Backstage was a total clusterfuck. Everyone was hurrying around, the production crew loading out and everyone else scrambling to get the hell out of the way of the band because, apparently, they’d all heard what happened in there and probably expected us to be breaking shit on our way out.

I saw Zane talking to Jude and Brody, but I didn’t go near them. Maggie and Liv and Joanie all converged on me as I was beelining down the hall, but I shut them down with a raised hand.

“No one gets in,” I told Joanie, and disappeared into my dressing room.

It was a storage room with metal shelving that housed bar stock—drink mixes and jars of olives—but they’d made it work for me, shoving everything up against the walls and bringing in a dressing table with a full-length mirror, portable lights, and a couple of wardrobe racks. I dropped into the chair at the table with a sigh. God, I just needed a minute alone to—

The door opened and Ash stepped in. I spun around to face him, but before I could get my mouth open, Joanie popped her head in behind him. “I… uh… assumed you didn’t mean Ash.”

Ash raised an eyebrow at me and I managed a half-smile. “It’s okay,” I told her, though it wasn’t. Just because Joanie had figured out that I was screwing Ash—on occasion—didn’t mean he got access to the inner sanctum anytime he felt like it.

I’d have to talk to her about it. Later.

She left, shutting the door and leaving me alone with Ash. When I met his eyes, he gave me an expectant look.

It was a look he’d been giving me a lot lately.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

I assumed he was being sarcastic, since he’d been in the room until Brody kicked everyone out; he’d been there when Seth got bounced.

“Awesome,” I said, equally sarcastic.

He came over and reached for me, drawing me up out of the chair. “I know you guys are struggling to find someone, but you’ll find someone. And, hey, if nothing works out…” He slipped his arms around me, gathering me close. “You can always hire me.” He hit me with his charming smile, and I felt myself stiffen.

It wasn’t the first time he’d said that.

The last few months, Ash had started dropping hints—at least, to me—about joining Dirty. And it wasn’t that he wasn’t talented enough. But in the past, we’d never even considered Ash, since he had his own band. He was lead singer of the Penny Pushers, and while the Pushers weren’t as big as Dirty, they’d been together a long time and Ash was their frontman. It never occurred to us that he’d actually consider leaving them to play rhythm guitar with us.

The thing was, now that I was sleeping with him, I’d never agree to let him join Dirty.

But how could I tell him that?

I just hoped and prayed he didn’t take the idea to Dylan. Because if Dylan got all excited about it and brought it to the band that Ash wanted in, and I said no, it would just get awkward. Everyone would demand to know why I was saying no.

And then I’d have to say something stupid, in front of everyone—in front of Jesse—about how I’d started sleeping with Ash to make myself feel better, when Jesse married Katie, even though I had no intention of actually being his girl… and now he was sniffing around to make me his girl… and he could never join Dirty because of my horny impulses.

Fucking embarrassing.

Not to mention everyone might be pissed at me for ruining our shot at an actually brilliant option for our new guitarist.

I could only hope Ash had thought that all through and planned to keep his mouth shut about it.

“Ash…” I started, not even sure what to say. How could I tell him not to say anything to the guys, not to ever ask them if he could join the band? He’d get mad. I knew that now. He’d take it as an insult; professional and personal rejection. Because for a while now, Ash had been trying to turn this thing between us into something it wasn’t.

At least, for me it wasn’t.

“Babe,” he said, his blue eyes searching mine and his hands sliding down my back, “I’m just kidding.”

But just like when he’d first offered to sleep with me to help me get over Jesse—Friends with benefits, he’d said—we both knew he wasn’t kidding.

His hands slid down over my ass and squeezed gently. Then he moved in for a kiss, and I let him. He brushed his lips against mine, and when I closed my eyes, he tilted his head and went in deeper. The kiss was warm and demanding, and I sighed softly as his tongue slid between my lips.

Then his tongue piercing swept over my tongue, and I felt tingles at the back of my neck. Not the kind of sweeping, all-over tingles I’d felt the first time he kissed me—in the dark, out in the woods, the night of Jesse’s wedding—but still… for a moment, I gave in to it. I was only female, after all.

And Ash was just so… hot.

He was the only man I’d had sex with in a long, long time… and it just so happened that he was really, really good at kissing.

And fucking.

As I kissed him back, he groaned and gripped my hips, pulling me against him and pressing his solid length against me; his cock, hard and eager in his jeans, jabbed against my groin. I felt the answering surge of lust in my own body, deep in my belly, between my legs. And for the first time ever, it felt off-putting. Alarming, somehow.

Uncomfortable.

I pulled away.

He tried to kiss me again, but I dodged, twisting out of his grip. His hands fell away. His blue eyes were hazed up with desire, but there was concern there, too.

“You okay?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not okay. Seth just auditioned to join Dirty.”

He shoved his hands in his back pockets and looked weirdly guilty. “Yeah.”

I crossed my arms and drew back, studying him, as it dawned on me; I didn’t think he could see the guitarists auditioning beyond the screen, but… “Did you know it was him up there?”

“Yeah.”

“You could’ve said something.”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly. “You pissed at me?”

“No. Of course not.” Though I kind of was. Unjustly.

He looked around the room at my things, like they’d somehow tell him something I wasn’t saying. He glanced at my giant Givenchy tote purse, the one I always traveled with. “You still going to Hawaii?”

“Yes.” Why wouldn’t I be going?

“You know…” he said, still looking around, suddenly fascinated with a trash can in the corner, “… I have a couple of days before I have to be back in Vancouver.”

Oh, God. Please, don’t say it…

“I could come with you.”

“Oh.”

