Simon choked down the steeped ginger water with a healthy squeeze of honey in it. It definitely helped. He’d hit all the high notes for the night.

The fan club filled the middle of the arena and Donovan had even arranged to have one-hundred fans from California flown out. The fans paid a pretty penny for the adventure, which Simon still couldn’t believe.

He loved music. But these people ponied up over four-hundred dollars for front row seats at the fan club show. Not even a regular show.

They were pretty much playing their playlist for the following night—a practice run of sorts. And honestly, only two songs of the fourteen needed to be rethought. “Torn to Pieces” was a ballad that had Margo in the spotlight, but they’d slowed it down too much. Added too much “Careless Whisper” flavor to it. Awesome for George Michael, but a little too smooth for him.

In fact…

“Hey, Nicky.”

“Yeah?” Nick swiped at his sweat-soaked hair with a towel.

“What do you think about doing ‘Careless Whisper’ before ‘The Becoming’?”

Nick tipped his head back and laughed. “So, what, you’re George Michael now?”

Simon finished the mug of his heated miracle drug. “No. But come on, that’s some sexy shit. We can do it like Seether did. All rocked out. We’ve done it a million times when we’re fucking around with guitars.”

“Gray,” Nick shouted.

Gray shook off a cup of ice water that he’d poured around his neck and jogged over. “Whew. It is fucking hot.”

“Yeah. Goddamn New York,” Simon said and lifted his cup. “The grass is going to end me.”

“You’re killing it, though. So whatever Harper put in there, you need to mainline that shit.”

Simon shook his head at the drug reference. Gray made them all the damn time and there was always a little sparkle in his eye about it. Fucker. “No shit, man.”

Nick nodded to him. “This guy wants to do ‘Careless Whisper’ before ‘The Becoming’.”

Gray draped his wet towel over his neck. “Really?”

“The Seether version.”

“Oh.” Gray stretched his hand above his head and rolled his shoulder. “That could work.”

“I have a cello piece for that.”

Simon turned to Margo. “Yeah?”

“If I did it all classy and low and then Nick or Gray came in with the huge guitar opener—I think that would punch it up even more.”

“I like it.” Simon waved at Deacon. “Big D, Pix—c’mere.”

Jazz tucked herself under Gray’s arm and stole his towel. She had a babydoll top made from a bra and sparkly sheer material over her belly and hot pink bike shorts. How she made that work, Simon would never know, but it did. Her outfits always did. Give Pix enough time and she’d have a maternity wear clothing line made up, for fuck’s sake.

They argued over the opening and closing of the song for two minutes then they were all rushing up the stairs to do the encore.

The sun was setting along the skyline through the trees and people were screaming for them. On their feet and losing their minds as they all got to their places.

The stage went dark and Margo stood in the diffused light, drawing her bow over her cello in an eerie rendition of the sax parts from the iconic Wham song. Their spot guy, Randy—Harper’s brother—was the most intuitive guy he’d ever seen.

The moody blue lights softened to white at the end before he blinked over to Simon. He kept the opening verse of the song soft and smooth like the original and then Nick and Gray both came up and powerhoused the guitars, Jazz joining in on the drums until the entire arena was screaming.

Simon followed Deacon as he always did. He turned his voice into a growl and forced himself not to tense. The ginger had done its job and relaxed the tickle in his throat.

He stalked across the stage and dropped to his knees in front of the first row as the song ended and they did a medley into “The Becoming”.

By the time they’d finished that song and ended on “The Boys are Back in Town”, the pavilion was completely off their feet and every bit of rehearsal had been worth it.

“Fuck, yeah!” Simon yelled and they all came forward for the bows.

That was the way to do it. They all waved and scattered for backstage. Part of the fan package was a meet and greet afterward. There was a pile of records waiting for everyone that had come.

All three hundred of them would get a signed copy and picture with the band.

Simon ran for the showers and steamed up the whole house. His skin was still slick from sweat and he didn’t want to think about how much bug juice was on him from all the fuckers he’d swatted at.

But he needed it.

And as his vocal chords opened, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was getting the hang of this professional singer shit.

Maybe, just maybe he’d have it all figured out.

He met everyone back at the room they’d corded off to control the crowd. Six huge boxes were lined up behind them. A flag version of his jungle gym archway was tacked up on a huge accordion-style divider.

Lila, being Lila, had a professional photographer there with equipment. And another videographer was following around Jazz.

She’d upgraded from an iPhone to a little handheld camera that indie directors used, for God’s sake. It was unreal how different it was to go from opening act to headliner.

