I pulled into the parking lot behind Chase’s building, but instead of getting out of the car, I waited to gather my resolve. Exhaustion blanketed me like a thick coat, stifling and oppressive.

After returning from the river yesterday afternoon, and fighting off Beckett’s attempt to comfort me, I fell into a fitful sleep on my couch.

Most people came back from the float with a glowing tan. My parting gifts? Dark circles and frown lines.

I squeezed a couple of drops of Visine in my tired eyes, blinking as the saline tears slid down my nose.

Resigned, I headed for the back door, my steps faltering when I met Bridgette’s gaze across the lot. The bar manager blew out a plume of smoke, tapping her ash into the large standing ashtray.

“Hey, Taryn.” Curiosity piqued her tone. And wariness if I was reading her correctly. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Is Chase around?” I smiled tightly. “I need to pick up something I left in the loft.”

My heart. Or a piece of it anyway. But, I’d settle for my silk blouse and La Perla bra and panty set I threw in his hamper. The price of my “no regret” policy wouldn’t be my favorite lingerie.

Bridgette cocked her head, casually leaning against the doorframe to block my entry. “Does he know you’re coming?”

“Nope. But, feel free to warn him if you’d like.” I reached for the door, looking her in the eyes when her fingers coiled lightly around my forearm. “Look, I don’t care who he has up there. I’m getting my stuff, that’s it.”

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Oh, shit … you think he’s got a girl up there?”

“Laurel lives upstairs, so technically she’s always up there, right?”

“Not anymore. She moved in with Logan.”

“Oh …” I resisted the urge to ask when. It was none of my business.

Bridgette tipped her chin to the older model Mercedes parked askew in the handicapped zone. I noted the personalized license plate on the beat-to-shit bucket of bolts.

Noble 1s.

The Noble Ones. Tyler Noble’s band. He had one hit a million years ago, but he milked it for all it was worth. During one of my surreptitious Google searches, I’d found a bevy of articles on Chase’s dad. The descriptions of the elder Noble were far from flattering.

Arrogant, maniacal, fame whore—and that was from the mainstream press.

Bridgette’s lip curled in disdain. “That’s Chase’s daddy’s ride. The guy is a piece of work. He only comes around to pump Chase for information on Cameron, or pick up a few dollars in spending money.” She took another drag of her smoke, then muttered, “Fucking loser.”

“You know Chase’s family?”

Nodding, she dropped the butt in the ashtray. “Sure.” Smoke swirled from her coral-tinted lips as she pulled her long tresses into a ponytail. “I’ve known Chase since I was in high school. Actually, I’m a friend of Cameron’s. We used to date.” A nervous smile curved her mouth. “Can we keep that part between us? Cameron is engaged to this girl, Lily. I don’t want to end up on the wrong side of that situation. Nothing is going on with Cam and me. But I love my job. The way he feels about Lily? I’d be out of here on my ass if she said the word. Believe.”

“I won’t say anything, but Lily doesn’t seem like the type.” I smiled reassuringly. “I’ve only met her once, though, so I don’t know.”

“She’s sweet, but with Cameron’s past, I don’t want to push my luck. The boy put the ‘whore’ in ‘man-whore.’” Her brow arched. “Know what I mean?”

Bridgette fell for the good-looking bad boy in high school, and look where it got her. She worked in a bar. Granted, she was the manager, and by all accounts seemed very happy, but I couldn’t help but draw similarities to my situation.

I patted her on the arm as I slipped past. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

The door to Chase’s loft was ajar, but I knocked anyway. Hearing no response, I trudged up the staircase, pausing when angry voices spilled into the small space.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me for, Tyler,” Chase said, anger infusing every word. “If Cameron wanted you to know what was going on in his life, he’d tell you.”

A second voice, gravelly with a strong twang replied, “That’s the problem, son. Y’all two are ungrateful sum-bitches, you know that?”

“You do realize that’s my mama you’re insulting?” Chase snarled. “Why don’t you get out of here before I throw you out. Go sleep it off somewhere.”