He lifted his blue eyes to meet mine.

“I just… I need some time with Joanie, Ash. I told her… we’re going to go over my schedule and get organized, and…” I trailed off, because as much as Ash might be trying to kid himself there was more between us than there really was, he wasn’t dense. All I’d talked about for months was how badly I needed some time off, and now I was making excuses about Joanie and I needing time to work?

But it just didn’t seem cool to say, I need some time to lay around on the beach in a bikini and drink cocktails, and I don’t want to do that with you.

“Okay,” he said, his eyes tightening a bit. He knew I was making excuses. “You wanna grab some dinner before you go?”

“No. Thanks. I already ate a bit. And I’ll eat on the way.”

“You’re pissed at me,” he said. This time, it wasn’t a question.

“I don’t know,” I said, my agitation with both him and myself growing. “You should’ve said something, Ash.”

“Why? You wouldn’t have let him play?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not your call.”

“No. It was Liv’s call. But if it was up to me, I’d let him play.”

“Ash—”

“He’s Seth Brothers,” he said, as if I didn’t know.

I turned away.

I didn’t expect him to understand. I didn’t expect anyone to understand, really.

No one else was there when Brody alluded to what happened between Seth and Jessa. Just the band, Jude and Maggie. We’d never said, publicly, why Seth was dismissed from the band—again.

The truth was, we didn’t really know. Brody and Jesse had more or less decided it was so, and no one else really wanted to argue with Brody or Jesse when it came to Jessa. Dylan didn’t have that kind of fight in him, and at the time, I didn’t have it in me to challenge Jesse. I could barely be in a room with him if we weren’t playing music. Whenever the music stopped, I was gone. I’d only recently begun to hang around for any more than that, and mostly because of my contractual obligation to the documentary series.

Zane had tried to argue, at first, but it was clear Jesse wasn’t having it. He wasn’t having Seth in the band anymore. And from the look on Brody’s face when he’d attacked Seth at the church, Seth had been lucky he’d only been fired, and not worse.

I really would’ve killed him…

That’s what Brody said as I held him, bleeding, just before he puked and passed out from the concussion he’d gotten, hitting his head on an amp while he and Seth struggled.

So much animosity. Over Jessa.

And I still didn’t understand why.

I’d asked Jessa myself, a few months ago. After the dust had seemed to settle and she and Brody were all blissed out on being in love, I’d asked her point blank if she’d asked Brody and Jesse to kick Seth out of the band—and she said no. She told me, actually, that she felt bad Seth had cleared out without any kind of fight.

Which made two of us.

And I knew for a fact, as of today, that Zane would agree.

So why were Brody and Jesse still dead set against Seth, as if they were protecting her from him?

“Hey.” Ash slipped his hands around my waist and pressed up against my backside. “I’m sorry. Maybe whatever’s going on between you guys and Seth is worse than I thought. I guess when I saw him backstage, I just got excited. Like if he had the balls to show up here he must really want back with the band, and maybe you guys would want to see that. I don’t know.” He kissed my neck and I pulled away without even thinking about it. I turned to him.

“Ash… I really can’t talk about this right now.”

It was true, but mostly I just couldn’t talk about this with him. It was Dirty stuff, and Ash wasn’t part of Dirty.

Thanks to me, he never would be, and that just made me feel shitty. Because if anyone had told me, back before I got naked with him, that Ash was willing to leave the Pushers for Dirty, I might’ve been thrilled.

“Can you just give me some space on this?” I asked him. I could barely look at him, much less take his kisses like I deserved them right now. Not only did I feel shitty about—quite literally—screwing him out of a chance to join Dirty, I felt even shittier about what just happened with Seth. Ash was right. If he had the balls to show up here he must really want back with the band.

And why would he do that if he felt the least bit guilty about whatever happened between him and Jessa in the past?

“Sure.” Ash said. “Of course.” He was still hovering, though. “You want me to wait for you outside?”

“No, thanks. I don’t know how long I’ll be. I need to talk to the guys.”

And with that, Ash went silent. It was a dark, cold silence.

Then: “Jesse already left. With Katie.”

And there it was.

Ash was always here to remind me, in any way possible, that Jesse was with his wife. As if he was making sure I wasn’t going to do anything stupid—like fall for Jesse again.

“Ash… I just need some time, okay?”

He nodded, grudgingly. He took a step toward me, but it was hesitant. He kept staring at me like he was waiting for me to say something else, but I didn’t.

Then he leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. “Call me when you land? So I know you’re okay.”

“Sure.”

I watched him leave, then exhaled. When did we get here? Ash, worrying about me? Wanting me to call him when I got wherever I was going and check in?

I gathered my small personal items from the room, some makeup and my phone, and shoved them into my tote. Joanie would arrange for the rest—clothes and shoes, and flowers people had sent for me—to be packed up and taken to my house. At least Ash hadn’t sent flowers; they were from my publicist and the record company and my girlfriend, Summer.

I waited a few minutes to be sure Ash had cleared out before emerging from the room, all the while wondering, when did we get here? Me, hiding out, to avoid Ash?

God. What a shit show.

I knew I was gonna have to deal with him. He was starting to act like a possessive boyfriend, when I didn’t particularly want a boyfriend.

And even if I did… I definitely didn’t want him to be Ashley Player.

Ash was great—as a friend. And as a friend with benefits—yeah. He was super fucking hot. He definitely knew what to do with his pierced tongue and his pierced dick.

He was not, however, boyfriend material.

Though I probably should’ve thought of that before I fucked him.

It wasn’t like I didn’t know, from the very start, that this whole “friends with benefits” deal was a bad idea.