got shit to do and she’s a distraction I don’t need right now.”

That last part was nothing but the truth. The only way he was going to keep from trying to finagle a repeat performance was if she wasn’t around. Out of sight…

“Beau, come on. I can’t do that. Where would she sleep? And what would I tell her?” Quinn asked, her tone pleading.

“Tell her whatever you want. Tell her she’s cramping our style. And she can sleep on the couch. It’s only ten days.”

“She isn’t cramping my style,” Tai said with a shrug.

“You don’t have any style. Even if you did, and she wasn’t cramping it, I don’t want her underfoot and that’s that.”

“Fine. But for the record? Me and Rex think you’re being an asshole. Right, babe?” Quinn crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her husband.

Rex held up his hands and took a step back. “I’m not in this.”

“Rightly so. It’s none of any of your business. Take care of it, Quinn, for real,” Beau said, then strode into his bedroom and shut the door.

All he had to do was avoid Gigi for the next week. Then she’d be gone and everything would go back to normal.

He refused to examine why that thought didn’t improve his mood in the least.

* * *

“Need some help?”

Gigi jerked back in surprise at the low voice directly behind her. She looked up into the stunning, solemn face.

“Damn, Tai, you’re stealthy! Scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to see if you wanted me to carry some stuff over to the other bus for you.”

“That’s really sweet. And since I’m no martyr, absolutely. Want to grab that box behind you?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t make a move though, and Gigi tried not to grimace. Here came the pity party.

“Gigi—”

“Tai—”

He held up a hand. “Listen, I don’t usually say much, but just give me a second here, and you can be on your way.”

He waited until she gave a nod. His gaze was inscrutable, and after a long moment he looked away.

“Regret is a terrible, all-encompassing thing. It fucks with you constantly, makes you feel like if you’d only done that one thing differently, everything just might be perfect right now. Even when your shit is going good, it keeps it from ever being great because you wonder if it could have been better if only…”

He’d aimed his speech at the closet door, and her heart gave a squeeze for him. She reached out a hand and patted his shoulder.

“I appreciate your advice. I really do. But this doesn’t apply to me and Beau. Besides, I can’t undo it and I don’t regret what happened.”

“I don’t just mean regretting things you’ve done, or risks you’ve taken. I mean regretting the things you haven’t done.”

“What are you suggesting, Tai? I should maybe beg Beau to sleep with me again? Sorry, I did all the begging I’m going to do the first time around.”

“Why does it have to be begging? Can’t you just talk to him and find out how he feels?”

“I think that’s pretty clear already. He had me kicked off the Man Bus.”

“After you left him that stupid note,” Tai argued.

“He doesn’t want a girlfriend,” she tried again.

“And you didn’t want a boyfriend. Things change. All I’m telling you is that you could be missing out on your chance at happiness. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

A tiny kernel of hope lodged itself into her chest. She thought back to her night with Beau and knew one thing for sure. She was willing to face just about anything for a real chance to do that again. Tai wouldn’t be encouraging her if he didn’t have some sense that Beau felt the same way.

Maybe he was right. Her pulse pounded as she nodded slowly.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him. But if this blows up in my face, you better be available for a week of chick flicks and ice cream. I refuse to sulk alone.”

“I’m in.”

She stepped toward him and he pulled her in for a hug.

“You know, Tai, someday you’re going to have to tell me the story of the girl who broke your heart.”

He shook his head and stepped back, his beautiful face turning to stone. “You got it all wrong, Gigi. She didn’t break my heart. She tore it out whole.” His bleak onyx eyes drilled into hers. “Would’ve been better if she had broken it. Maybe then she’d have left a piece behind.”

She blinked back the tears that rushed to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Tai,” she whispered miserably.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I’m only even mentioning it now because I hate to see you living with regrets the way I do. Go get your man, Gigi.”

He grabbed her hand and pushed her toward the door. She stepped through it, at once elated and terrified.

He was right, it was time to get her man, or at least go down fighting.