Tate and the guys left shortly after to go visit their own families for a few hours before coming back in time for dinner. Usually I helped my mother in the kitchen for big family meals, but she’d convinced my dad to shell out the money to have dinner catered so she could, in her words, “spend time with my kids without having to slave away in the kitchen all night.” My dad, being the sucker for Mom that he was, easily caved.

As soon as the door closed behind them, I’d grabbed my bags and bolted upstairs. I had three hours to primp, and I needed every single one of those minutes if I had any hopes of making Mace see me as more than just a girl.

I’d scoured countless magazines for hair and makeup tips. I used a shimmery bronze shadow that helped bring out the light flecks in my brown eyes, and my long pale blonde hair was curled and hanging in beachy waves over my shoulders and down my back.

Pulling the green dress I’d bought earlier from the bag, I slipped it on and pulled the skirt down past my hips before slipping on a pair of cream-colored platform heels with a rounded toe.

Placing my hand on my flip-flopping belly, I moved toward the mirror hanging on my closet door to check out my handiwork. I looked good. Better than I’d thought I would. And for some reason, that realization made the crazy mosh pit happening in my stomach even stronger.

“What the ever-loving fuck are you wearing?” Will’s voice came from my doorway, causing me to let out a little shriek as I jumped around.

“Jeez, Will. You scared the crap outta me.”

“You about to go to bed or somethin’? ’Cause I know you aren’t actually thinking of wearing that skimpy nightgown downstairs around a bunch of people.”

“It’s not a nightgown,” I snapped, slamming my hands on my hips as I shot him a furious look. “It’s a dress, and there isn’t anything wrong with it. It’s pretty.”

“It’s the tiniest scrap of fabric I’ve ever seen!” he boomed, drawing the attention of both my parents.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Dad asked as he came to join the fray. As soon as he spotted me, his eyes bugged out. “What the fresh hell?”

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” Mom cooed as she pushed past them both and scuttled into my room. She wore a beautiful, shimmery winter white cocktail dress that came to her knees, with a feminine boat neck and cap sleeves. Her hair was in an elegant twist, and she finished the ensemble with a pair of tan kitten heels and my grandmother’s pearls around her neck.

“You look pretty too, Mom.”

“Excuse me!” My father’s voice vibrated through the room. “Am I the only one here who notices my baby girl’s dressed up like a damn streetwalker?”

I let out an offended gasp as Mom snapped, “Jonathan!”

“Nope,” Will gritted. “I’m right there with you, Pop.”

“William Jonathan Tolliver!” Mom cried. She narrowed her eyes fiercely as she glared at the two of them standing in my doorway. “Both of you should be ashamed! Lyla looks lovely.”

“That damn dress is so short it barely covers her ass, Cynthia! No way she’s leaving this room wearing that. I’ll nail the damn door and the window shut!”

“It is not, and you’ll do no such thing!” Mom shouted in return, crossing her arms over her chest and taking that ‘don’t you dare test me’ stance that Will and I had seen her use on Dad so many times over the years.

He threw his arms up in defeat just like he always did. “For crying out loud, Cindy!”

“You can’t expect to keep her in ruffles and bows forever, Jon. Lyla’s not a little girl anymore. She’s almost an adult.”

Dad clutched at his chest dramatically. “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”

Mom’s eyes rolled skyward just as the doorbell rang through the house. “That’ll be the caterers. I’d appreciate it if you’d go let them in while I help Ly finish up here.”

Dad and Will let out similar affronted grunts before stomping away.

When she turned back to me, she was wearing a proud, motherly smile. “I’m thinking a few pieces of gold jewelry will tie your whole outfit together beautifully. What do you say?”

I returned her grin, giddiness filling me to the brim. “I have just the thing.”

* * *

Mace

Being back in the Tolliver house was surreal, to say the least. It had been our home away from home during our childhood, and Cynthia and Jonathan had been our surrogate parents for years, but coming back to this place was like stepping through the looking glass. So much had changed over the past four years that it was like my life had been broken into two parts: Before Fame and After Fame.

The Tollivers were firmly in the BF category, and while being here now felt nice, it was still a little strange. And disconcerting. And really goddamn disturbing, because I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off Lyla since she walked down the stairs in that sexy-as-hell green dress.

Holy shit, she was something else. I hadn’t realized just how grown up she was until then… and damn, had she grown up really fucking well.

I had no goddamn business being drawn to her the way I was. Not only was she jailbait, but the girl was also my best friend’s little sister. That made her off-limits from now until eternity. However, my traitorous dick didn’t seem to be getting the message, because I’d been sporting a half-chub for the past three and a half hours.

“It’s so nice having everyone back under one roof,” Cynthia mused, glancing around the table. “I’ve missed you guys like crazy. Seeing you on TV and in pictures just isn’t the same.”

“We’ve missed you too,” Tate replied, reaching over and taking her hand.

