“Who’re the passes for?” I ask Nina, glancing at the table backstage by security.

“Jax has visitors tonight.”

“Annie and Grace are coming?” My heart lifts.

I wish he’d told me, but we haven’t spoken since yesterday in the diner.

I should be pissed at him. He’s being a baby.

But the piece of paper burns a hole in my pocket.

The words on it are evidence that he’s trying. That even if he doesn’t want anyone to know, he hasn’t given up. He’s still trying to create.

A cord wrapped around each arm, I start past the band’s dressing room on my way to meet Jerry at the soundboard.

The silence is strange, and I stick my head in. Every face in the room looks at me.

Or rather they look at Nina, who passes me, her tablet in hand.

It’s not unusual for Jax to be late. But someone else is missing.

“Where’s Mace?” she asks.

A groan from the corner of the room answers her question. The bassist is curled up on a bean bag chair in the fetal position.

“That’s what you get for ordering diner lobster every day for lunch,” Kyle calls, not without sympathy.

“Let me guess. He can’t go on tonight.”

“The front row better have splash guards,” Brick offers.

Nina holds up a hand and swivels to face the wall. I hear her counting backward from a hundred under her breath.

At ninety-six, she turns back with a sigh.

“Fuck it. We have a backup bassist. But we need another vocalist.”

“What about Lita?”

The woman in question is watching me from where she’s perched on the couch, a strange look on her face. “I don’t know the arrangements,” she says slowly.

“Then we’ll have to make do without,” Nina bites out.

“Haley does.”

No one breathes after Lita says those words.

“Not happening.”

I didn’t hear Jax stalk into the room, but his response shuts me down. The finality of it is like a fist squeezing my heart.

“She’s pretty good.” Kyle shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing his head and making his hair fly. “I heard her in KC.”

“No.”

“Can I talk to you?” My gaze cuts from Jax to the bathroom.

“Talk.” Jax ignores my silent request for privacy.

I focus on his stubborn gaze. “I sang four years of choir. I’m no Aretha, but I can do it. If you guys want.” I acknowledge the fact that we’re having this conversation in front of the entire band.

“You want fifteen minutes of fame? Is that what this is about?”

“Jesus, Jax,” Lita murmurs to him.

The hand shoved through the front of his hair is impatient.

I’m hollowed out by the angst, not frustration, I recognize in his face.

My voice softens. “I don’t care about being famous. I’m doing this for you. All of you,” I amend, swallowing.

“Let’s vote,” Kyle chirps from the back of the room. “All in favor of Haley singing backup?” Kyle raises a hand.

Brick too.

Nina watches, unmoving.

Lita moves faster than I’ve ever seen her. “You’re not even in the band,” Jax snaps.

Which doesn’t dissuade her.

Motion from the corner of the room draws our attention. Mace’s hand is lifted half-heartedly.

Then it’s gone, covering his mouth as he rolls off the chair and lurches toward the bathroom.

Jax blows out a long breath.

“Don’t fuck it up, babysitter,” he murmurs.

So, we’re back to that, I want to say. But he’s already turned and left.

I feel as if I’ve won, but my heart’s racing so hard from what I’ve committed to I’m not sure anymore.

Lita approaches. “I’ll help you get ready.”

I go to clear it with Jerry, making sure he has what he needs for tonight. Then I meet Lita at her dressing room.

She passes me black jeans with ripped knees. I shimmy out of my own faded denim and pull them on, wincing as I work on the zipper. “I can’t breathe.”

“They look good. You need a top.” She holds out a leather-looking halter top that has me raising my brows.

“Um, I don’t have a bra for that.” Plus it looks like it’d be as comfortable as wearing a plastic bag.

Duct-taped around your torso.

Under stage lights.

She stares at my chest. “You don’t need one. You have a good body. Show it off a little.”

Sweat breaks out on my neck. “Fine, but I’m keeping the shoes.”

