Glancing at the clock in the dressing room at the Parish, I checked the time and then turned my attention back to my lyrics. I’d been writing like a demon since Lily and I got together. I had enough material for two albums. It was a good variety. Sad stuff from the six weeks we were apart, and a bunch of soulful ballads.

Now the band just needed to work out a deal with our label. Metro had come to us with a bullshit offer, which we’d declined, and now we were in a holding pattern. Without a manager to negotiate for us, the other labels hadn’t thrown their hats into the ring.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t sweating it. Lily and I were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship. I didn’t want to leave her to go out to LA and record an album. And after four years of touring, the band needed the time off. I was happy and content playing our weekly gig at Chase’s club on Sixth. For the moment, anyway.

Logan barreled through the door. “You’ll never guess who’s here,” he said, rubbing his hands together feverishly. “Dylan Boothe and Beckett Brennin. Front row.”

Sean crashed through the door with Christian hot on his heels. “Guess who’s here?”

“Dylan and Beckett,” I deadpanned, trying to hide my smile when his face fell.

Dylan Boothe and Beckett Brennin were the lead singers for Leveraged—the biggest band in the country. They hailed from Austin, and were one-third of the Big Three—the powerhouse trio of bands from our city. Titans in the industry, they dominated the charts and sold out venues all over the world.

Sean grabbed a beer from the bucket on the table and twisted off the cap. “What do you think they’re doing here? And where’s the rest of the crew?”

We knew every member of the Big Three, but not well. All twelve members still resided in Austin. Still frequented the clubs and dive bars. And every one of the bands had played the Parish. But that was before my brother bought the club. So it’s not like we rubbed elbows with any of them frequently.

Chewing on the pen I was holding, I reclined against the couch cushions. “They’re not touring right now.”

“I’m surprised Tori let them stray that far from home base,” Logan said, motioning for me to throw him a beer. “She keeps pretty close tabs on them. I don’t know how they can stand it, letting their manager call all the shots.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the way it always did when someone spoke about Tori Grayson. Her band, Damaged, was the first band out of Austin in two decades to hit it big. Huge. Tragically, they were cut down at the height of their fame. A freak bus accident took the life of Rhenn Grayson, Tori’s husband and the genius front man for Damaged, and Paige Dawson, her best friend and their lead guitarist. Tori almost died in the accident. But after she recovered, she formed Twin Souls Management with her other best friend, Taryn Ayers. Logan and I had been trying to get one or both of them to return our calls for weeks with no luck.

Logan sighed. “I know Tori’s not a ‘regular’ manager; but she’s not performing anymore. I had to do a double take when I saw her in the paper a couple weeks ago. She was wearing a suit. I mean, it was a chick suit, and she looked pretty fucking hot, but it was still a suit.”

“Dude.” Sean shook his head incredulously. “You know why she doesn’t perform. Have a little empathy.”

“Who cares how she looks—it’s a miracle she’s still breathing,” Christian added quietly. “She broke nearly every bone in her body.” Wincing, he reached reflexively for his side. The injury was slow to heal, taking a month before he was able to walk around without taping his ribs. And he was only in the hospital overnight. Tori had been in a rehab center for months after the accident.

Looking at the clock above the door, I felt the band around my chest tighten. Lily was on the road, making the two-hundred-mile trip from Dallas. Her mom still hadn’t come around, but Marcus was making an effort. Lily refused his offers to fly her to Dallas on the Tennison’s private jet when she visited. And even though she drove a safe car, and the roads where good, the thought of her bleeding or broken from an accident turned my blood to ice water.

Logan read my expression, his brow furrowing. “Lily’s not back yet?”

I glanced at the clock again. “She’s on her way.”

Sean stood up to grab a beer, nodding toward my phone. “Call her.”

The guys loved Lily almost as much as I did.

“Yeah, I think I will.“ I said, swiping my finger over the screen. My leg bobbed as I waited for her to answer. One ring. Three. The band around my heart loosened when she finally picked up.

“Hey, baby!” I shouted, barely able to hear myself think over the blast of music in the background.

“What are you yelling at, Cam?” she asked, the amusement in her tone evident when she turned down the volume.

The guys sipped their beers, taking in the floorshow. Since girls weren’t allowed in the dressing room any longer, this was the only entertainment they got.

