Blake’s fingers hovered over the email send button. Eight days had passed since he last spoke to Gabi, and now he was home, sitting in the Reckless Beat jet while it taxied into Teterboro airport. She’d emailed him every day, her messages growing more concerned the longer he went without replying, yet he still didn’t know what to tell her.

He re-read the email he still hadn’t sent—Hey, angel. Sorry I’ve been distant. I just wanted to let you know I arrived safely and hope to be back with you soon.

Love Blake.

“What’s wrong?” Mason asked from the seat beside him.

Blake glanced up and met the stares of each band member along with Leah and Alana as they scrutinized him from their seats. They all knew something was wrong. They just assumed it revolved around being away from Gabi.

“Nothing.” He focused back on his phone and pressed send. The email was lame at best, but at least he was keeping in touch. He couldn’t stand speaking to her, hearing the hurt in her voice, especially when he couldn’t ease her pain. It wouldn’t be long now and his problems would be over. He’d have coffee with Michelle once or twice, be seen in the same nightclubs and create a few national headlines—making sure nothing was exciting enough to make the global gossip mags. Then bam, the devil spawn would leave him the fuck alone.

Until then, he needed to continue to keep his distance from Gabi. She needed to concentrate on her studies anyway, and he’d gone too far for her to find out about Michelle now.

“Nothing? Like the same ‘nothing’ that’s kept you grumpy for the last three weeks?” Mason asked.

“Or the same ‘nothing’ that has you swearing your ass off on your cell? To people you refuse to name,” Mitch added.

“Leave him alone,” Alana spoke softly. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

Leah moved forward in her seat. “We’re worried about you, Blake.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” he answered, trying not to shuffle in his chair under all the attention. “I miss Gabi. End of story.”

“So why didn’t you stay in Aus?” Leah frowned. “Your band commitments are over for a while. You didn’t have to come back with us.”

“I’ve got stuff I need to sort out at home. Once that’s organized, I’ll be on the next flight back to her.” He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I just miss her, that’s all.”

The jet pulled to a stop, and one by one they unclicked their seatbelts, letting the conversation drop. While he stood and gathered his carryon luggage, Ryan came up beside him.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? Leaving them behind, I mean. I’ve done it for years, and it never gets easier.” Ryan patted Blake on the shoulder. “I hope whatever you have to deal with at home isn’t too serious.”

Blake turned to Ryan and nudged him with his shoulder. “No, everything’s cool. I’ve got a newfound respect for you though. The whole long distance thing sucks. How do you do it?”

Ryan scoffed, “Obviously not very well. My marriage is hanging by a thread.”

“You’ll pull through. Have faith.”

“I honestly don’t think we will.” Ryan shrugged. “And I’m not sure if I want to anymore. What’s the point? Apart we’re miserable, and together isn’t any better. I’m beginning to think that catching Julie cheating will be a good excuse to make a clean break.”

Blake jerked back in surprise while his friend turned and strode to the opened cabin door. Had he been too consumed with his own issues to notice the enormity of what Ryan must have been going through?

“I’m a fuckin’ douche,” he muttered to himself and grabbed his iPad from its position between the chair cushions and patted his jeans pocket for his passport. “Hey, Rye, wait up.”

Blake was the last to descend the aircraft staircase, shading his eyes from the early morning sun. An airport shuttle waited for them a few feet away, and he climbed on, disappointed to find Ryan already seated next to Mason.

Marriage had always meant a lot to Ryan, so Blake couldn’t let the conversation slide. They’d have to talk later, once they caught up on sleep, and the comfort of home soil made their problems less exhausting.

The bus drove them to the customs building where they went through the usual security protocol. Within minutes they were all hustling to the front doors manned by two of their usual security staff.

“Another big crowd?” Leah asked.

One of the men shrugged. “Not too big.”

“OK, guys, let’s make this a quick exit. I want to get home.” Leah walked outside and waited.

The standard burst of noise that accompanied their fans, erupted when they walked from the building. Females held up signs dedicating their love, men yelled, and cameras flashed—nothing new or out of the ordinary. Except for the woman breaking from the crowd.

One of the security guards lunged for her, his hands sliding over her slim waist as she jumped out of his reach. She ran toward Blake, throwing her thick, dark glasses and baseball cap to the ground, releasing a mass of silky, strawberry blonde hair.

Shit.

Michelle pounced on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. He had no choice but to grab her hips to steady himself and fumbled backward until he stabilized her weight. She clung to him, her thighs gripping him tight, her hands running around his neck.

“Get the hell—” His words died under her lips, the clash of her mouth hard and unyielding against his. He jerked back and dropped his hands from her body, letting her fall to her feet. Cameras flashed, people cheered, and none of it penetrated the wild thump, thump, thump of his chest while he wondered how he would explain this to Gabi. “Mother fuc—”

“Now, now,” she whispered, placing a finger over his mouth. “Is that any way to greet your girlfriend?”

He stepped back, gaining distance to breathe. Mason strode toward them, his gaze darting from Michelle, then back to Blake. “Is this the ‘nothing’ you were talking about?”

There wasn’t a rock big enough for Blake to hide under. Everyone stared at him, photographers, fans, security, Mitch, Leah, Alana, and Sean. The final kick to the balls came when he caught Ryan’s scathing gaze. “Remind me not to let you near my wife.”

“Now this is the type of attention I was talking about,” Michelle purred, the side of her lips lifting in a menacing smile.

He wanted to throttle her. To wrap his hands around her neck and wring the life from her. She stepped into him, placing her hands on his chest. All he could do was stand there, too shocked to figure out how to handle the situation without making a bigger mess.

“Get the fuck away from me,” he growled under his breath.

“Oh, sweetie, the photos have already been taken. No point worrying about it now.” She rubbed her breasts against his body, and he cringed. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He ignored the question, sidestepping her and continuing to the limo. All he could think of was Gabi. How she would react. What she would say. And how her beautiful face would contort in pain when she saw the inevitable photos.

“Blake, wait,” Michelle called over the bark of questions from fans.

He continued to walk in long strides across the tarmac, climbing into the waiting vehicle and pulling the door shut.

Inside, silence reigned, thick and uncomfortable.

“Gabi’s going to be devastated,” Alana whispered to Mitch, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Yeah. Gabi would be devastated. And the worst thing? Blake had a feeling this was only the beginning.