I wrote a song! I did that.

Okay, I helped write the song. But the words? They’re mine.

I can’t wait to tell Lexi. She’s the first person I thought to call, but then stopped myself. I won’t be the clingy and needy little sister. She’s almost done with her tour, and in just over a week she’ll be free of the cameras too.

As much as I long to have my sister, I can’t help but reflect on everything I probably wouldn’t have done had she been here. I doubt I’d have gotten a tattoo. New clothes. Learned to play guitar. And I wouldn’t have spent my morning writing a song with Three Ugly Guys.

I understand myself enough to know I’d have sat in her shadow. Lexi Marx is bigger than life. Bold and unapologetic. She’s everything I’m not and I would have used that as an excuse to stay stagnant. But this time on the road has taught me I’m capable and valuable in my own way. I’ll never be her, but I don’t want to be.

I’m just trying to figure out who I want to be.

The guys spend the afternoon working with the tour manager. Between sound checks and interviews with press, I have the entire afternoon to myself. Normally I’d spend that time baking, but instead I walk over to a café and spend hours arranging ideas and writing in my notebook. Tonight the label booked us each rooms at a nearby hotel, so I feel no guilt because we won’t be eating on the bus anyway. Now that I’ve heard what’s possible, I can’t stop imagining all these lyrics paired with music. If there was such a thing as a song writing bug, I’m bitten.

I took a risk today. I’ve been taking more and more and it’s exhilarating. Thoughts of guilt or shame don’t cloud my mind, and it’s as if I’ve let a light into my life. The possibilities feel endless. As I head back to the bus to change for tonight’s show I decide to go with one of my new outfits, a little black dress that falls mid-thigh with a halter top that shows part of my tattoo if I lift my arms. I use the pasties, a bra-less option the ladies at the lingerie store suggested, and I pull on fishnet tights to go with my black combat boots, also new. I even take the time to do my makeup, going for more than my usual blush and lip gloss.

Damn, girl. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I don’t even look like myself. Gone are my country roots. Wrong. I’m still me. The outside doesn’t change that. But for the first time I have the freedom to explore how I want to express myself. This rock ’n roll chick is a little too much work for an everyday occurrence, but her chin lifts with confidence in the reflection. Even my red hair calls out for attention, the long waves loose around my shoulders a striking contradiction to my pale skin.

My phone pings with an alarm. The show’s about to start. Before I lose my nerve, I toss it into my bag and head out to watch my friends rock the house.

The guys bring down Boston. Their best show yet. If it’s possible, they get better with each show. Afterward, I follow them over to the exclusive after party they’re slated to appear at for a local station. Held in a private room off of the auditorium, dozens of excited listeners gather for free appetizers, an open bar, and most importantly, the men of Three Ugly Guys.

I don’t know how they do it. The schmoozing and smiling. The small talk and laughter. But Austin, Trent, Sean, and Leighton take it all in stride and make it look effortless. As if they’re having the time of their lives. I should be mingling, too, but I can’t seem to push myself out of my comfort zone. Instead I grab a water from the bar and find a place to people watch.

It works for a while, but after an hour Austin spots me across the room where I’ve reverted to my wallflower ways. He saunters over, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Why are you dressed like a sexy little kitten?” His eyes are hooded, and I swear my heart skips a beat. He looks at me as if I’m the most beautiful woman at this party, but I can’t tell whether that’s more because he thinks I’m pretty or from the shots of tequila he threw back a few minutes ago.

“It’s just a dress.” I narrow my gaze and try for a chastising glare.

His lips pull wide with a lazy grin. “No. It’s not just anything.”

I hold his gaze until I can’t take the heat. “Good show tonight.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs and takes another step closer, crowding my space. “I really love to play. You know that?” His voice is deep in my ear and scatters goosebumps across my flesh.

My lips part, a reply on the tip of my tongue, but the words short circuit and my mind goes blank under his stare. Wow. I’ve never had the full Austin. I’ve seen him do this after other shows. Find a woman or two and completely shower them with attention until they become putty in his hands. I’m not sure I want to be putty. I’m not naïve enough to believe he took those different girls out for an evening stroll.

His fingertips slide down my arm, from below my shoulder until they reach my wrist. “Do you want to—?” The fact he’s slept with a different woman in every town is all it takes to sour his advances.

“No,” I snap louder than I mean to. It’s rude, but I have no desire to be another name on his long list of conquests.

His brows rise and he takes a step back. That smirk is still in place as his gaze drops to my arm. “I was going to ask if I could see the rest of your tattoo.” He chuckles and I’m thankful for his humor. He’s giving me a pass, or he’s only been teasing, and either way I don’t want things to change between us. I really do value his friendship.