It was no surprise that Tate was thrilled to finally be back in San Francisco. She never said anything, but it was obvious that she’d been having a hard time with their new lifestyle lately, and it wasn’t helping matters that Declan had dived headfirst into the deep end of superstardom. He’d embraced the life with open arms while his girl was struggling to find her place.

“So fill us in on everything,” Cynthia insisted. “What’s new? How is life treating you in LA?”

“LA’s been great,” Killian answered. “It’s different, that’s for sure, but it’s been treating us pretty damn well.”

“The women especially,” Garrett joked, reaching out to give Kill a fist bump. “City’s Heaven on Earth for rich, single dudes.”

“Ugh. Don’t be gross,” Tate chastised with a curled lip.

“Don’t hate, Tater tot,” he replied, giving her a wink. “Mace, Kill, and I are just doing our part to keep the rabid chicks away from your man.”

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes on a laugh. “The three of you are in a competition to see who can pull in the most tail. Don’t pretend it’s for altruistic reasons.”

Lyla’s fork clattered to her plate, drawing everyone’s attention her way. When I looked over, I noticed her face had gone pale. “S-sorry,” she muttered, keeping her honey-colored gaze on the table. “It slipped.”

“How long are you guys in town? Got anything exciting planned?” Jonathan asked, steering the conversation.

“Well, we’re only here for a few days, so we have to try and cram in as much as possible,” Declan answered.

“Only a few days?” Lyla’s voice was crestfallen, and when I glanced back, she looked just as sad as she sounded. “That’s all?”

I found myself speaking without giving a single thought to anything other than wanting to wash the pain from her expression. “I’m sorry, Goldie. We wanted to stay longer, but—”

“Our manager, Chris Evers, hooked us up with a killer gig playing in Time Square on New Year’s Eve,” Declan butted in, his tone brimming with excitement. “There are a couple things we have to take care of back home before flying to New York, so we have to head out the day after Christmas. We might not be here, but at least you’ll be able to watch us play live.”

Lyla pasted a fake smile on her face that twisted my gut into knots.

“Yeah,” she whispered softly. “At least there’s that.”

Something told me that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and the fake sincerity in her voice drove that point home.

I wasn’t sure why I was having such an intense reaction to her mood or behavior, but I needed to get a fucking handle on myself before it got too out of hand.

* * *

Lyla

Well that just sucks.

He was leaving in three days. Leaving me once again to go back to LA and all those available women who made being single so freaking wonderful. It was enough to make me nauseous.

When dinner finally came to an end, I quickly offered to clear the table and take care of the dishes while everyone else visited in the living room. I needed some space to get my head together. I thought I’d have more time with them. With him.

Christmas Eve was tomorrow. Then they’d all spend Christmas day with their families. I barely had time to get the courage to do what I needed to do.

“Hey, girly. Need some help?”

I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Tate. I’d been getting a strange vibe from her all evening long, and I needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and be a good friend. “I got this under control, but feel free to hang around and keep me company.”

She didn’t hesitate to hop up on the counter next to me and grab the hand towel I had waiting. “How about you wash and I dry?”

“Sounds good to me.” I handed her the wineglass I’d just washed and started on another. “So… you wanna tell me what’s up with you?”

She refused to meet my eyes as she scrubbed at the glass so furiously I worried it would break in her hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” I gave her a look that spoke to how full of crap I thought she was. “Is that why I saw you flinch when Deck called LA home? Or why you’ve been faking happiness all night long?”

“I haven’t been faking—”

“You forget how well I know you? You might’ve been able to hide it from me over the phone or through text, but I can see it in your eyes now. Something’s not right. I’m not gonna force you to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just wanted you to know I’m here if you do.”

She finally put the glass down, and I breathed a sigh of relief that there wouldn’t be any bloodshed or emergency room visits tonight. “It’s… not how I thought it would be,” she admitted. “He’s not how I thought he would be.”

I passed her another glass and grabbed a plate to scrub next. “How do you mean?”

Her gaze stayed averted the entire time she spoke, like she was too afraid to look at me as she gave voice to what was bothering her. “Deck’s changing, Ly. Right in front of my eyes, and I don’t have a clue how to get the guy I fell in love with back.”

Dropping the dish back into the sudsy water, I stopped what I was doing and turned to face her. “Is he that bad? I mean, I’ve seen a couple stories online, but—”

“It’s like all he gives a damn about is being famous.” Even though she wouldn’t meet my eyes, I could still see hers glistening with unshed tears. “Music used to be something that brought us together. Now I feel like he cares about it more than he does me.”

“Oh, honey.” I grabbed the cloth from her and quickly dried my hands so I could wrap her in a hug. “I’m sure that’s not true. Deck’s crazy about you. He’s always been crazy about you. You’re just going through a rough time, but you guys will get through it. I don’t have a single doubt. You’re perfect together.”

She looked up at me with a sad, defeated smile. “Just because something seems perfect from the outside doesn’t mean it really is.”

As I hugged her tight, all I could do was pray that she was wrong. Because if two people as in love as Tate and Declan couldn’t make it, there wasn’t a single shred of hope for me.