The guilt of walking away from Tess yesterday is more than I want on my shoulders. I thought I was doing the right thing, but the way my mind is replaying what happened between us says otherwise. The way my heart aches in my chest tells me I made a huge mistake.

When I woke up and saw her sleeping there, I had no idea what to do. My body sure as hell wanted me to wake her up and repeat everything we’d done the night before, but my brain told me to walk away. My heart didn’t seem to have an opinion, because it was too busy being ripped apart by my conscious.

Now? Now I feel like shit. And the third beer I’m on hasn’t numbed any of the swirling thoughts in my skull. Maybe another one will. Maybe something stronger will finally do the trick.

I used to tell myself that alcohol isn’t the answer, but it seems pretty logical now.

“What are you doing, kid?” Marty asks, taking away the empty bottle from in front of me.

I wouldn’t talk to him when I first came in besides telling him my order. Marty has always been the observer. He doesn’t need to hear you talk to know something is wrong. When I ordered my second beer, it only cemented the truth.

“Another beer, Marty,” I tell him. Or, I think I tell him that. For all I know, it comes out slurred.

Marty looks at me. “Drinking ain’t going to solve a damn thing.”

“I know that,” I mumble.

“Then you don’t need another.”

“But I want one.”

“You want to forget,” he argues, giving me a scolding look. “You’re going to remember it the next day no matter how much you drink. So, what’d you do?”

I frown. “What makes you think I did something?”

He gives me the eye. “You’re a man. We’re idiots. At least, I am. Done things I wish I could drink away. Tried to. It didn’t work. Believe me, kid. You ain’t going to solve anything by drinking her away.”

Her.

Tessa.

I sigh. “You don’t know it’s about Tessa.”

“It’s always about a girl.”

“Says who?”

“Every country song every written,” he muses.

I can’t help but laugh at that.

“I did something stupid,” I confess, leaning my head against my hand, which is perched on the counter.

He rolls his eyes. “Figured as much.”

“Slept with her,” I murmur, voice so low I almost don’t even hear myself say it. Maybe because I don’t want it to be true, because then this will have been a dream. Something to forget. Something to go back from.

But it’s not.

Marty huffs. “Not sure I want to know about that, kid.”

“You asked.”

“Thought maybe you said something.”

“I said I was sorry.”

Confusion crosses his face. “Huh?”

I sigh loudly. “I said I was sorry and I left.”

“You mean after?”

I nod sadly. “I didn’t tell her. I texted her.”

His eyes widen. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” I close my eyes. “I screwed up.”

He’s silent for a minute. “Okay …” He clears his throat. “Let me ask you this, kid. Did you say sorry for doing it? For sleeping with her?”

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.

“Did you say you’re sorry for leaving?”

I don’t even know the answer.

“I don’t know,” I grumble, running my hands through my hair, making the already messy tresses worse.

A new body sits beside me.

“What’s wrong with him?” an unwanted familiar voice asks Marty.

I groan loudly. “Go away.”

Ian snorts. “Not likely. My night just got infinitely more interesting.”

I glare at him. “What? No girl interested in your dick tonight?”

He grins, unfazed. “I have plenty of girls who want my dick, but I’m not feeling it tonight. So, what’s your deal? What happened with Tess?”

My jaw ticks.

Why does everyone assume something happened with Tess?

“Your silence only piques my interest,” he tells me, leaning forward against the counter. “I got to say, my imagination is taking me to very intriguing places.”

I shoot him a look. “Don’t think about her.”

He puts his hands up. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why do you care?” I demand coolly.

“Because Tess is my friend,” he replies casually, shrugging. “And I don’t like to see her hurt. And as much as you don’t want to hear it, I consider you a friend, too. Always have, actually.”

I stare at him like he’s nuts, because he has to be. Since when have we been friends over the past few years? We stopped talking a long time ago.

He looks at Marty. “Mind if I have a beer? Bud Light?”

Nodding, Marty grabs one from under the counter and puts the bottle in front of Ian.

Ian picks up his drink and looks at me. “I get that you’re territorially over Tess. I would be too if I were as close with her as you are. But guess what, Will? I’m not. Never have been, never will be. She’s yours, and she always has been.”