“Nothing.” Raising my brows at them, I put my index finger to my lips. “Where are you?”

She let out a sigh. “We go through this all the time. If I tell you where I’m at, you’re going to start worrying. And if I hit traffic, you’ll be distracted when you go onstage. I’ll be there in a little while. You know I wouldn’t miss tonight.”

Tonight… our four month anniversary. The nerves twisting my gut kicked into overdrive.

“Okay. Be careful.”

“I will.” I was about to hang up when she said, “I love you.”

It never got old. Not the first time she’d said it, and not now.

“I love you too, baby. So damn much.”

“I love you, Lily. So much,” Logan mimicked me in a high-pitched voice, making smacking noises as he leaned toward the phone. He jumped back when I jerked the beer bottle I was holding, spewing suds on his vintage Pearl Jam t-shirt.

“Asshole,” he muttered.

Lily cracked up. “Be nice. I’ll see you soon.”

The call ended, and I looked down at her picture on my phone. She was it for me. Everything. All the things.

Three loud raps on the door brought me back to the present. Moving to the door, Logan looked over his shoulder at me. I raised a brow in warning.

“I know, you big pussy,” he groused, leveling me with a glare as he pulled the door open. “No chicks in the dressing room.”

“Well, I’m in the clear,” Dylan Boothe said as he sauntered in, an easy smile on his face, “since I don’t have a vagina.” He turned and looked at Beckett who was a step behind. “Better wait outside, Becks.”

The room burst into a fit of raucous laughter.

“Very funny, asshat.” Beckett chuckled.

Sean reached into the metal ice bucket, offering the guys a beer. They took the bottles gratefully, surveying the dressing room.

Dylan leaned against the wall. “Sweet setup you guys got here. I wouldn’t mind spending a few weeks at home.”

“I wouldn’t mind selling out a few of those arenas,” Logan retorted. “But we needed a break. Why are you guys in town?”

“Eh, Tori called a meeting.” Dylan shrugged, letting his eyes drift around the dressing room. “She’s announcing a big tour for next year. Big Three, charity events, the whole fucking circus.”

The tour would be major if the Big Three were involved.

“That sounds epic,” I said and, taking a sip of my beer, I glanced at the clock. Again.

“Are y’all touring soon?” Dylan asked, looking confused when my bandmates turned to me.

“What are y’all looking at me for?” I scowled at my bandmates. “I’m not the one that books the tours. And I didn’t fire our manager.”

“Hey!” Logan protested. “I was standing up for your girl, man. Remember?”

He was right. And as I’d predicted, he’d taken all the heat.

“You know, I could talk to Taryn for you,” Dylan offered. “She might be able to solve your management issue. No promises though.”

“Taryn?” Crossing his arms, Logan waited for Dylan to elaborate. “I thought y’all were exclusive with Tori?”

Dylan took a sip of his beer. “Taryn handles the talent. She took care of Damaged… before… you know… the thing.” As much as we were rocked by the tragedy, it paled in comparison to what Dylan and Beckett felt. They were at ground zero. Part of Rhenn Grayson’s posse. Childhood best friends. Leveraged had toured with Damaged since the beginning.

“And Taryn’s always managed us,” Beckett added. “Since she’s my girl.”

“Was your girl,” Dylan said quietly, drawing a scowl from Beckett.

I bit down a smile. I didn’t have a beef with Beckett personally, but we were rivals when it came to the music. He did most of the writing and arranging, the same way I did for Caged. And the boy could shred a guitar.

“Anyway.” Dropping his bottle in the metal trashcan, Dylan turned to Logan. “I’ll talk to Taryn about y’all. She’s got a lot going on right now. If you guys aren’t in a big rush, signing with Twin Souls is worth the wait.”

We all nodded when Dylan’s gaze swept the room to get our buy in. Signing with Twin Souls was definitely worth the wait. But I wasn’t holding my breath. We weren’t going to get saddled with some junior manager, even if it was at the most sought-after management company in the country. Tori was notorious for turning down any band that directly competed with the Big Three.

Logan patted Dylan on the back “Thanks, man. We’d really appreciate the good word.”

