My thoughts wander to Dex a lot over the next few days, but why? It’s Dex, after all. He sleeps with everyone he can and has a temper to rival the titans. He smokes too much and drinks heavily. He lives off junk food and is moody. He swears too much but has a wicked sense of humor. His new haircut emphasizes a strong jaw that sometimes looks a little too sexy when it has a day or two’s growth on it. His eyes are the most unique color, so close to caramel, but more soulful. Wait…

What? Why am I thinking of him? When did I start thinking of him? Or like the little sweet nothings we’ve been sharing? This is something that’s crept up on me when I wasn’t looking.

I drop my head to the mattress and cover myself under the pillow. No. I refuse to think of him that way. But I can’t help it. Somehow over the last week, things have changed, shifted into something different, something new, something exciting.

And then the tingles began…

I know what it is, recognizing the feeling that’s sneaking in without my permission. And now I wonder if these small gestures and occurrences aren’t so random. I felt safe in his arms. The warmth between us is new, but I felt safe and wanted. It’s the wanted that scares me most. Liking the thought that Dex might want me leaves me restless and I roll over, hiding beneath the covers

* * *

Dear Cory,

It never bothered me before, but now I hate flying. My therapist… I know. I know. Yes, I have a therapist. I think that officially makes me an Angeleno now. Anyway, she once told me that it was a natural fear since you died in a plane crash. But she also gave me the statistics of car crashes, death by mosquitoes, and lightning to help put it in perspective. Not sure if it worked since I shudder just thinking about mosquitoes and hide under my covers during storms. I’m in my car too much and have a false sense of safety there.

I have a flight to see the band in NYC tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. I miss you.

XO.

My hands are sweating and my knee is bouncing, anxiety getting the best of me. I wish I had something to take to calm me, but for now, the shot of whiskey will have to do. Staring out the window, I try to think of happy things like my kids, the beautiful weather California has been having, and try not think about plane crashes, mosquitoes, or cars. Adjusting my neck pillow, I move to lean back in my chair and turn up my music. I close my eyes and lose myself in the music.

Once I arrive at the hotel, the same one where the guys are staying, I shut the door to my room and flop back on the bed. Not even five minutes later, a light knock on the door makes me sit up and go. Expecting the bellhop, I open the door wide, then walk back inside, signaling for him to come in. “Just put the suitcases there please.”

“Sorry, no luggage. Just a shit ton of baggage.”

Surprised, I turn back to find Dex standing in the middle of the doorway. I quirk a grin and reply, “Well, get your ass and all your baggage in here anyway.”

As he walks by, he says, “I wanted to see how you’re doing?” I’m sure my face is showing my confusion, his unexpected concern taking me by surprise. He laughs. “I know. I know. I have this tough exterior, but believe it or not, I have a heart buried deep down in here somewhere. I just haven’t felt it in a while.”

“Well, I hope you do soon because I’d hate to think of you going through life without a heartbeat.”

“A lifeline.”

I nod.

He asks, “So how are you?”

“I’m good.”

His eyes lock with mine, holding me steady just through a look. “No, how are you really?”

Tilting my head, I remark, “I appreciate it, but I’m not sure where all the concern is coming from.”

“Just a friend checking on a friend.”

I sit in a chair by the window and start swiveling back and forth. “Are we friends?”

“Are we not?” With his eyebrows up, he seems genuinely surprised.

“Sometimes, I’m not sure.”

“We’re friends, Rochelle. I’m sorry if I gave the impression we weren’t.”

With all of this apologizing going on, I take a chance. “I’m sorry for the past stuff.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I am though.” This is the most we’ve ever broached the topic and the whole conversation catches me off-guard. I used to have planned rebuttals, but today, with our defenses down, I don’t worry about those and just go with it.

He looks around as if searching for an escape in case he needs one, but it’s just us here in this hotel room with one door in and the same door out. No other escapes, not even the luxury of an interruption.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to go out after the show… with the band?”

“Yeah, that will be fun. My friend Lara will be with me tonight.”