Tentatively, I climbed the last few steps. From my vantage point below the landing, I could just see into the large space. I caught a glimpse of Chase’s profile as he sat at the grand piano in the alcove, his father hovering behind him.

“I said it’s time to go,” Chase said, tension furrowing his brow. “I’ll have Bridgette call you a cab.”

“A cab?” Tyler snorted. “My big shot son is going to call me a cab. That’s rich. If you would’ve stuck to the plan, you’d have a limo and a driver. Like your brother.” He leaned down and tinkled the keys on the piano. “I guess I bet on the wrong horse. You’ve got twice the talent as that little pisser, but he’s the one on the radio. He really made it. And here you are, living over a bar.”

“My bar,” Chase bit out, rising to his feet. “You know damn well I’ve got more money than Cameron. But it’s not about that, is it? I’m not famous.” Chase’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Do you know how many properties I own around this city, old man? And in Dallas? Hell, I’ve even got a beach house in California. The only thing that Cameron owns is half of this bar and the house I gifted him.”

“Why you reading me your résumé, boy?” Tyler barked out a laugh as he looked up at his son. “You applying for a job or something? Your brother doesn’t need to own anything. He’s living the life. Staying in them five-star hotels, with room service and hot and cold running pussy. I bet—”

I startled when Chase shoved his father out of the way.

“Stay away from him, Tyler.” He paced in a small circle, rubbing the back of his neck. “How much is it going to cost me this time to buy us a little peace?”

“You wound me, son.”

Tyler’s smile widened when Chase sank back onto the piano bench.

“How much, Tyler?” he asked quietly.

“A couple thousand.”

Without a word, Chase walked across the room. Pulling back an oriental rug, he crouched in front of a floor safe.

He looked over his shoulder when Tyler advanced. “Stay the fuck over there,” he snapped. “I don’t trust you.”

Returning to the piano bench, Tyler’s leg bobbed in anticipation. Greed painted his features when Chase pulled out a stack of bills.

A pained expression crept onto Chase’s face as he held the bounty just out of his father’s reach. The old man didn’t notice. He was too enthralled with the money.

“Stay away from Cameron, or I swear to God, I won’t give you another cent.” Chase held tight to the cash even as Tyler tried to pull the stack from his son’s hand. “Are we clear?”

“Always, son.”

With a satisfied smile, Tyler staggered to his feet. He weaved as he made his way to the stairs, holding tightly to the loot.

Chase’s mouth went slack when he saw me. I climbed the last couple of steps, then stood awkwardly on the landing. My gaze shifted to Tyler when he stopped to look me over.

“Hey,” he slurred, the smell of whiskey faintly seeping from his pores when he leaned toward me. “I know you.” He pointed a finger at my face. “I do—I do know you. You’re that record manager I seen in the papers with my boy.” He shot Chase a look. “My other boy. You’re from that company. The one that girl started when her old man got run down.”

Now that Tyler was up close, I noticed the familiar jawline and the similar nose. And those eyes. Tyler’s hazel eyes swam in a sea of red, and they were glassy, but they were Chase’s eyes nonetheless.

My hand went to my stomach as I tried to form a sentence. “I … I’m …”

Chase vaulted across the room, positioning himself in front of the horrible man. “Get out of here right now. Or I’ll throw you out on your ass.”

Tyler whistled and shook his head, ignoring Chase’s warning. “I knew you had some of my blood pumping through those veins.” He lifted a brow. “Looks like they didn’t beat all the sense out of you at that fancy school. Did you finally decide to use some of that God-given talent of yours or is she just warming your sheets?”

Chase grabbed the front of Tyler’s shirt. “You can walk out of here on your own, or I’ll throw you down the fucking stairs.” He lifted his father until they were nose-to-nose. “Your choice.”

“What are you getting so riled up about?” Tyler wheezed. “I’m trying to pay you a compliment, you little shit. That’s good business. Get your girlfriend to line up a couple of gigs. Smart. If I would have hooked up with someone in the business instead of wasting my time with Callie—”

Chase shoved Tyler to the ground. “Ten seconds, fucker. I’m counting. If you’re not gone in ten, I’ll bust your ass.”

