As I watched her rush away from the electricity crackling between us, it felt like old, sluggish blood that had turned to concrete in my veins was suddenly moving again. Something inside of me, something frozen stiff was starting to thaw off, just by being near her.

That was fucking dangerous.

Thawing meant that old feelings - the hurt, the betrayal, the fucking red-hot anger I felt towards Izzy, the woman I thought I was going to marry - was also thawing too. That resolution I'd made to myself, never again to let someone use me that way, that was thawing as well.

But, I reminded myself, it wasn't just that I had been engaged before, it wasn't just that I failed so spectacularly to see someone else's true colors. It wasn't just that I'd let myself be blinded by love and a pair of pretty tits, and kind eyes. There was a reason this electricity with Reese couldn't go beyond just sparks and it went way beyond my own failings as man.

No. Romances that centered around tours were deadly.

I turned and headed to the bus that would take us to the hotel. It was waiting for me, everything grinding to a halt because I needed it to. I only had to wave my hand and the people all around me would spring into action.

That was stardom. It was heady. It was awesome. But it was also poison.

Tours were microcosms of the whole rock 'n roll experience. The headlong immersion into ego. We spent the day having every little whim fulfilled, every need catered to. We were gods on tour, and I'd done this enough to know that this wouldn't last long. Whatever shenanigans I got up to while out on the road, this wasn't the real world. The life I led as Niall Penrose, bassist for Wreckage was a lot different from the life I led as Niall Penrose, son, brother and friend. It was almost like I was two different people, the man I wanted to be, and the man the world wanted to make me into.

And that was why things had gotten so fucked up with Izzy in the first place.

Isadora Castle grew up "down the road" from me, on the estate neighboring the one my father had inherited. She was pretty in an outdoorsy way, and she was always there when I came home from slogging through the life of a touring musician. I did love her, in a quiet, absent-minded sort of way. She made me feel grounded to a place I could call home, and when you're living out of a suitcase slung into the trunk of an old van, that counts for a lot.

I'd been coming down off our third world tour when we finally slept together. I'd been out of my mind with relief at being "home" again, plus I was feeling pretty much invincible, when she'd swung by my parents' house to, as she put it, "welcome me back home." Looking back, I have to wonder if she knew exactly what kind of needy frame of mind she would find me in and acted accordingly.

It wasn't until things went spectacularly wrong with the band that I started to think of Izzy as something different than just a comfortable companion. We were going by the name Wrecked back then, fronted by Killian Ness and the woman I knew as Jane Doe. Things went south fast after we heard that Killian was abusing Jane, and a particularly nasty incident led to her running away to press charges, eventually sending Killian to jail.

I'd been so broken up that I'd gone to visit Jane to try to make my apologies. When she slammed the door in my face, I flew back to England and proposed to Izzy.

Who knows why I did it? Maybe I wanted to cement that grounded feeling she gave me. Maybe I wanted to distance myself from the horror that my band life had become. Maybe I wanted to prove that I truly was a good guy and distance myself from Killian's crimes. But none of those reasons had anything to do with wanting Izzy as my wife.

But she said yes. Of course. That's not ego that makes me say that. I found out later that she had been waiting for that ring all this time. Waiting for me to make her Mrs. Penrose and give her all the comforts that name would bestow. Her family had just declared bankruptcy and she was anxious to attach herself to mine so as to keep her lifestyle the way she was accustomed to living.

That was one of the many secrets Izzy was keeping from me. But not the worst one.

Then again, I was keeping secrets too. I let Izzy believe I was this spectacular knight in shining armor that was going to swoop in and make her life a dream. Maybe I even believed it myself. But what I did know was that the craziness of touring had made it seem almost plausible.

And then it all fell apart.

From the way she ran away from me tonight, Reese seemed like she already knew that hooking up with someone while on tour is a huge mistake. We were in this bubble, this unreal dreamworld where everything is heightened. After some painful lessons, I now knew better than to give in to those heightened feelings, no matter how much I had enjoyed Reese's body pressed against mine.

And if I needed any more reason to back off, now she was my tech.

No, I'm not a snob. No matter how many times Jules and Ewan laugh about my upper crusty background, I've never looked down on anyone because they grew up differently from me. No, not getting involved with a roadie had nothing to do with the division between classes. It had everything to do with the professional divide. There was no way I wanted to fuck up - and of course I would inevitably fuck it up - things with a girl who basically had my life in her hands every night. If I screwed things up with her, she might just decide to let that light fall on me next time.

No more thawing. I needed to freeze things up again.

"You alright?" Hudson said softly as I passed by him back in the lounge. He was sitting on one of the straight backed chairs, his battered copy of Kerouac's On The Road in his lap.

"No clue," I told him, honestly.

"How'd it work with your new tech tonight? Things went smooth, I thought."

I clenched my fists and then released them. Even when I wanted to stop thinking about Reese it was like things conspired to remind me. "She was tops," I said truthfully. "I asked her on permanently."

Hudson raised an eyebrow.

"It's fine," I said, waving my hand. "She's a professional and so am I."

His other eyebrow zoomed up.

"Hey now. We can just be friends. Co-workers, right?" I nodded, more to myself than to Hudson. That was it. Sure I was attracted to her, but I was a grown adult. I could be near her without suddenly whipping out my Johnson. And if I did, I was pretty sure a tough bird like Reese would cut it right off with that box cutter of hers. So really it wasn't like it'd be hard to keep my hands off her. We could just... hang out. I liked hanging out with her. I liked the back-and-forth, the banter. I liked how she eyed me, checking to make sure I was serious, and then laughing to discover that I wasn't. I like her fire, and her complete command of the guys around her. There were a lot of pluses to having Reese Bailey as my friend.

So maybe we could just be friends. I could do that. "Yeah," I repeated. "We're just friends." The way Hudson was looking at me made me scramble to change the subject. "Hey, nice work out there tonight."

"Yup. One down." He paused. "And um, how many to go?"

I thought for a moment. Night after night stretched out in front of me, and every one of them I now got to spend with Reese right by my side. I had my best mates on stage with me and now I'd set it up so my angel would be right there too. The thought made me grin. "We're doing twenty-three shows, mate. Remember? You laughed when August told you because that's your lucky number."

"Sure is," Hudson stage-whispered. "It was July twenty-third when you guys hired me."

I stood still and looked at him for a moment. Our new vocalist was still a bit of a mystery. Laid-back and slightly goofy, he usually went along with things without causing too many waves. He was like the polar opposite of Killian in that regard, but it also meant that I didn't feel like I knew him very well yet. "That was a good day then, yeah?" I said.

"Best day of my life," he said, sincerely and at regular volume.

"For us too, mate," I told him. "When we found you, we got our second chance."

"Hey thanks, dude." Hudson blinked and then leaned back on his chair and tapped his fingers to his lips.

I nodded. "Right. Sorry then. Rest your voice. And then go to sleep at some point."

He gave me a knowing grin. Hudson was the opposite of me, a total night owl who could subsist on four hours of a sleep and a pot of black coffee. I had no idea how he did it and no intention of learning. Besides, the sooner I went to sleep, the sooner I'd wake up and see Reese.