“No problem.” He motioned to Beckett, who pushed to his feet. “We’ll let y’all get ready. Think of this as an audition.” He pulled open the door. “I might record a little something- something to show Taryn.”

Lifting my chin to them, I smiled nervously. The other guys did the same.

Logan’s laugh died the minute he closed the door.

“We can’t suck,” he said as he leaned against the wall, his face losing a little color. “We absolutely can’t suck.”

The door creaked open, and my heart jumped into my throat.

“You never suck, Logan,” Lily said, patting him on the arm as she walked toward me.

All the tension left my body when I heard her voice. Time slowed down, and everything inside me stilled at her kiss.

“Hey, you,” I breathed, easing her onto my lap.

Christian groaned. “That’s our cue,” he said, smiling at us as he headed for the door.

“See you after the show, Lily,” Sean said, following Christian into the hall.

“No screwing on the couch. We all have to use it,” Logan said with a snort as he pulled the door closed behind him. It popped open a second later, and he peeked his head inside. “Glad you’re here, darlin’.”

“Thanks,” I said, waggling my brows.

He scowled at me when Lily cracked up. And then he was gone. And there was only her. My mouth claimed hers as I eased her onto her back on the sofa. When my hand slid to her breast, tugging at her bra, Lily tipped her head back.

“What’s your hurry?” she cooed.

It was probably then, when she’d stilled my heart with that phrase the first time we were together, that I fell in love with her. Or maybe it was before. Like I said in the song I wrote her—In a time before time, you were mine. And it was true. She’d always been mine. We were fated to find each other.

“No hurry, baby.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “Although, I was hoping for a little action before the show.”

Grinding my hips against hers, I slid my tongue along her bottom lip.

“Later.” She shoved at my chest. “You’ve got a show to do. And from what I gather, it’s really important.”

Nodding, I sat up. There was only one thing more important. But given Dylan and Beckett’s presence, all my plans might fall by the wayside if everyone decided to go out after the gig.

Do it now.

Lily got up to grab a drink from the fridge, while I fumbled to get the small box out of my pocket.

“You want something?” she asked, and when I didn’t answer she turned to me. “Shiner, or—?”

Her mouth fell open when she found me on one knee. “I do want something. I want you, Lily. I know it’s only been four months. But four seems to work for us. And I don’t care if you want a long engagement and a big wedding. Or if you want to run to the courthouse tomorrow and just get it over with, I want to marry you.”

Catching her around the waist when she wobbled, I pulled her against me and searched her face. There was no crinkle on her brow. No clouds to mar the perfect blue in her eyes. No hesitation.

“Of c-course I’ll marry you. I love you, Cameron.”

Before she could say another word, my mouth was on hers, swallowing her giggles and the moans that followed.

The cheers from the audience began to shake the walls. That was my cue. The opening act was finished. Time for the main event.

I swung my truck into a parking space at Hut’s Burgers and then glanced at Logan in the passenger seat. He shot me a wide smile, his face half-hidden under the black Batman mask we’d picked up at Party City on the way here. 

“You look fucking ridiculous,” I said, dropping my gaze to his tattered jeans and long-sleeved “roadie” T-shirt. “That’s not even a costume.”

“Is too,” Logan retorted, pulling down the visor to check his reflection. “I’m Batman.”

Even under the stupid mask, I could tell he was waggling his brows. 

“No,” I pushed the door open to my truck and shot back, “you’re a moron in a black mask.”

Falling into step beside me as we crossed the parking lot, he tugged the sleeves down on his shirt to cover his signature tattoos.

“Look, it’s Halloween,” he whined. “You told me we could stop and get some grub if I didn’t draw attention to myself.” Smiling, he motioned to his mask. “Done.”

Pausing as we passed a group dressed like the entire cast from Star Wars, Logan ogled the chick in the gold bikini with her hair wrapped in tight buns around her ears. 

“Princess Leia.” He nodded appreciatively. “You look hot. You want to visit the ‘bat cave’?”

You want to visit the bat cave? Seriously?

If anyone else used a line like that, they’d get their ass handed to them. But not Logan. Even with half of his face covered, that cocky grin of his got the girl to stop in her tracks. Since I wasn’t wearing a costume, and my face was nearly as recognizable, I stared down at my boots and didn’t make eye contact with the chick.  

