Kellen held his phone in his hand, staring at the screen, waiting for Dawn’s call. It was after midnight in Mississippi, but just after ten on the West Coast. He wasn’t sure how long meetings with Hollywood producers took, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t interrupt Dawn’s important dinner, no matter how much his life had turned upside down in the hours since they’d parted.

When his phone dinged with a text message, his breath caught. It was her.

When is rockstar bedtime? Are you still up?

He didn’t bother texting her back, just called. He needed to hear her reassuring voice, because no matter how cool he was playing to the guys, on the inside he was freaking out and he couldn’t even share that with Owen, because Owen had locked himself in the bathroom of their hotel room and was in there talking to Caitlyn or jacking off or slitting his wrists. Who knew?

“You will not believe the night I had,” Dawn said, her excitement and glee tangible even over the phone.

“I had quite the night myself.”

“They want me to co-write the scores for an upcoming fantasy trilogy with Dr. Andrew Everlong.”

Andrew Everlong? Even Kellen knew who he was. Dr. Everlong had come up with the mood-evoking theme music from the Space Trek movies—all nine of them. “Wow,” he said. “That’s huge! Congratulations.”

“I’m not sure I should take the job, though. I won’t be able to see you much if I do.”

There was no way in hell he was standing in the way of that kind of opportunity. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll figure out a way to make us work.”

Especially now that he was probably out of a job.

“And I’m worried that I’ll end up as a ghostwriter of sorts. I do all the work, Everlong takes all the credit.”

“So you didn’t jump on it?”

“No. I want to at least sleep on it. If I take the job, I’ll have to go to Venice next week.”

“Prague, Venice. What’s next, Rome?” He chuckled, his chest swelling with pride. She was so accomplished, yet so down to earth about it. A rare woman. He’d be an idiot to let her go, but an even bigger idiot to stand in her way.

“Maybe. Everlong wants to draw inspiration from centers of renaissance art and culture. I’d rather be inspired by you.”

Yep, a rare woman. She filled him with such hope and longing.

“So how was your show?” she asked.

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” he said. “I want you tell me everything great about this contract they’re offering you. Just the great stuff.”

She shared her list—a long list—of how working with Everlong would be a learning experience. How she’d see a side of composing she wouldn’t get to see any other way. The money was good apparently. Their writing team was all but guaranteed to win awards. She’d meet great, talented stars and see amazing sights and . . . Kellen knew he couldn’t compete with that. And he didn’t want to. He wanted her to reach for her stars.

“Oh,” she said after several minutes of fanning her own flames of excitement. “Pierre will be there too.”

“Pierre?” Why did that name sound familiar? And then he remembered making fun of the name when Dawn had told him about her unhealthy obsession with her music teacher and how he’d rejected her attempts to seduce him. “The Pierre you were in love with as a teenager?”

“Yeah. He’s actually the one who encouraged them to contact me.”

“So you saw him?” Kellen’s hands were sweating. Between this new job opportunity and the potential for her to rekindle an old flame, he was starting to feel that he should discourage her. For his sake. But even the thought was disgustingly selfish of him.

“He was at the dinner, and he encouraged me to sign the contract. He’s started composing too. Actually, he said I was the one who gave him that dream. I didn’t even know he was considering it. And he’s been working with Everlong for a few months now. I think they’re lovers.”

Kellen choked. “What?”

“Yeah, apparently my gaydar is broken. I had no idea Pierre was into men.” She laughed. “Maybe that’s why I never felt threatened by him.”

So Kellen didn’t have to worry about Pierre stealing his girl. At least not romantically.

“And now that you’ve weighed all the positives, what are the negatives?”

He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “This is why I didn’t want to sign that contract until I spoke to you. I knew you’d help me approach it logically.”

“You should probably just follow your heart,” he said, suddenly feeling like an ass for forcing her to see the opportunity as anything less than perfect.

