The Mexican restaurant down the block—it's more like half a mile—is a hole-in-the-wall place. Its menu is scribbled in chalk above the counter, but then I don't really need to look at the menu. I already know what I want.

Ethan and I get in line.

As usual, he is effortlessly cool. I'm a nervous wreck but I'm doing an all right job keeping that to myself.

I press my lips together. "Your cap is really red."

His smile lights up his eyes. "That is the team color."

"Yeah, but won't it mess up your hair?"

"Lots of guys wear baseball caps on stage."

"Not the ones who bounce around and pull off their shirts mid-set."

Ethan cocks a brow. "Have you been coming to Dangerous Noise shows?"

I lean in to whisper in his ear. "You're more famous than you think you are."

My cheek brushes his neck as I pull away. He's warm and the skin-to-skin contact is setting me on fire. I want more of it.

I want all of it.

Ethan takes off the cap and shakes his head. His hair falls back into that effortless style.

"That isn't fair," I tease. It really isn't. I have to blow dry my hair to get it to cooperate.

He shrugs, still effortless.

Ethan's voice drops to something low and serious. "Piper was happy to see you."

"She's sweet."

He holds up his buzzing cell phone. "She keeps texting to tell me not to fuck this up."

I study the expression in his bright blue eyes. He seems sincere. But what does that mean? It's almost like Ethan agrees with Piper that he fucked things up between us.

It's almost like he wants me back.

But that's ridiculous.

Hell, it's impossible.

I try to say something, anything, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. What am I going to say? I'm not going to ask him if he wants me back. That doesn't matter.

Ethan and I are over. Forever.

I'm not giving him the chance to break my heart again.

The person in front of us finishes ordering. Ah, finally.

I step forward and order. "Veggie and cheese enchiladas with green sauce."

"And a side of guacamole," Ethan adds.

"With chips?" the cashier asks.

"No," I say.

"But with extra corn tortillas." Ethan winks at me.

Is that a friendly ah, you're so predictable the way you always order the same thing (which isn't true—sometimes I order tacos) wink?

It must be.

I can play that game too. "Four steak tacos with extra onions and chipotle salsa."

Ethan laughs.

The cashier looks at us like we're crazy. He nods to the salsa bar at the end of the counter. "Salsa and toppings are self-serve."

Ethan pulls out his wallet.

I grab his wrist. "Let me."

He shakes his head. "It's part of my per diem. It's the band's money, not mine."

"Okay." I chew on my bottom lip. It still doesn't feel right letting him pay for me, but I can tell he's going to insist.

After Ethan pays, we get salsas and waters and take our seats in a cozy booth in the corner. This place is cute. The orange walls are decorated with Day of the Dead paintings. The furniture is all tan and brown and there are cacti on every table.

This really is a cozy booth. Ethan's feet are touching mine. When he shifts his weight, his knees touch mine.

I pull my legs onto my bench seat and cross them. That doesn't do anything to ease the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

Ethan's blue eyes are fixed on me. His expression isn't platonic. He's looking at me the way he used to—like I mattered to him more than anything else.

His phone buzzes. It's loud enough I can hear it.

He pulls out his phone. "I'm turning this on silent."

"What is she saying?"

He glances at the phone then his eyes are on mine. "Piper doesn't get that the two of us are just friends."

"Right. Yeah. We're friends. Just friends. I mean, we're not really friends yet, but we're going to become better friends." I grab my water and chug. Ah, that stops the babbling. But my throat still feels dry. My stomach is still twisting in a really unpleasant way.

That look in Ethan's eyes is doing things to me.

My thoughts are interrupted by our food. I dive into my enchiladas before I can say anything else. They're hot enough to burn the roof of my mouth but they're also amazing. The tomatillo sauce is perfectly fresh and tangy.

The two of us being just friends is a good thing. It shouldn't make me feel empty and achy.

His phone flashes. He glances at the screen and shakes his head.

"I… uh…" I take another bite and chew slowly. "How has the band been?"

He looks at me like he's judging my intentions. I guess he deems them acceptable because he smiles. "Good. Mal and I had just joined when things ended between you and me." His voice is even and matter of fact about our breakup. It's like he's reciting a date in history class. "Fans really responded to us on that first tour. People liked what I brought on guitar. And you know the way Mal sings all breathy and needy. Women love it."