Leia pulled out of her trance and shuffled closer to the guy in the Luke Skywalker costume. “I don’t go out with bats.” She sniffed. “Sorry.”

From the way her eyes raked over Logan’s lean frame, she was sorry. Sorry that her boyfriend was there.

“But you date your brother?” Logan retorted, shifting his amused gaze to the guy at her side. “You do know that Princess Leia and Luke are brother and sister?”

He laughed when the couple shifted uncomfortably at the revelation.

Tugging his sleeve, I grumbled, “Dude, let’s go. I’m not going to debate fictitious genealogy with these two.” 

Shaking my head, I wandered toward the packed restaurant, hoping like hell Logan was behind me. With those long legs of his, he passed me a couple seconds later.

“Get the stick out of your ass, Wikipedia,” he chided, holding the door open for me. “You’re ruining my fun.”

“This isn’t smart.” Following him inside, I gazed over all the crowded tables. “This place is balls to the walls.”

“You should have worn a costume if you were worried about it.”

I bumped into his back when he slowed to a snail’s pace to gawk at a booth full of girls clad in tight tank tops and cut-offs. A smile tugged his lips as he admired a sexy brunette.

Twirling her hair around her finger, she cocked her head as she tried to place him. Her eyes drifted over his shoulder to the dirty window where the billboard for our band was clearly visible across the street.

When I saw the glint of recognition on the chick’s face, I nudged him toward the counter.

“Keep walking,” I hissed. 

Reluctantly, he did as I asked.

“Relax, Wikipedia,” he said, taking his place behind a line of patrons waiting to place their orders. “You look like you’re chewing on a turd. Maybe that’s why you don’t get laid.”

Ignoring him, I picked up a worn menu from the counter. “Yeah, that gets me in the mood to enjoy this mystery meat you insist on eating.”

He rocked back on his heels. “You can look all day long.” His grin widened. “None of those double-meat burgers are going to turn into a salad.”

Hut’s did, in fact, have salads. And at any other burger joint that’s what I’d be ordering. But I wasn’t going to pass up a golden opportunity to sink my teeth into a Big Bopper. Not that Logan needed to know that.

He narrowed his eyes while I pretended to weigh my options.

“Next!”

He swung his gaze to the impatient voice and then sauntered to the register.

Placing his order, he flirted shamelessly with the cute little waitress wearing Minnie Mouse ears.

She barely spared him a glance as she shoved the tray in his hand.

Logan looked at me feigning a shiver. “Brrr,” he mouthed, giving the angry little mouse a once over before ambling away to stake out a table. 

Chuckling, I took my place in front of Minnie. It was rare that women didn’t notice Logan. He had a knack for attracting pretty girls, even before he was famous. And this girl was definitely pretty. Tousled blond hair fell in waves around her shoulders. And even though she was wearing a boxy Hut’s T-shirt, I could see the outline of her magnificent rack hidden beneath the loose fitting, cotton fabric.

When she lifted her gaze, piercing green eyes fringed with heavy lashes bore into mine.

“What can I get you?” Her fingers hovered over the keys on the register, a scowl tugging the corners of her pouty lips.  

“I’ll take a Big Bopper with cheddar cheese. Make it a combo.”

She sighed as she tapped in my order. “Fries or onion rings?”

“Neither.” Giving her my most genuine smile, I reached for my wallet. “But could you make the bun gluten-free?”

Her skeptical green eyes wandered over my long hair and day old scruff. “That’s a buck-fifty extra.”

Judgmental much? 

“Not a problem, Minnie.” Chuckling, I zeroed in on the little triangle of black paint on the tip of her button nose. “I can afford it.”  

“Not saying you can’t.” She shrugged and handed me a paper cup. “But I’d be more worried about the heart attack on a plate than whether it was served gluten-free.” 

“Mel!” A woman shuffled out from behind the grill, wiping her hands on the fur of her grease-stained bunny costume. “What have I told you about your attitude? I don’t care how tired you are, you don’t take your bad mood out on the customers.”

The bunny turned to me with a forced smile while Mel looked down at her toes.

“I’m Patty, the manager here. I apologize for Mel, she’s a little . . .” Blinking, her gaze shifted to the picture of our band in a spot of honor on the Hut’s “Wall of Fame.” She swallowed hard, color rising in her cheeks. “Are you Christian Sears?” 