“That’s what Pierre told me, but if I followed my heart, I’d turn this down. My heart wants to follow you.”

A mix of joy and terror swirled through Kellen’s chest. “Would you be okay with me following you instead?”

“I’m not sure if I can wait until your tour is over, Kellen. I miss you so much already.”

“The tour is already over,” he said. “My band broke up.”

Saying the words made it more real, and that panicky feeling he’d been trying to quash before he heard Dawn’s voice began rising again, making it difficult to draw air.

“Wait. I think I heard you wrong,” Dawn said. “Did you just say your band broke up?”

“Yeah. We can’t find Adam. He took off right before we were set to go onstage and didn’t let anyone know where he was going. It was the final straw for Jacob. The rest of us were pretty much in shock when he made us choose between kicking Adam out of the band or him leaving. So he left.”

“I— I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. Do you think you guys can work things out?”

Kellen bit his lip. “I keep saying that, keep telling myself that we can. But deep down I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything right now.” He took a deep breath. “Except you. I’m sure about you, Dawn.”

“I’ll cancel this week’s performance and meet you in . . .  Where are you?”

“No. Don’t do that. Go to Prague. Make grown men weep with the beauty of your music. By the time you get back, I’m sure I’ll have myself sorted out.”

“I feel terrible,” she said. “Everything is going so well for me, and your band is falling apart. I know how important they are to you. Do you want to come to Prague?”

He did want to go to her. Go to Prague. Hold her as tightly as he needed to be held, but . . . 

“We might get this mess sorted out, and I’ll need to be here for the next tour date. I’m sort of stuck at the moment.”

“I wish I could be there with you,” she said.

He wished that too, but didn’t want to make her feel any worse. “I’ll be okay.”

Owen came out of the bathroom, which he’d been using as his personal sanctuary, and Kellen offered him a comforting smile. “I’m going to let you go,” he told Dawn. “You have to be up early for your flight. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“If you need me for anything, call. I might not be able to be there in person, but I’m there in spirit.”

“I know you are. I can feel you.”

After they said their goodbyes, he tucked his phone into his pocket. He patted the sofa beside him, and Owen collapsed into the spot. Owen tilted his head back and rubbed his eyes with one hand as he let loose a lion-size yawn.

“Did you talk to Caitlyn?” Kellen asked, figuring that was what he’d been doing in the bathroom for over an hour.

“Yeah, she’s going to visit soon. Either here or in Austin, depending on what Sally decides to do in the morning. What about Dawn?”

Kellen shrugged. “She’s busy.” And he left it at that. He’d never been one to discuss his girl troubles—or perfection, in Dawn’s case—with anyone. Not even Owen.

“I should probably hit the sheets.”

“It has been a long day.”

“Do you think we’re over?” Owen asked. “The band, I mean. Not us. We’ll always be best friends.”

Kellen wasn’t sure why those words closed around his throat like a fist. For the past few days, he’d felt that Owen was drifting away. That feeling was probably due to their brief separation over the weekend, but something felt different between them, and Kellen couldn’t put his finger on what.

“I don’t know. Jacob was monumentally pissed. I think that anger has been building inside him for a long time. To us, his breaking off from the band might have felt like a sudden, rash decision, but I don’t think that’s the case with him. He’s probably been considering this for a while now.”

“I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach,” Owen said. “I told you earlier that something was wrong, but the feeling hasn’t gone away, even with Jacob taking off. I’m starting to think something truly terrible has happened to Adam.”

Adam being in real trouble would explain why no one had heard from him for hours, but Kellen slapped Owen on the arm and said, “He’s fine. He’s been to hell and back how many times? He can survive anything.”

“He’s always survived because Jacob comes to his rescue.”

That sick feeling Owen described settled in Kellen’s gut as he realized Owen was right.

“Adam has Madison now,” Kellen said, trying to make himself feel better as much as he was hoping to placate Owen’s fears.