I nod. Mal does sound like he's in the middle of fucking a woman when he sings. "He's hot."

Ethan laughs. "We waited until we had a fan base to sign a deal. Put out our first record, toured more, put out our second record. We're finally at the point where we can cut back to touring five months a year instead of eight."

"Yeah?"

He nods.

"Using any of that time to date?" Yet another tactless comment. Awesome.

Ethan laughs. "That was smooth, Vi. Really smooth."

"Thank you." My cheeks are burning.

"No, I don't date."

"No?"

"I fuck. Dating is too much commitment."

"Yeah, right, of course." Again, my stomach twists and my shoulders go tense. What does it matter that Ethan doesn't date? I don't want to date him. I don't.

"What about you?"

"I was seeing someone last year. He wanted to get serious, but I wasn't ready for that."

I study Ethan's expression. His brow twitches. His eyes fill with frustration.

He's jealous.

It's wrong and immature, but I want to make him more jealous. "He was crazy about me. A great guy. A business student, stable, really willing to put me first." Only I didn't feel anything when Denny kissed me. It was nice but that was it. I never craved him. I never missed him. I never came close to loving him. He was a great guy but he wasn't Ethan.

"That's great." Ethan tries not to clench his teeth but he doesn't quite pull it off. "How is school?"

His brow stays furrowed.

He's really jealous.

But I'm going to take him at his word about this just friends thing. Even if it's making me feel sick.

I tell him everything I can about my classes. School is going well, great actually. I'm top of my class, I've done amazing internships. I'm graduating in a few months.

My professional life is amazing. I spend most of my time studying.

Ethan seems happy for me, but that doesn't make sense either.

He stared at my acceptance letter like it was radioactive and now he's happy I'm doing well in school?

I try to push it aside. I try to focus on keeping things platonic as I shift the conversation to sci-fi TV and which of the guys in Dangerous Noise is most likely to be a Cylon—a robot posing as a human (obviously Mal or Kit)—but I keep getting lost in his soft lips and his gorgeous blue eyes.

My gaze keeps drifting to the chest-piece tattoo poking out from his v-neck.

My hands keep begging me to touch him.

* * *

After dinner, we walk back to the venue and we hang out in an empty corner, alone, until it's time for him to get ready. Just like old times, I hang out on the sidelines. The band has gained an entourage, but no one pays me much attention. Except for Piper hugging both of us goodbye, nobody talks to us.

I'm in my own universe. My problems feel far away. The weight of Asher's death feels far away. Everything except Ethan’s smile feels far away.

The show starts in a flash. The amphitheater goes dark, the guys make their way to the stage, then the lights are on. The crowd goes wild as the guitar intro starts. It's Better Days, a song about loss and longing, Dangerous Noise's biggest hit to date… not that I keep tabs on Ethan or anything.

Ethan is at the mic, teasing the crowd.

"You miss us, Los Angeles?" he asks.

The crowd screams.

"We missed you too. It's true what they say. There's no place like home."

The crowd screams louder.

"It's getting hot in here, huh?" Ethan tugs at his t-shirt, teasing the crowd.

Every girl in the place shrieks.

Ethan winks at Mal then at the crowd. "No, must not be that hot yet. Maybe after a few more songs."

He strums his guitar, launching into their next song.

On stage, Ethan is in control. He's teasing the crowd and jumping around.

Damn, he's always been talented but he's full-on Rock God now. He's cool, effortless, bursting with energy.

I melt when he smiles at the crowd—I’d know that smile anywhere. I’d know that Ethan anywhere.

That's my Ethan, the one who loves sharing his music, the one who made me feel like I was the most important person in the universe.

And, dammit, I want my Ethan back.

I want him to be my Ethan again.

* * *

The show holds all my attention. The way Ethan moves, the sight of his muscles flexing and relaxing as he plays, the sound of his guitar—it's impossible to do anything but think about how I'd like to trade places with his guitar.

The last song fades. The lights go off. Then the crowd is screaming and applauding.

I haven't got a clue how to react here. I move out of the way, to the hall. Every fiber of my being is begging me to touch him. I need to get ahold of my senses before I do something rash.

But there he is, in the hall across from me. He's now sans guitar. He's shirtless too. Even in the dim light of the hallway, I can make out all the lines of his muscles.