“Nope.” Smiling, I threw her a wink. “But I guess I nailed my Halloween costume.” 

Patty smirked, swinging her awestruck gaze to Logan, huddled in a booth a few yards away. “Tell Batman I’m a huge fan,” she gushed, tossing some napkins and a straw on my tray. “I caught one of your shows at the Parish a couple months ago.” 

“We appreciate that. Glad you enjoyed yourself.”

She brushed my arm aside as I tried to hand Mel my credit card.

“On the house.” Patty cut her eyes to Mel, consternation furrowing her brow. “For your trouble.” 

Mel winced, snaring her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“It’s fine, really. Mel here was just giving me a hard time.” I grinned at the cute little mouse, hoping she’d play along. She shot me a glower for my trouble.

“I insist,” Patty said, shooing me away with a smile. “We’ll have your food right out. Happy Halloween.”

She whispered something into Mel’s ear and then stalked away. Mel’s green eyes met mine for a second before she followed her boss behind the industrial grill. My stomach sank when Patty shook a finger in Mel’s face, her voice rising over the sizzle of the burgers and fries.

A bubbly redhead darted to the counter, her ponytail swinging behind her. “Is there something else I can get you?” She peeked at the customers impatiently rumbling in a line behind me.

Tearing my gaze from Mel, who was now defending herself, loudly, I shook my head. “Um, no thanks. I’m good.” 

After filling my drink at the soda fountain, I joined Logan at our table. I scowled at his grin as I slid into the booth. “What?”

“Don’t get all pissy with me. I’m not the one who blew our cover.” He popped a fry in his mouth. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Whatever.”

Reclining against the cracked vinyl, I shifted my gaze to the open kitchen where Patty was glowering at Mel, the ears on her bunny suit flapping as she shook her head emphatically. Mel fumbled with the tie on her green apron before shrugging out of the smock and tossing it at her boss’s chest. Her mouth moved in what I could only assume was a parting insult, because she turned on her heel and stormed off a second later.

Too enthralled with the drama, I didn’t notice the redheaded waitress with the ponytail standing in front of our table.

“Here’s your Big Bopper,” she said cheerily, my burger resting on a plate in the crook of her arm.

I nodded, fishing a twenty out of my pocket to cover the tip.

“Hey, do you know what happened to the girl who took my order?” I asked casually, tossing the bill on the table. “The blonde?”

“Oh, that was Melody. I think Patty just gave her the heave-ho. That girl doesn’t need to be working in the service industry anyway.” Her ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head. “She just called Patty a ‘dragonian.’ Call your boss a dragon, and you’re asking for it.” 

I choked a little on my Dr. Pepper. “Do you mean ‘draconian’?”

“Yeah.” Her brows pulled together. “Isn’t that what I said?” 

I was about to correct her when she blinked at me without a hint of guile. I could be wrong, but she might be destined for a career in food service. And, hey, she seemed fine with that. Giving her a lesson on nineteenth century Greek was a waste of my breath and her time. 

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing she’s gone.” I stared into my cup. “She probably didn’t fit in around here.”

The redhead shrugged, clearing some trash off the table before grabbing her tip and scooting away. 

Logan took the last bite of his burger, eyeing me as he chewed. “Dude, it wasn’t your fault the chick got fired. She called her boss a dragon.”

My appetite gone, I pushed the plate aside. “Draconian, you moron.”

Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “And I suppose there’s a difference, Wikipedia?”

I was about to suggest that Logan go ask the redhead for a date when I noted his expression. His eyes were lit with the same curiosity he’d tried to hide in high school when I’d offer to help with his homework. He’d act like he wasn’t paying attention, doodling on his notepad with indifference. But I always smiled when he’d bust out with some obscure factoid, usually to silence a teacher who’d put him on the spot. 

“Draconian means rigorous.” I took another sip of my soda. “Severe and cruel.” 

Logan nodded slowly. “So it’s kind of the same thing then, right?” Flashing a cocky grin, he snatched the pickle spear nestled next to my untouched burger. “Dragons are severe and cruel.”

Chuckling, I picked up my Big Bopper. “You got me there, bro.”