I want to say something snarky in return, but I’ve got nothing. So I shake my head instead. “We’re not friends, Ian. Haven’t been for a long time.”

“Because of Tess,” he concludes, tilting the bottle back and taking a drink. He sets it on the counter. “You don’t like that her and I get along.” It’s not a question.

“You know damn well that isn’t the only reason,” I all but growl.

He snorts. “Seriously, Will? How long has it been since that night happened? It’s been three years—”

“You shouldn’t have done it!” I snap bitterly.

“You’re just angry it wasn’t you first,” he argues, voice level and matter-of-fact.

I don’t want him to be right.

But he is.

“Mind filling in the clueless guy?” Marty intervenes, glancing back and forth between us.

“You don’t want to know,” I mutter, averting my gaze. My eyes go to the few people gathered in the booth in the far back corner of the bar. They’re all laughing and having a good time.

Something I wish I could be having.

Ian tells him anyway. “Will is angry that I took his bestie’s virginity when she was eighteen.”

Marty grumbles to himself about needing to stop asking questions that aren’t his business.

I can’t help but agree with him.

“Is that seriously why you’ve been so against me being around?” Ian doubts, as if it’s a farfetched reason to dislike him.

“It’s justifiable.”

“It’s petty.”

I glare at him. “You’re just pissed that not everybody in this tiny ass town doesn’t kiss the ground you walk on.”

Ian stares at me for a second, studying my expression. He chuckles, as if I said something funny. “You know what, Will? I get that I’m cocky. I fully admit to being conceited, and loving the attention I get. I’ve always been self-centered like that. We both know that. You know, from back when we were friends? And despite your pity party, I’ve always been your friend. Even when you warned me away from Tess and then stopped talking to me. Want to why?” I don’t answer. “Because I respect you.”

My brows furrow in confusion.

He takes a sip of his beer again, holding the neck of the bottle tight in his hand. “Yeah, shocker. Why would a big, bad rock star respect a small-town farm boy, huh? Unlike a lot of idiots who make it big, I don’t forget where I come from or who helped me make my name. And you’re a part of that, Will. Shit, you had the chance to come with us and be just as big as the rest of Relentless. But you didn’t. You stayed here to help your family, and that’s respectable. That’s why I respect you.”

I don’t say anything. What can I say? That the pompous ass I’ve been grumbling about since he came back almost two months ago is actually a decent guy? Part of me knows that. The other part of me wants to hold onto a reason to hate him and everything he does.

But here he is, my old friend. His pre-fame personality shining through the shell of the man that the newspapers and paparazzi made. Sure, he’s always had a big head; he’s always gone after what he wanted, and typically always got it. He’s self-centered, like he was back in school.

But dammit, he is a good guy.

And he respects me.

I shake my head, raking my hand through my hair. “I really want to hate you,” I admit, sighing.

He laughs. “I know, bro. But you don’t have it in you. You’ve always been a lover not a hater. Despite the pissing war we’ve had, I can see you haven’t changed. You just don’t want to lose her to somebody else.”

I make a face. Too late for that.

He clasps the back of my shoulder with his hand. “I think it’s time we figure out how to help your sorry ass get her finally.”

I stare at the counter. “I don’t think I can.”

“She’s smitten with you,” he retorts. “It won’t be hard.”

Marty chuckles. “The mess he made is going to make it a little more difficult than sprouting pretty words and a giving her chocolates.”

Ian’s eyes narrow. “Seriously, what did you do?”

I hesitate, but end up telling him everything. Part of me hopes it will ease some of the guilt in my chest. I mean, he’s had to of messed up like this this before. Maybe even worse.

But the expression on his face tells me otherwise.

Shit.

Marty surprises me by setting a beer in front of me.

“Normally, I’d cut you off and tell you to go home,” he says, giving me a sympathetic smile. “But you’re gonna need that, kid. ’Cause you messed up pretty bad.”

I gape at him. Leave it to Marty to give it to you straight. I don’t know what I expected. He’s never beat around the bush before. Why is now any different?

Ian clinks his drink against mine. “He’s right. Not even I’ve done something stupid like that.”

I give him a doubtful look.

“Hey,” he replies, shrugging. “The girls I get with know it’s a one-time thing. There’s no morning cuddles or promise for breakfast. But you, my friend, are nothing like me. The girls you’re with, Tess especially, deserve all that happy feel-good shit.