Margo was off to the side, her huge dark eyes taking in everything. So much a part of them and still so separate. At first, he’d pushed to include her, but she seemed to like to be on the fringes.

She wore a sheer long skirted dress that reminded him of a ballerina with tight leggings under it. And over it was a scarlet bit of nothing that matched her fuckable mouth.

Christ.

He forced his eyes away from her.

She was already so different from the woman he’d met in the studio that long ago summer. She smiled more, her shoulders didn’t look so tense, and goddamn if she wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

Lila clapped. “All right, guys. You ready for the first wave?”

“Are we allowed to say no?” Nick asked.

“Um…no.”

Nick gave a gusty sigh. “Then let the games begin.”

The first group of twenty poured in, definitely averaging high on vaginas, but he was glad to see some dudes.

They wrote their songs to cover both sexes, but women were the ones that usually wanted the backstage packages.

He shook out his bracelets and rolled his shoulders as a pair of Barbie dolls headed his way. Ready for vapid squeeing, he was surprised to get a natural smile from the unbelievably pretty sisters.

Maybe it wasn’t going to be such a long night, after all.

“Hi, ladies.”

“That show was so amazing. I can’t believe you guys did that for the fan club. We’re so freaking excited.”

“Well, get in here and get that excitement all over me,” he said with a waggle of eyebrows.

By the time he’d smiled and hugged his last set of fans, he was ready for another shower, and his head was pounding from the mix of perfumes and colognes.

Simon fell into the leather couch they’d stashed against the wall. “Jesus fuck, how many people was that?”

“Three-hundred-and-eight,” Gray answered from across the room.

“How do you do that?”

Gray shrugged. “Just can, man.” Jazz was sitting across from him on the other couch and he was rubbing her feet.

“I’ve got a little something for you guys.” Harper pushed a cart in. “I know the singing types aren’t supposed to do dairy, but they didn’t say anything about Sno-cones.”

Simon laughed as their resident chef scooped shaved ice into little cups and wielded a rainbow of flavors.

Exactly what they needed after the heat of the day and night, he decided as he stood behind Nick and scooped out a handful of ice.

* * *

Margo hid behind the couch that had been pushed into the center of the room like a bunker. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was going to ambush her from behind.

She reached her hand into her bra to scoop out ice. Deacon had already dive-bombed her from above. Damn giant.

She shook her cup but her weapons were low…and melty. A trip to the basin of ice was in order, but Jazz and Gray had teamed up to guard that.

They were ninjas.

“Nick, where are you?” she called out.

“Your six.”

She turned around and saw the ice ball coming her way and ducked just as it slapped into the couch. “And here I was going to play Black Widow to your Hawkeye.”

Nick peeked up from his hiding spot. “Really? Do I get to know what happened in Budapest?”

She aimed and caught him in the neck. “You wish.” She kept her face expressionless as Lila came up behind him.

“You little…” Nick scooted forward to get to the next hiding spot. “I need reinforcements.”

“Nope.” Lila poured a five gallon bucket of water over Nick’s head.

“Cheater,” Nick roared.

“Absolutely,” Margo said and crossed to high five an equally drenched Lila.

“Cheaters never win,” Simon and Deacon shouted and the entire pan of leftover ice came their way.

She and Lila shrieked and crouched.

“Holy shit,” Lila said with chattering teeth. “And to think I was crying about how hot I was an hour ago.”

Margo sluiced water off her face and flipped back her hair. “There will be retribution, boys.”

“Bring it.”

Harper came in with three mops and a bucket. “Enough! I bring you people treats and this is the thanks I get.”

Deacon headed her way with a cup of ice behind his back.

“And if you think that ice is going down your pregnant wife’s back, you will be sleeping alone!”

“Aww, c’mon,” Deacon said.

She pushed a mop into his hands. Turned to Simon and Nick with the other two.

“This is sexist,” Simon said.

“No. This is your mess to clean up. You started it, Simon.”

“I did not.”

Harper’s eyebrow rose. “You were the one who dropped a handful down Nick’s shirt. I saw it. You were the instigator.”

“Dammit.”

“Gray take Pix to get her cleaned up.”

“How come they don’t have to clean up?”

“Because, Pretty Boy, Jazz has been on her feet too long. I got to sit while you guys were doing photo-ops.”

Simon growled.

“Chop, chop.” Harper turned toward the kitchen. She held a finger up. “If I come back in here and you guys left the room a mess, you will never live through my retribution.”

“Would she really be that bad?” Simon asked.

“You don’t even know,” Deacon answered.

Margo helped Lila push the furniture back to where it belonged and collect the leftover fan club memorabilia. “You guys are kind of amazing.”