Ten minutes later, I’m sitting in front of the mirror while Lita rummages through a black bag too big to hold just makeup. After a brief showdown, I let her put curlers in my hair, and they tug on my scalp.

Soon my hair’s been pulled out, brushed out, pinned up at one side, and left to fall over one shoulder.

It’s been a long time since I tried to look like something other than me. Serena plays dress up but, aside from lending me outfits, doesn’t try to make me her Barbie. I’ve never really thought about how to boost my looks. Never had a reason to.

The next time I glance in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. After using an ungodly amount of willpower to resist ripping the mascara wand and pencil from her hands, my eyes are lined and sooty, my lashes long and full. Even my brows are more defined. But it’s my mouth I stare at.

“It’s… red.”

“You hate it.”

“I love it.” I hold a finger over my lips, afraid to touch it.

Her hair brushes my cheek as she leans down next to me.

After Lita leaves for her set, I walk out into the hall and find Nina on the phone. She clicks off when she sees me. “Haley. Wow.”

Jax emerges from the other room. “Nina, where the fuck is…”

He trails off as his gaze lands on me. I swear his jaw tightens. His eyes rake down my body, then back up. Linger on my face.

I feel hot all of a sudden despite the air-conditioned hallway.

“Haley!” Kyle calls from the open doorway down the hall, making me jump. “You’re a babe.”

“Thanks.”

He and Brick go to pass us. Brick barely spares me a glance. Kyle grabs for my ass, and I duck out of reach in a well-practiced maneuver.

Then it’s Jax and me.

It’s the first time we’ve been alone since his dressing room. Since he sat next to me, laughed with me, told me his secrets.

Since I betrayed him.

At least, that’s how he saw it.

The intensity of his expression has me looking away. My gaze lands on the table, the two passes that are still there.

My nerves and excitement wane. “Jax. Aren’t Grace and Annie coming?”

That’s when I notice the tension in his shoulders. “Not tonight.” He clears his throat.

In a few minutes, thousands of people will be screaming his name.

At this moment, he looks completely alone.

Ignoring the buzzing in my head, I close the distance between us and throw my arms around his neck.

“Hales,” he murmurs, surprised, and I feel the vibration along my skin.

I think he’s going to push me away, but he doesn’t.

His arms encircle my waist, and he pulls me hard against him.

Jax’s breath warms my neck, and I breathe in his masculine scent.

I want to find Grace and shake her, to ask if she knows how much he worries about her. To ask if she knows how lucky she is to have someone who cares that much.

When I pull back, I swear some of the darkness is gone from his expression. “You look like you needed that.”

He doesn’t answer, but his gaze runs down my outfit again, ending at the floor. “Nice shoes.”

I dig the toe of my Converse into the tile. “Thanks. I wanted something familiar.”

Jax shifts toward the wall, tugging me with him as a tech moves past us with a piece of lighting equipment. His strong hand lingers on my arm for a beat longer than necessary, sending tingles up my spine.

“First time I played a stadium was Madison Square Garden. I’d opened for another group for a year. But when the first album caught? I’d seen hockey games from there, and all of a sudden, I was playing it.”

I shake my head, feeling curls sway at my cheeks. “It must have been a trip.”

His mouth twitches at the corner. “It was a total trip.”

Jax may not have forgiven me, but I feel it again. That realness between us that’s so precious I’m afraid to reach for it in case I tear it like tissue paper.

I hear Lita’s band in the background, echoes of the second song in their set list coming down the hall. My stomach lurches.

“I know you’re supposed to picture the audience naked,” I whisper, “but the only thing scarier than tens of thousands of drunk people is tens of thousands of naked drunk people.”

Jax inclines his head, his hair falling across his face. Maybe he forgot to gel it today, but I like it better like that.

“Do me a favor, Hales.” I don’t know if it’s his rumbling voice or the nickname that sends my pulse skittering.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t ever change.”