“Cool.” He nervously shoves his hands in his pockets like a seventeen-year-old. The vulnerability on his face is quite charming. “I should go.”

“I appreciate the welcome wagon.”

“No problem,” he says with a short chuckle. “I’ll catch ya later.”

“At the show. Break a leg.”

“I’m not superstitious.”

“I am,” I reply.

“Good to know.” He opens the door and the bellhop is standing there with his hand raised as if he was about to knock. Handing the kid some money as he passes, Dex says, “That’s for her.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

As the bellhop carries my case inside the room, I’m left standing there baffled by what just happened. Dex has always been hard to figure out, but this time, he’s near impossible.

* * *

The night started off innocent enough. Lara and I had dinner and drinks, then headed to see The Resistance. In the past, New Yorkers have always been crazy and fun at their shows. I assume they won’t disappoint tonight.

Feeling sexy in my new black jeans and tank top, I decided my high-heeled knee boots, silver and black necklaces would complement. The outfit is a departure from my normal California style, which tends to be very laidback and more free-flowing with some Mom mixed in. Tonight’s theme is sex appeal and rock n’roll. Lara was influential in the ensemble.

She looks amazing—effortless, but always at the edge of fashion. Together, we are both beauty and brains. We learned a long time ago that we can be sexy without coming off like bimbos.

Clutching her purse under her arm, she glances my way. “So I’ve been thinking about our conversation last week. Maybe it’s time for you to start dating again.”

There’s a quiet between us as we both take that in. Finally, I say, “And why do you think that?”

“Seems like you might be more ready than you think.”

I shrug. “I dunno. I don’t think about it much.”

“Tonight seems like a good time to start.”

“Start what? Thinking about it or dating?”

She shrugs this time. “Maybe both.”

With a laugh, I say, “I can tell you’re gonna be trouble with a capital T tonight.”

“Is there any other way to be?”

Shaking my head, I laugh again. I love her spirit and energy too much to deny her the possibility of the fun in store for us. I also feel my more adventurous side revealing itself. It feels good to let loose. It’s been too long and the rush of adrenaline hypes me up after so many years. Taking her hand, I pull her into the massive crowd toward the doors.

When we enter, I realize it’s also been forever since I’ve been on this side of a concert. The T-shirts, buttons, posters, and passion displayed for the band makes me smile. But I’m soon tugged to the left by Lara when she spots a bar. “Shot time.”

While we wait in line, I ask, “You’re gonna get me wasted, aren’t you?”

“If my plan works.”

“Fine. First round is on me.” I bump her hip with mine. “If we’re gonna do it, we’re gonna go big.”

After two shots and a Jack and Coke to-go, we make our way backstage, flashing our badges when necessary. I leave the guys alone, not wanting to interrupt their pre-performance routine. I lead her down to the VIP area off to the side of the crowd next to the media. “This is great,” she says, squeezing in next to me.

The anticipation builds just like it always did when I used to come to their shows. I would watch Cory, my eyes fixed on him. Tonight I stare at the spot where he used to stand to start the show, but he’s not there. I take the other shot, wanting to drown out the memories and live in the here and now. The music being piped in overhead stops and the arena goes black. My heart starts thundering in my chest from excitement. This is how The Resistance has started every show since the first tour, and for tradition, they still do. With one loud hit on the drums, the entire place goes quiet. Dex is at his kit, doing a countdown even though the arena lies trapped in darkness. I smile.

I can’t see, but I know Kaz and Derrick should be in place. Dex kicks into the opening solo and we start screaming along with everyone else. Like I’ve seen so many times before, a spotlight hits Johnny center stage, his guitar hanging upside down on his back, his hands gripping the microphone in such a seductive way, the way that made him the star he is.

His voice carries over the screams. The girls next to me start to cry and the guys holler. Johnny’s pitch is flawless, something that’s always come so easily for him. Dex is in the background—sunglasses on, no headband anymore like he used to wear when his hair was long, ripped shirt where the sleeves used to be, and a rhythm that no other drummer on the music scene can rival. I close my eyes, the alcohol and song melding perfectly together. For a minute, I forget all that’s happened in the last three years. For a moment in time, I feel, just like I used to feel when I played guitar and wrote songs with the guys. When I open my eyes, a wave of emotion takes hold and I finish the drink in my hands, dropping the plastic cup to the floor and throw my arms in the air, letting the melody wash through me, over me, taking me whole.