I roll my eyes and turn to my side, lifting my arm high enough that he can see the ink.

“Damn, girl. That’s fucking sexy.” His gaze dances with mischief.

“Get a good look, because I’m not showing you again.”

“Fair enough.” He nods. “Wait. Hold my beer so I can take a picture.”

I drop my arm back to my side and shove him playfully.

A commotion near the door draws Austin’s attention, and the buzz of conversation in the room quiets to that of murmurs. “No fucking way,” Austin says under his breath.

“Hey, this where all the cool rock stars hang out?” My sister’s voice rises above the chatter. I turn and it takes a long moment for me to process that it really is her in the flesh.

Trent shoves from his chair and rushes to where she stands, picking her up and holding her in a tight embrace. It's ridiculously romantic and the smile on my face grows with little effort.

A crowd gathers, all of the party attendees overwhelmed by the surprise guest, Lexi Marx. I hang back, waiting for my sister to pose for selfies and autograph the random items people hand her before I walk over.

As soon as her gaze finds mine, Lexi excuses herself and wraps me into her strong arms. Her voice is thick with emotion as she speaks into my hair. “These boys been taking care of you?”

I nod and step back, still reeling that she's here. “I thought you had another week?”

She glances over my shoulder and I know she's staring at Trent because her eyes go soft. “I have six more shows but none tonight. Couldn't stand being halfway across the country. I missed you guys.”

“You surprised me.” Trent murmurs and takes her in his arms again.

“Yeah?" A grin spreads across her face. “I like keeping you on your toes.”

“Fuck, yeah. I hope you never stop.”

“I forgot what this was like.” Austin rolls his eyes and then shouts, “Get a room!”

Trent flashes a grin at Austin. “Lucky for you, we’re staying the night in a hotel, otherwise I’d subject you to the sounds of our sweet lovemaking.”

Yeah, I’m thankful for that, too.

“I forgot how gross you two are.” Sean rolls his eyes but pushes past Trent to give my sister a hug. “We missed you around here.”

“When do you fly back?” I ask.

“Five in the morning. Crazy, right? I just couldn’t wait another week. Plus, the cameras were driving me insane. Remind me never to agree to a special like this again.”

“When my girl’s all anyone can talk about, it’ll all be worth it.” Trent stands behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist so she can’t go far. Not that she’s wants to. The smile on her face says there’s no place she’d rather be.

She glances around the room. “So, when can we get out of here?”

Sean shoves his hands in his back pockets and shrugs. “How about right now?”

“Cool.” Austin nods at the door. “Give me a few minutes to invite one of these fine ladies to my hotel room.”

Lexi rolls her eyes. “Some things never change.” She slides her hand in Trent’s and starts walking toward the door.

Leighton catches my gaze from across the room and raises his brows.

I point to the door and he nods, excusing himself from a conversation with the station’s DJ hosts.

“Come on, Romeo.” Sean slings his arm around Austin’s shoulders and steers his friend toward the exit. “The night is young. You can pick up ladies at the hotel bar.”

We grab our overnight bags from the bus, then head over to the hotel to check in. I’m ready for pajamas, my feet ache from standing, and can’t wait to unwind in private with a long shower.

“We’re gonna check out a blues club down the street. Trent, you in?” Sean says after we’ve all been given keys to our rooms.

“Sorry, guys.” Trent laughs, not looking one bit disappointed. His arms wrap around my sister’s waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Go make love to your lady.” Austin waves and takes a few steps back.

“I will.” Trent gives him a wink. “Loud and proud.”

Austin pretends to gag and even I have to laugh. “I’m glad my room’s on another floor.” Now that he mentions it, I share the same sentiment.

“’Night everyone!” Sean calls out and both guys step outside through the automatic doors.

“’Night,” I reply and it hits me then I haven’t seen Leighton since he took his key from the front desk. Disappointment gathers in my gut even though I try to push it away. He’s been distant all evening, or I’m reading into things. At the after party he spent time talking with guests. If I’m being honest, I hoped I might draw his attention with this outfit. Instead it’s almost as if it’s done the opposite. He’s barely said two words to me and I didn’t even get to tell him good night.

Lexi turns to Trent. “I’m gonna walk Opal up to her room.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I wave her off.

“No. We can walk you,” Trent says.

“No.” Lexi shakes her head and gives him a look I can’t quite read. “You will go upstairs to our room, and I’ll make sure she gets settled.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winks and raises his hand with a wave. “’Night, Opal.”

“Good night,” I say back. Trent turns and heads to the elevators, hopping in just as one is about to close. I look at Lexi. “What was that all about?”