Lila shook out her wet hair. “We do all right. These guys are still excited about everything. It helps for all the fan stuff.”

“True.”

“So, you’re going to stay with the tour?”

Margo looked up. “I want to. If they’ll have me,” she said on a low voice.

Lila smiled. “No need to whisper. They’re excited. The thing is you have to decide if you’re going to stay with me at the hotel—which I don’t mind—or take the bus with the guys.”

“With Simon and Nick?”

“I doubt you want to take the baby central bus.”

“Um, no.”

Lila grinned. “Didn’t think so.”

The idea of being on the same bus as Simon had her stomach swirling and her head spinning. “Can I take a look at it first?”

“Sure.”

Margo glanced at the three guys mopping. “They look like they actually know what they’re doing.”

“Bars. Lots and lots of bars.”

“That makes sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Lila nodded to the doorway. “Let’s go take a look at testosterone express.”

“I’m probably asking too much for an ounce of privacy.”

“You are correct.” Lila laughed and took the stairs to the side of the venue where the busses were parked. “But it’s a lot nicer than their first bus.”

Margo followed Lila onto the bus. It was huge. The front was fashioned with a chair that she was sure bus drivers in the city would drool over. Then there was a rather large common area that had couches on either side beneath the tinted windows.

Lila pressed in a knob at the front of the bus and revealed a guitar holder and shelving units full of notebooks and pens. There was another holder on the door for another guitar, or maybe one of her violins.

“They do a lot of writing on the road. Passes the time.” She nodded to the bottom shelf. “Simon is forever drawing so be careful if you have your own notebook. He’s a thief.”

Margo laughed. “I’ll remember that.”

“The couches convert to a larger mattress.” She pulled down a hidden handle and slid the couch cushion out like a trundle bed. “I try not to think about what they could possibly do on those things, but it’s usually reserved for extra guests on the bus. A family member coming to visit, that sort of deal.”

Margo’s eyes widened. A groupie banging station. Well, that was a different way to look at things.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Yeah. As I said, don’t think about it too much or you will end up carrying around a can of Lysol.”

“Too late.”

“Kitchenette and microwave.” She opened slim cupboards that were remarkably deep. “Just let me know what kind of thing you want.” She reached up to the top. “This one is a freezer, so you can get little dinners for the long rides.”

“You think of everything.”

“My job.” Lila kept moving. “And back here are the bunks. This bus was outfitted for four, so you can pick up or down.”

“They didn’t spread out?”

Lila shrugged. “They have their rituals.”

She peeked into the bunk. It was plenty big enough to sleep in and long enough for her height. That was something new.

“Bathroom there.”

Margo opened the door, expecting a closet but found a huge glass shower, a commode, and a sink. “Holy crap.”

“Yeah, all the guys ever asked for was a better bathroom, so we went with really nice.”

“I think that’s bigger than my second bathroom in my house.”

Lila laughed. “So there you have it. You can stay with me or with the heathens.”

The idea of rooming with Lila had merit. They got along well and both tended toward the quiet. But if she was on the bus with Simon and Nick, she might be able to see how they wrote together.

Watch the build of a song from the ground up.

She also got the dirty socks and unfortunate bodily functions of males in the con column.

But to be surrounded by music again? A different kind of music?

“I can see it on your face.”

“The music thing.”

Lila nodded. “You’ve got the bug. I can see it. Nick can be a little peckish about sharing when it comes to music, but I bet you can get around him. Simon…he is always scribbling. He had no problem collaborating.”

“It seems like it could be amazing.”

“The only thing I will tell you is…being a woman and knowing what’s going on because I have eyes.”

Margo crossed her arms over her chest.

“Drop the defensive act. We all know you and Simon are…” She waved her hand. “Doing stuff.”

“Great.”

“It’s no big deal. I would just recommend that you keep it off the bus. Things can get hairy and this should be a safe haven for you and for everyone.”

Margo relaxed. “That’s a good idea, actually.”

“I have them.”

“That you do.”

“Okay, let’s go get your stuff from my hotel room and get you settled.”

“Good deal.”

They turned and Simon stood in the doorway. “Ladies.”

“You have a new roommate.”

Simon’s eyes fired then did that slumberous I-just-got-out-of-bed thing and Margo’s skin prickled with goosebumps. Definitely keeping sex off the bus.

“Welcome aboard, Violin Girl.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Hurry back, now. I love bedtime stories.”

“Simon,” Lila warned.

“What?” He grinned.

Keeping sex off the bus was going to require Herculean strength.

Definitely.