The only thing more powerful than music is love. The music will have to be enough for now.

Five songs in and the audience is much drunker and less aware of their bodies. Lara and I follow as the vibe of the night carries us. I spin, dancing my ass off, and embracing the freedom. Before the band breaks for the encore, we sneak backstage again and make a cocktail. The guys have a full bar setup back here. They don’t drink before or during the shows anymore, but after, I know they like to have the option. With fresh drinks in hand, we go to the dressing room and plop down on the couch together. It only takes one look in each other’s direction and we start giggling. “You’re a mess,” I tease.

Poking me in the arm, she says, “Look who’s talking.”

The door swings open and the guys come in one-by-one. Dex smiles when he sees me—cocky and annoyingly sexy. The rest of them greet us before retreating to different parts of the room. Johnny makes a call. Kaz goes into the bathroom, and Derrick hops up on the counter, his back against the mirror, and starts playing on his phone.

Dex sits next to me, a bottle of soda in his hands. He takes a long swig, his eyes steady on me and asks, “Are you drunk?”

Leaning my head back, I reply, “A little.”

“Don’t get wasted… yet. We’re going out later.” He stands up and heads for the door. But he stops to look in the mirror and run his hands through his hair first. He puts his sunglasses back on and leaves with a bodyguard in tow.

I’m left there with my mouth hanging open and very much looking forward to later.

Derrick gets up, looking annoyed. “Damn Kaz, hogging the toilet.” He walks out. I guess in search of another bathroom.

Johnny hangs up, then grabs a water from the fridge. “It’s a good crowd tonight. Holliday says hi.”

“New York,” I reply as if that’s the only answer needed. “Tell her hi.”

“I’m glad you flew out, Ro. It’s good to have you back on the road again.”

“Thanks.”

When he leaves, I turn to Lara. “You still up for going out?”

“Umm. Have you met me?”

“Silly question. What was I thinking?” I laugh, then ask, “Where exactly are we going out tonight? Any idea?”

“Hopefully not to jail.”

“So that’s our goal? Just to stay out of trouble?”

“No one said anything about trouble. Trouble is definitely still on the agenda.”

* * *

It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with the band in public. My mind has blocked the chaos that came along with it. But I’m quickly reminded when we get out of the SUV and have to walk one block up to a private restaurant and bar. Derrick and Kaz went to party across town with some friends of theirs. Johnny went to the hotel. Tommy and Lara lead the way inside while Dex walks next to me. Our hands accidentally touch a couple of times and I notice each one, wanting more. My desire is fulfilled in a different way when we go inside the bar. His hand presses lightly against my lower back, guiding me in, and making me wonder if he’s ever done that to me in the past. I don’t think he has because that one caring gesture is felt throughout my entire body. I think I would remember this sensation. Once inside, the crowd is subdued, calm is being restored as the adrenaline starts wearing off. So does the booze, so I tell Dex, “I’m ready for a drink.”

With a smile that reaches his eyes, he says, “I’m ready for a few myself. Our table’s over here.”

The music is exotic—seductive, the lights dim, and the crowd stylish. I recognize a few celebrities, some I’ve met before—one is an actor, Chad Spears, who hit it big in the last year and hit on me at an after-party of an awards show a couple years back. He was young and cute then. He’s more man and more handsome these days. Sitting on a white leather couch, he has his arm draped over a woman who is either a model or a wannabe actress. Chad’s gaze meets mine and a wry grin appears. With a nod, we acknowledge each other just as Dex’s hand slips to my side, redirecting me to the corner where our booth is located.

We settle in and order drinks. Tommy jokes about a screw up backstage while Dex eyes me. “You look good tonight.”

“Good?” I tease with a nudge to his side, liking the fact that he’s looking at me.