“Just a girl wanting a moment with her sister.” She slides her arm in mine and walks us to the bank of elevators. “How are you? Everything’s going good? I feel horrible that I haven’t been here. Or that I haven’t called much. I swear it’s been insane.”

“I’m good. The guys have been nothing but nice.” They’ve been my friends. A smile pulls at my lips as the realization hits. They are friends. “Promise.”

“Good.” She lets out a sigh as we step onto the elevator and press the number for my floor. “I’m digging the new look by the way.”

“Oh, thanks.” I press my hands along the skirt of my dress. The elevator comes to a stop and as we step off I double check the room number on the paper envelope that holds my key. “I’m this way.” I point to the left. A few more steps and we’re stepping inside the room.

Lexi walks through, checking the bathroom and closet as I set my bag on the desk.

“What are you doing?” I ask when she opens and shuts the curtains.

“Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Habit. I always check the room when I check in.” At my confused stare, she continues. “You can’t be too careful, and there are some sick fucks in this world.” She glances around the room as if she wants to say more but doesn’t.

Silence hangs between us, an awkward reminder that while we are sisters we have a long way to bridge the years apart. I want to get there, and I think she does too, but it’ll take time.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in.”

She nods and glances around the room before meeting my stare. “You sure . . . you’ll be okay? I can stay here tonight.”

“That’s ridiculous, Lexi.” I let loose a chuckle. “You know Trent’s pacing your room this very minute.”

“That’s probably true.” She flashes a grin. “But he’s not the only person important to me and I . . . I don’t want you to feel alone.”

I always feel alone. But it’s nice to have someone who cares. “Lexi, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I really do. But you don’t need to babysit. I’m a grown woman. I’ll be just fine.” I glance around the room. It’s nicer than any place I’ve ever lived and this is just a hotel. I push her toward the door until she stands in the hall. “Now, go find your man. I’m going to take a long, hot shower, and then watch chick flicks until my eyes won’t stay open.”

“Thank you.” The tension in her face relaxes with an exhale. “Call if you need me. Good night, Opal. See you tomorrow.”

“Nighty-night,” I call after her. Something Grams always used to say, and with that little memory, my heart clenches. I miss Grams so much. I shut the door before Lexi discerns the sadness that rolls across my face. Squeezing my eyes shut to keep the threatening tears from escaping, I inhale a sharp breath and lock the deadbolt.

“Pull yourself together,” I mutter and walk over to my bag, retrieving a pair of clean underwear, camisole, and sleep shorts. I use the bathroom and change, but before I can remove my makeup, a knock at the door whips my head toward the sound. Lexi? Maybe she forgot something. I glance around the room and find nothing.

You can’t be too careful, and there are some sick fucks in this world. My sister’s warning sparks fear in my belly as I tiptoe toward the door. Another knock, this one more demanding moves my feet forward. I push up on my toes to glance out the peephole.

Leighton.

A rush of nerves, excitement, and the sudden need to brush my hair hit all at the sight of this man. I shake my head at those thoughts. He’s not interested in more than a friendship. That’s what I want, too. Only, if I really feel that way then why does a smile sneak its way onto my lips as I unlock the door and pull it open a few inches. “Hey.”

“I thought she’d never leave!” He bugs his eyes and settles one of his arms against the door frame.

“Who, Lexi?”

“Yeah.” His lips pull up on one side with his smirk.

I raise my eyebrows, wondering how long he was waiting. “You’ve been creeping outside my hotel room?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather be inside.” The low timbre of his voice floods my belly with butterflies. His eyes drop to my lips. “I’m a gentleman, so I’ll wait for an invitation.”

“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t ya?” Lord, I lack experience in flirting, but I’m trying.

He shrugs, his eyes meeting mine. “I can’t help that I’m confident.”

“Might wanna work on the arrogance, though.” I roll my eyes but that damn smile is firmly planted in place. I pull the door wide open, moving with it to keep space between us. “Since you’re already here, you might as well come in.”

“Thank you.” He winks, strutting into my room and setting a brown paper sack on the dresser. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Oh?” I take a seat on the edge of the bed and fold my legs so I can wrap my arms around them.

He flashes a cheeky smile over his shoulder and then turns his back again to unload whatever’s inside. He spins, hiding whatever he brought, and with Leighton it’s hard to guess. I put nothing past him.

“Hungry? Or thirsty?”

“Can I be both?”

His smirk grows to a smile that completely takes over his face, and the sight of it warms me from the inside out. “Good. Because I brought snacks. And champagne.”

“Of course you did.” I giggle and shake my head.