Pushing to his feet, Tyler scurried down the stairs, cursing all the way. Chase stomped to the window, his footsteps thundering through the loft.

I closed the distance between us, stopping a foot from where he stood gazing down at the busy street. “Chase …”

Resisting the urge to comfort him for as long as I could, I finally gave in and slipped my arms around his waist. The muscles in his back, knotted and tense beneath his T-shirt, relaxed as my hand skimmed his chest.

Bracing his palm against the glass, he dropped his gaze to the floor. “Sorry about that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

There were so many “its,” I didn’t know where to start.

Chase spun around. And then his hands were in my hair, and his tongue slid between my parted lips. Hitching my leg around his waist, he reversed our positions. I fought for balance, gripping his shoulders.

When he finally pulled away, he said, “Talk is overrated, baby.”

Peeling me off the glass, he walked us to the bed and eased me onto the mattress. Stunned by the sincerity in his hazel eyes, I folded him in my arms. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay …”

It wasn’t. But there was nothing else to say.

After a moment, his fingers found the button on my jeans. Searching my face, he waited for my ascent.

I nodded, my voice too choked with emotion to find any words. He finished undressing me and then stood, shucking off his clothes with a singular focus. Reaching into the nightstand, he took out a condom and then slid it into place.

“Sweet Taryn,” he whispered, easing on top of me. I gasped when he buried himself with one thrust. “So fucking sweet.”

He set a frenzied pace, gripping my thighs as he pulled my legs to his waist.

“Come, baby,” he grunted through ragged breaths. “Please.”

His mouth found mine as I tipped over the edge, spiraling to a place where there was no pain and no regret. For either of us.

I flipped on the light in Chase’s bathroom. Reaching into the hamper, I picked through the mangled heap of discarded towels and cotton T-shirts until I ran across my silk blouse and lace panties. Stuffing the garments into my tote, I tiptoed back into the loft.

A halo of smoke hung above Chase’s head as he sat on the edge of the bed, puffing on a cigarette.

He lifted his gaze, studying me impassively. “I thought you left.” He flicked his ash into a half-empty bottle of beer on the nightstand.

I walked toward the bed, cursing my flawed memory. I had a speech prepared when I got here. But our romp negated most of what I’d intended to say anyway.

“I’m just getting my stuff.” I took a seat on the mattress and, unable to stand the awkward silence, I blurted, “Why did you leave without telling me anything?”

He stared straight ahead. “When?”

I studied his profile. When?

“Yesterday, at the river.”

Blowing out a breath, he shoved to his feet and then stepped into his jeans. “I had something to take care of.” He ambled toward the kitchen without a backward glance. “You want a beer?”

“With Laurel?”

He flopped on the couch. “Yep.”

“You said she came with Logan.”

“And she left with me.”

My stomach fell to the floor. “Bridgette said she moved out. I thought … I thought y’all were just friends.”

Friends … at least.

Pain lanced through me when a smile curved his lips. “I have all kinds of friends, Taryn.”

“I don’t understand.”

He dropped his head against the back of the couch. “I don’t suppose you do. It’s pretty simple, though. Laurel’s a fun girl. No complications. I don’t want to hurt you, Taryn. So it’s better if …”

You don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.

Stepping into my shoes, I forced a smile. It nearly broke me, that smile. “I get it. There’s nothing else to say. See you around, Chase.”

As I said it, I realized it was true. I would see him. Chase would be on the fringe of my life. And if I did my job well, promoting his brother, he’d taint any triumphs with his presence. Excruciating pain spread through me at the thought.

Awkwardly, I gathered my things while he waited, elbows propped on his knees, staring at the ground. He never looked up.

In a daze, I drove the short distance to BlueBonnet Towers, stifling the sobs until I was safe inside my loft. But even there, I felt his presence. I could see the top of his building from every window.

Too much.

With shaking hands, I opened up my laptop. Tears fell on the keyboard as I tapped out an email to Trent, the record producer at Metro.

Change of plans. I want to speak to you in person. I’m flying out tomorrow.