“Better than good. Hot.”

I tap my head lightly to his shoulder. “Aww, thank you. You look go—”

A smooth voice interrupts us, “Hey, Rochelle.” I know it’s Chad before I even look up. Glancing past him to the VIP table he was recently occupying, I notice the girl is gone. “Good to see you.”

“Hi,” I reply just as our drinks are delivered.

“Chad,” Dex says with a harsh emphasis on the name.

“Interesting to see you here… in a bar, Dexter. How’s post-rehab working out for you?” Chad eyes Dex’s drink insinuating everything.

Dex is calm considering the insult, and says, “I don’t do drugs anymore, so it’s working out just peachy.” Dex is about to say something else, but bites his bottom lip as he looks away. Picking up his glass, he drinks like he’s got a point to prove.

Chad bumps his leg against mine, making me look back up. He straightens his suit jacket and puts a smile on for me. “We should catch up. Can I buy you a drink?” I start to say no, but he cuts me off. “Just one. Please.”

He holds his hand out for me. Feeling it would be rude not to, I take it. Dex grabs me by the belt loop and stops me. “Stay.”

“Just one drink,” Chad interjects. “Relax, I’m not gonna steal your date.”

“Stay.” There’s a plea in Dex’s eyes that makes me start to pull my hand back from Chad, but Chad tightens his grip and pulls me to my feet.

“Just one drink,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to charm me. “He’ll be okay without you. He gets plenty of company. I want a little time with you.”

“I made plans with my friends tonight. It would be rude if I left.”

“Maybe later then.”

“Yeah, maybe later,” I reply and sit back down.

As he walks away, Dex’s hand covers my knee. “Stay away from him. He’s an asshole.”

“That was uncomfortable. What’s the history between you two?”

Dex sits back and looks over his shoulder at Chad across the room. “We went to high school together.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. He was an asshole then, too.”

“Let me guess. Star quarterback, dated all the hot girls, Class President?”

He chuckles. “Something like that.”

“Tell me about you,” I say. “Give me all the dirty details of when you were younger.”

“The past doesn’t matter, Rochelle. Only tonight.”

His words and his eyes, the way they’ve latched onto mine, possession taking hold, I’m shocked I’m still upright. My body is flooded with want for him and I quickly reach for my drink to cool myself down. I close my eyes and sip. When I open them, I find myself gravitating even closer to him, pressed to his side. I whisper, “You can’t say things like that to me, Dex.”

His hand warms my leg and he leans in until I feel his words cover my skin. “Why not?”

Just as I’m about to answer with that there is no reason or maybe with a kiss, we’re interrupted by a group of women. “You’re with The Resistance. Can we have your autograph and a picture?”

She shoves a napkin and a pen in front of him. As he scribbles his name, my gaze meets Lara’s across the table and our silent conversation begins. Her lips purse and her eyebrows are raised. She signals toward Dex with a nod, questioning.

He’s hot and I don’t know, I guess I like his attention. I like him. I say all that through a guilty smile and a playful shrug.

Looking at Tommy, she leans in and tells him something. He jumps and sits on top of the booth. “You need another?” He asks me from across the table.

“Yes. Thanks.”

Slipping out of the booth, he leans in when he passes and says, “You guys be careful. Okay? You know what happened last time.”

I’m not sure if he’s giving me advice or warning me. I know he cares about both of us and his concern is showing tonight. Understandable worry since he’s had to watch Dex and I flirt so much tonight.

Suddenly I have a bare midriff with a temporary tattoo of gold hearts circling her belly button pressing against my shoulder as one of the girls pushes in. She’s trying to get closer to Dex… as if I’m not even here. When I turn, my head jerks back. I get more than an eyeful of breasts because of her low cut shirt. I lean closer to Dex to get away from her, but she presses in even more.