"Enjoy the show?" His voice is a strange mix of cocky and curious.

"Not bad."

God, he looks good with sweat dripping off his chest. There's no pretense on his face—just the afterglow of performance.

This is the Ethan I fell in love with.

I want to touch him. I want to kiss him. I want to throw him against the wall and strip him out of those jeans.

Once his lips touch mine, there's no going back. My body will remember how much it needs his. My heart will remember every time he made me float. That's one hell of a dangerous kiss.

I'm not ready for it yet.

So I stare into his bright blue eyes. He is wearing eyeliner, navy eyeliner. It makes his blue eyes look even bluer.

It's hot as hell.

He takes a step towards the back door. "You staying to watch the headliners or you heading back to the bus?"

There isn't a single part of me that wants to stay. Not with the way Ethan is looking at me like he wants to throw me against the tour bus, slide my jeans and panties to my knees, and fuck me until I'm screaming his name.

Dammit, get ahold of yourself, Violet. The man threw you away. Are you really going to throw yourself at him again?

The band is playing in San Francisco the day after tomorrow. We're leaving after the show tonight and driving through the night to skip the traffic.

"I should start on that work." I slide my hands into the back pockets of my jeans so I won't reach out and touch Ethan. "Mal said he left his laptop."

Ethan nods. "Sure. This way." He presses his palm to my lower back then he leads me out the door.

The air outside is cool. The sky is dark. I take a deep breath and try my best to exhale slowly.

I can't move forward with Ethan yet, even if he is acting like the Ethan I fell in love with and not like the obnoxious playboy rock star who uses girls like me.

He nods to the roadies and various hangers-on smoking by the side door. They nod back in an of course Ethan is bringing a girl back to the bus already, attaboy kind of way.

The bus is only a few dozen feet away. There are metal barricades farther out. At the moment, there are only a few fans hanging by them.

Ethan throws a wave in their direction, then he leads me onto the unmarked black tour bus.

Ethan nods to a laptop on the kitchen table. He closes the door then leans against a bunk bed. "You really come here to work, Vi?"

"What else would I be doing?"

"Getting me alone."

"I don't…"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't thinking about unzipping my jeans." His eyes bore into mine. "Tell me you aren't thinking about coming on my fingers."

I am now. I swallow hard. "Aren't we trying to be friends?"

"Can't be friends with you if you're gonna look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm the only thing you've ever wanted."

There's no way I can stop looking at Ethan with lust in my eyes. "Same goes for you."

"I can't." Ethan moves closer. "You look amazing with that haircut." His fingers skim my bare shoulder. "It's like you're offering your neck to me."

I swallow hard.

"You still like being bitten?"

"Yes."

Every inch of my body is on fire. Ethan's breath is warm. His fingers are calloused but his touch is soft. I want those lips everywhere. I want those fingers everywhere.

Kissing Ethan is a bad idea. But my mind isn't working here.

My hand is already moving to his chest. Then my fingers are on his skin. I trace the lines of his chest-piece tattoo.

He leans down and presses his forehead to mine. His eyes go wide with intention.

I know that look.

He's going to kiss me.

Fuck, I want him to kiss me.

My body takes over. I nod a yes.

His hands go to my hips. In one swift movement, he presses me against the bus's wall-slash-window. The glass is cold against the exposed skin on my lower back.

Then my eyes are closed and his lips are on mine.

And he tastes good. He tastes like home. Right now, this instant, is the first time I've felt home in a long time.

My hands go to his ass. I pull him closer.

He's hard. And he's grinding his crotch against mine.

Every inch of me wants every inch of him.

This is the best thing I've felt in a long, long time.

I'm about to beg him to throw me on the bed when the door opens.

Joel steps onto the bus. "Fuck, Violet, is that you?"

There's surprise written all over his grey-green eyes.

I take a step backwards. "I… I should go." Before I do something I regret.

Joel gives me an out. "Sinful Serenade just started. You won't miss much if you go now."

"Yeah, great idea. Thanks."

I need to get out of here. My brain isn't working. It's mostly tuned to the Ethan is a sex god, I need him inside me channel.

It's a very appealing channel.

I manage to switch to the Violet, you do have self-respect channel. I step off the bus, return to the concert, and attempt to think about anything but Ethan's naked body.