“I have refined tastes.” He almost looks insulted for a moment, but the irritation passes as he pops the top and pours us each a cup.

“Does it hurt a little?” I tease and when he lifts a brow I tip my drink to clarify. “Surely this wasn’t meant for paper cups.”

“Truly.” He tips back his drink until it’s gone and closes the space between us in two long strides. “But beggars can’t be choosers. Plus, I got lucky scoring that bottle.”

“Rough life, living like a pauper?”

“It’s not so bad.” He stares, really stares, to the point I look away first. The bed dips as he sits and stretches across the mattress on his side. “So, what should we do tonight?”

“I was going to sleep.”

His brow rises with a hint of mischief. “Are you accepting applicants to join you?”

“Leighton.” I draw out his name, pretending I want nothing of the sort, when in reality there’s no need to apply. He’d be hired on the spot.

“What? Just saying. I’m interested. And I’ve been told I make a great cuddler.”

“Cuddling?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “You list that on the application?”

“Hell, yeah. Right next to gives good oral and open to kinky shit, and underneath always uses protection.”

Lord. My body tingles with the thought and I can feel a blush move up my chest. I school my features so I don’t give away the surge of desire rushing through my veins. “Regular Prince Charming.”

He laughs. “You’re fun to tease. I can see why Austin does it all the time.”

Teasing. Because he’s really not that into you.

He holds a hand up before I can reply. “Mostly teasing . . . I actually undersold my cunnilingus abilities. I’m quite the stud in that department.”

Oh. The breath whooshes from my chest and my entire body comes to attention. “Do you . . . ?” I bite at my lower lip and drop my gaze to the bedding, tracing my fingernail along the white sheets. “Do you have a lot of experience with that? To be able to list your advanced oral on a resume like that?”

“You’re adorable when you blush.” He pushes up onto his elbow and reaches for me with his other arm. The pad of his thumb brushes over my cheek, lingering as his voice drops to barely a whisper. “It starts at your cheeks, at least I think it does, but I’d be okay with going shirtless to confirm.”

“Stop.” I swat his hand away and set my mostly full glass of champagne on the nightstand. It gives me time to relax my nerves. He has no clue the feelings that stir in my gut when he does stuff like that. How one playful touch lights my skin on fire with an ache for more. I take one of the pillows and hug it to my chest before facing him again. “I was asking a serious question.”

“You want to know how I got good at eating pussy.” His brows shoot up and that damn smirk tells me how entertaining he finds my question.

I don’t need a mirror. My cheeks heat to the point they must match my hair. “Screw you!” I lift the pillow and toss it at his head, but he only catches it and laughs.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He settles back on his side and I mirror the movement so we’re facing each other. He levels his stare and swallows, his strong jaw working back and forth. There’s no longer a hint of humor in his gaze. “Serious answer. Something I don’t love to share, because, well, it’s not as impressive as the alternative.”

His response piques my interest. “I’m waiting.”

He winces. “I watched a lot of porn.”

“Oh.” It’s the only response I can muster as my body comes alive again with a flood of desire. Why is the thought of that so hot? It shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, mostly amateur stuff. Those women don’t fake orgasms as much, so I figured it was the place to start. And, well, ever since I started applying my research to actual partners . . . ” His gaze lifts from the space between us to my stare. “I haven’t had an unsatisfied customer yet.”

“That’s . . . ” Sexy. Hot.

“Pathetic?” he offers, scrunching up his nose.

“I was going to say resourceful.” I bite my lip, because maybe he’s onto something. One of the worries I have about sex, once I find a partner I want to share the experience with, is that I won’t know what the hell I’m doing. “Maybe I should . . .” I catch myself before the rest of the words tumble from my mouth.

“What was that?” He tilts his chin with his gaze.

My face heats with the fire of a thousand suns and I can’t look him in the eye.

“Opal. Oh, Opal . . .” The way he says my name only makes this more embarrassing. “Are those naughty thoughts going through that gorgeous head of yours? Because I’m gonna need you to share.”

I scoff and meet his gaze. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Come on, please? I’ve always wanted to get inside you.” He coughs and clears his throat. “Your head, that is.”

“Mmm hmm.” Eying him suspiciously, he only laughs.

“I swear it. Tell me, Opal. I’ll keep your secret.”

Reaching for another pillow, I turn onto my belly and tuck it under my chest. At least laying side by side I don’t have to meet his gaze unless I want to. Which I can feel this instant. I rest my cheek on my hand and prop it up with my elbow so I can witness his reaction. “I’m sure you may have guessed, but I’m a virgin.”