Jealousy wells up inside and I shake my head, trying to rid myself of it. It’s ridiculous I feel anything remotely close to that emotion when it comes to him. This is Dex. He’s a free man. Our flirtations were harmless, just hanging out like we have for years. Then I realize we haven’t really hung out like this before. Sure, we’ve partied many times in the same group of friends and I’ve gone out a million times with the band, but this is different. This is me hanging out with Dex specifically… and Lara and Tommy, of course, but I know deep down I wanted to spend time with Dex.

Lara taps my shoulder. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

We slip out of the booth and with the girl vying for Dex’s attention, I’m not even sure he notices we’re leaving, which bothers me. Ugh. I follow Lara to the restroom where girls line the hallway, waiting impatiently.

“What’s going on?” she asks. “You seem upset.”

I lie. “I’m not upset.”

She looks at me and then bursts out laughing. “So that girl hanging on Dex’s every breath doesn’t bother you at all?”

Tweaking my lips to the side, I say, “Nope.”

We move up a few spots in line. “Okay, keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll start to believe it.”

“I’m not lying to myself. Dex is Dex. I’ve known him for years and he’s definitely not someone I should get involved with.”

She stands on her tiptoes and looks ahead. Only two more people until we’re at the front of the line. When she spins around, she says, “Look, you mention him all faux-casual while shopping the other day. Now we’re here with him tonight. I saw how you watched him during the show and how he looked at you backstage. If you guys aren’t attracted to each other, then I have no idea what’s going on. But if you ask me, you have feelings for him. I know you feel guilty for having them, but your heart doesn’t feel guilt. That’s all in your head. You aren’t doing anything wrong. If anything, you’re doing what’s right.”

“So follow my heart?”

Shrugging, she says, “Beats letting the guilt win.”

The line moves and my boldness peaks. “You’re right. I may regret this in the morning, but I’m ready to see if there’s more between us.”

“He’s also damn sexy. You were right. That haircut is making him even more irresistible.”

When we walk out of the bathroom, I’m feeling determined. The only thing that holds me back, stopping me in my tracks is the girl who has slid into the booth next to him taking my spot. She’s so close with her arm around the back of him, and I detour, letting Lara return without me. I stop behind a column and peek back, not spying, just checking to see if it’s safe to return. Lara’s looking for me and Dex downs his drink.

“Couldn’t hide his stripes for long.” Chad is next to me, both of us watching Dex from afar. “Dex may not be snorting his fortune anymore, but he’s still the same guy, Rochelle.”

“Not now, Chad,” I say, starting to walk away.

He stops me, by taking my hand in his. “Hey, I know you’ve had a hard time the last few years, but Dex isn’t the answer. He’s the problem. You deserve better—”

Rolling my eyes, I retort, “You mean someone like you?”

He laughs. “I’m not perfect, but at least you know what you’re getting with me.”

His arrogance is getting on my nerves, but his cockiness still fascinates me equally. “And what is that exactly?”

Rubbing his chest with pride, he says, “The rumors are true.”

“The rumors? And which rumors would those be?”

“I’m the best fuck in Hollywood—”

“What did you just say, Spears?” Dex startles us, his body hard against my back, his breathing jagged.

Chad stands, his ego making him brave. “Fuck off, Caggiano. Go back to your whores and hookers. The grown-ups are trying to have a conversation here.”

“You’ve always been such a fucking prick, but now you’re just a sad asshole too.”

“This sad asshole gets more pussy than you can dream of.”

Dex looks at me and if I’m not mistaken, I see disappointment residing there. “C’mon, Rochelle. I’m ready to leave.”

Taking my own stance on the matter, I say, “Maybe I’m not.”

His eyes narrow on me, puzzled. “You want to stay here with him?”

“Beats being the third wheel over there.”

My words shake him, taking him aback like a slap across the face. He leans down, eye-to-eye with me. “You could never be a third wheel. Not to me.” My breath catches from his intensity and he adds, “Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” I reply, believing the truth I see in his eyes.

“I will always treat you how you deserve.” With promises swirling around us, Chad and the other girl are forgotten and our own world seems to form. “I want you to come with me,” Dex says, sincerity on his face and heard in his words.

I take his hand and we leave together not knowing where this will lead to, but knowing that right now, tonight, this is right.