I was so late that there was no time for anyone to comment on where I'd gone or what I'd been doing. My harried looking tech just slung the guitar strap over my neck and gave me a not so gentle shove out into the spotlight.

I blinked, wavering a second. But years of practice kicked in like muscle memory and I just lifted my hand.

The screams from the crowd climbed higher, assaulting my eardrums. I ducked away, but in the process I caught sight of my brothers.

Jonah was at the mic facing out into the crowd, but his eyes were on me, glaring through narrowed slits. Beau was way back at the keyboards on the other end of the stage, but I could tell by the stiff, still way he was holding his shoulders that he was poised for trouble.

Of course, Finn was grinning as he let his fingers play over the bass. He was expecting drama because lately that's all I'd been giving them.

I told myself I didn't care. Fuck them was my mantra these days. But it was a lot easier to believe that when I was away from them and the blood they shared with me. It was much harder when I was in the same room with them. When could read their thoughts and feel their disappointment.

Always the fucking disappointment.

But Noelle's kiss was still lingering on my lips and because of that, nothing could possibly be wrong tonight.

So I gave all three of them a big smile. "Hey guys," I said into the mic so the crowd could hear me. "Nice of you to show up."

Laughter bubbled up from the crowd. Jonah looked like he wanted to argue, but he knew a good line when he heard one. "Sorry to make you wait, Gabe," he retorted, to further laughter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beau's shoulders slump in relief. "Ready to do this?" Jonah prompted.

These days, when I looked at Jonah, it didn't feel like I was looking at a person anymore. The brother who'd been my idol, my guiding light, was gone, swallowed up by ambition and a desperate need for stardom at whatever cost. I looked at him now and I saw nothing of the nights spent in the outbuilding on the edge of our property, writing our songs and dreaming of the future. I just saw a thorn in my side.

A real prick, more like it.

But if he was a professional, then I was too, dammit. So I smiled at him and lifted my chin. "Born ready," I replied.

Screams of approval washed over us. I glanced down at the camera guy crouched in the wings, capturing the side of my face to project it up on to the monitors. I gave a practiced grin, the one that showed my stupid dimple and the crowd went apeshit.

"How 'bout you, are you ready?" Jonah hollered into the mic. The screams grew deafening. I looked back at the hired drummer and nodded.

Even though it was getting harder and harder to care, I still didn't want to disappoint them. Jonah, Beau, Finn, but most of all Noelle, all counted on me to do my job, night after night after night. I was a King Brother, after all.

So I did it. I played my guitar. I sang my harmonies. I posed and preened and pointed at the screaming teenaged girls who'd grown up loving us. I made them believe I loved them too, because that was my job most of all.

* * *

When the show was finally over, Noelle was waiting in the wings, clapping excitedly. I made a beeline for her, needing to feel her hands on my body. When I was out there, I felt scattered, like the crowd had torn me to pieces. I needed her touch to put me back together.

"Gabe!" Jonah called as I pushed past him. "Hang on a sec!"

I pretended I hadn't heard him. Call me a fucking coward, but I preferred Noelle's soft kisses to my older brother's sharp words. A headache was starting to form behind my eyes. I needed a bed, and my girl.

And maybe another drink.

But there was no avoiding any of my brothers. Not when your life is led on the road. Tour buses might look big on the outside, but there's nowhere to hide on the inside.

My bunk was way in the back, sitting right over the engine because I claimed I didn't mind the noise. It was the most private place on the bus, and I found the sway of it soothing, especially with Noelle snuggled along the length of my body.

She was talking about the show, breaking down the places she thought I'd messed up, or in her words, "where you could step it up." I wasn't really listening. Her nightly post mortems irritated Jonah to no end, so I let her talk just for the pleasure of hearing him grinding his teeth from his bunk.

"And you should be the singer," she said, and from the sound of her voice she was repeating herself.

"Babe," I sighed. From over in his bunk, Jonah swore softly.

She pushed up on her elbow and looked at me. I couldn't help but smile even though her face was deadly serious. I loved the way she looked at me. Not the way that everyone else in my life looked at me. Like they were calculating the exact amount of money I can make them.

Noelle looked at me the way people back in Crown Creek looked at me. Like I was just a... guy.

Her lower lip was starting to jut though, and I knew she wanted an answer. My head fell back on the pillow. "I'm not a singer," I repeated, for what felt like the millionth time.

"Gabriel," she grumbled. "Come on."

Guilt twisted in my gut. "You really want to do this?"

"Yes!" she hissed, truly exasperated now. "Don't you think it's a good idea?"

I didn't, not at all, and I'd told her this. It wasn't like I didn't think she could sing. It's that I knew I couldn't. "My voice isn't great, babe," I reminded her. "I'm good at harmonies, but - "

"Baby," she wheedled, sliding her hands up my chest. "You know that's not true."

Her hands slid up to my shoulders and then traveled lower. She grinned when my stomach tightened under her touch. "What if I just play back-up for you?" I bargained, trying to keep my head straight. "On your album. How about that?"

Her hands slid lower and my cock jumped, lengthening in my jeans. Noelle snuck a quick glance and grinned in triumph. "A duet," she said firmly. "I really want to sing with you. Blend our voices like we've blended our lives."

From Jonah's bunk came the sound of retching.

If her fingers tracing over my jeans hadn't sealed the deal, the sound of my brother's disgust clinched it. "Fine baby. Happy anniversary then." Her eyes widened and I grinned. "You thought I forgot."

"I didn't think that," she corrected quickly. "I believe in you, you know I do."

That was why she was the best. Why every time I looked at her, the question popped up in my mind. Will you marry me?

I pulled her close again. I wasn't asking yet. She deserved a big flowery spectacle, a story she could brag about to the tabloids. But it was hard for me to come up with that type of idea. As weird as it sounded, I really didn't go in for that kind of thing.

Deep down inside, I'm just a guy from Crown Creek, a fading town in rural New York. The forgotten part of the state where four local boys making it so big was the last source of pride the town had left.

A King wedding would be in the news for months. I could imagine marrying her in the house I grew up in, standing near the edge of the property, where the creek arced a little oxbow, leaving a spit of land jutting outward. "The cliff" we'd called it as kids.

But even as I pictured her in a white dress trailing across my parents' lawn, I knew it would take some convincing. Noelle hadn't come home with me yet. Every break in touring that we'd had while a couple, she'd begged to go off to far-flung destinations. "Hey babe?" I whispered into her hair.

"Mmm?" She was falling asleep and her voice was pouty. "Gabriel, come on."

"Sorry," I whispered, pulling her closer. "Good night."