Leighton might be a musical genius, but he’s still an eighteen-year-old man. Eyes wide as saucers, I can almost watch my words as they process through his brain. “You’re . . . oh, okay . . . that’s cool.” Interesting. He hadn’t guessed.

“Cool?” I raise a brow and roll my eyes.

“Sorry. No. That was totally lame. It’s more than cool, just . . . unexpected.”

“What did you think I was gonna say?”

“I was thinking you didn’t know how to give a proper blow job or something.”

“Oh, yeah.” I don’t know how to do to that either.

“You haven’t . . . have you?”

“No. I mean I’ve touched a . . .” I clench my eyes shut. God, I can’t even say the word.

“Dick. You’ve touched a dick.” He chuckles.

“I even helped.” I make a jerking motion with my hand and Leighton bursts into a fit of laughter.

“You helped him masturbate?” He settles himself back on his side, still smiling. “That’s nice. Guys like that.”

“They do?” I squint, because I’m not sure that’s how Hunter Anderson felt. It was more a consolation for me not being willing to go all the way at the time.

“Yeah, well, being a guy and all, I can only speak from my own experience. But yeah, I like that. A lot.” In this light his eyes look more intense than ever, the brown hue dark and captivating. “So, is it a religious thing? Are you waiting for marriage?”

“No, not exactly. I don’t know.” I’ve never talked so candidly about sex with a guy, especially one I find so attractive. “Maybe I’ve built it up in my head. Made this more than it should be. I’ve always wanted my first to be something special. Maybe not the man I’ll marry, but someone who could be.”

“Oh.” His gaze drops to where his hand presses into the mattress. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear there’s a tinge of disappointment in his response.

“That’s dumb, isn’t it? Maybe I should just get it over with. Like a Band-Aid.”

His gaze snaps to mine, eyes wide, and he shakes his head. “No, Opal. No. Never equate sex to a Band-Aid.”

I roll my eyes and let loose a chuckle. “I’m being serious.”

“I am, too! But hey . . .” He waits until I meet his gaze. “You deserve special. Hold out for that. Your first time should be something you cherish, with someone you trust. I mean, I’d volunteer, but I’m out on both those accounts.”

“You want to sleep with me?” The question slips out.

“That’s not—” His eyes widen, fearful with nerves.

“Leighton, you don’t have to make excuses. Okay? I get it.” He has the same deer in the headlights look as every other guy when they discover just how inexperienced I am. I roll my eyes because all men are the same. “Everyone wants to get laid, but no one wants to deflower the virgin.”

He raises his brow and points in the air. “Actually, there are men who pay high dollar for the privilege.”

“Leighton,” I scold.

“Sorry.” He reaches out to brush a lock of my hair back from my face. “I don’t think you realize how beautiful you are, or how . . . intimidating. That’s the part that’s scary. It’s a very real worry. The expectation that most guys are too chicken shit, or honestly can’t deliver. And you don’t deserve to be disappointed. Not your first time.”

“Oh.” My mind reels with this information. By the serious dip of his brow I have to consider he’s telling the truth and not just giving me lip service. “That makes sense, actually. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“But watching porn—amateur porn—you think that’ll help for when I actually do the deed?”

“It can’t hurt.”

“I don’t even know where I’d find such a thing.” I laugh at my inexperience.

“I’m probably going to regret this, but . . .” He blows out a long breath. “I could show you.”

And just like that every molecule in my body comes alive with awareness. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, here.” He reaches for his back pocket and produces his cell. Scooting closer, he grabs a pillow and settles it under his chest so we’re side by side. He flicks through the screens on his phone until he lands on the icon with a lowercase T. The feed populates, but before I can see he’s at the search bar typing with his phone tilted away from my view.

“Maybe let’s start . . . here.” He takes his phone and places it between us both so we can see. Only I can’t really. “Here.” He adjusts the volume and my hotel room amplifies with heavy breaths, and the wet sounds of slurping.

I scooch closer on the bed so we’re touching, all the way down one side from shoulders to hips. Oh, hell. The heat of his body along with the explicit images on screen send a jolt of lust through my body. My clit thrums with the need to be touched, and the urge to press my body to his takes over my thoughts. My nipples tighten and press against the soft fabric of my top.

If I were bold I’d turn into him, run my hands up his broad chest, beg him to kiss me, and pull him down on top of my body. I ache to feel the heaviness of his chest press against mine. The desire is almost enough to get my limbs to move. Almost.

But I’m not bold or brave. The chance that he might reject my advances suspends my body immobile. I can’t even lift my gaze from the screen to gauge his reaction. If I find he isn’t interested, or worse, indifferent, it would crush me.