“I know.” My voice is defeated, and my shoulders slump. God, do I know.

Tess deserves a lot of things, and I meant that when I told her. I’m not sure I can give those things to her though. I don’t have the money that Ian does. I don’t have the confidence that he does. He can swoop in anytime he wants and be the guy that she should be with.

“Don’t worry,” Ian says, snapping me from my train of thought. “We’re going to fix this.”

“We?” I repeat.

He grins. “Yes, we. You and me. Hell, the guys will even help. They’ve been away doing their own things for break, but I know they’d like to see you. They’d want to help.”

Marty leans on the counter. “And how do you propose fixing this?”

Ian leans back, his arm draping on the back of his stool. “It won’t be easy, but I’ve got a plan. In fact, I’m helping out another buddy and might just be able to help you at the same time.”

Marty and I both wait for him to elaborate.

Ian finishes off his beer. “Relentless is doing a benefit in two weeks. It’s at the fairground.”

“I heard about that,” Marty says, nodding in acknowledgement.

“I haven’t,” I admit.

“That’s because you get all pissy when my name is involved with something,” he states. He isn’t wrong. “Anyway, we’re raising money for a good cause. We’ve already put some of our online merchandise up for sale, and the proceeds from that go to the benefit we’re supporting.”

“So … how does this help him?” Marty asks doubtfully, gesturing toward where I’m slumped over in my seat.

Turning to face me, Ian winks. “First, you’re going to have to admit it, Will.”

“Admit what?”

“That you need my help.”

Of course he wants me to admit it.

“And you want to help me?” I question, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I wouldn’t waste my time if I didn’t,” he informs me, pushing the empty bottle away. “Despite what you think, I don’t want Tessa the same way you do. She’s my friend. Strictly my friend. And even if I was interested, she wouldn’t reciprocate.”

I frown, because I highly doubt that’s true.

I know Tess, and I know how much she looks up to Ian. With his reputation, I wouldn’t blame her if she were interested.

Doesn’t make me want to punch him less just admitting that though.

He stands up, putting a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “She’s got it bad, Will. And not for me. There’s no way that she sees anybody but you.”

Her words echo in my head. It was always you, even when it shouldn’t have been.

I put my head in my hand. “After what happened, I doubt that’ll be true.”

Ian shakes his head. “You know Tess better than anybody, bro. Better than me. She forgives people, no matter the stupidity they put her through. Like, I don’t know, leaving a text saying you regret sleeping with them.”

My eye twitches. “I didn’t say that.”

“You said you were sorry,” he points out.

“That’s not saying I regret it.”

Ian and Marty share a look. When Ian turns back to me, his face deadpans. “You’re clueless, man. Saying your sorry is practically saying, ‘Oh, my bad! I didn’t mean to stick my dick in you’.”

I cringe.

Marty winces. “That’s a bit extreme.”

I agree one hundred percent.

“It’s not,” Ian disagrees. “Not in a girl’s mind. What would you think if you got that text from her, huh? Where does your mind go when you think about somebody apologizing to you about that?”

My shoulders drop, and so does my hope.

“I’d think she was apologizing for sleeping with me,” I answer dryly.

He just nods.

“I don’t.” My voice is quiet, but firm. I don’t regret sleeping with Tess. I regret messing up any inkling of friendship we had.

But leaving … leaving is what messed that up.

I get that now.

Groaning, I rake a hand through my hair for the millionth time. I’m sure it’s sticking up every which way now.

I promised her I’d stay, and I didn’t.

I broke my promise.

“On a Taylor Swift song level, how pissed at me is she?” I inquire, afraid of the answer I’ll get.

Ian gives me a sympathetic look. “I’d say you’re somewhere between ‘Picture to Burn’ and ‘We Are Never Getting Back Together’.”

I curse.

I’m screwed. Totally and utterly screwed.

The radio silence we’ve had between us says it all. I screwed up big time. And if I don’t fix it somehow, I don’t know if we’ll ever be the same. So yeah, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I need Ian and his idea. Whatever the idea may be.

I lift my gaze to meet his, eyes distant, heart aching.

“I need your help.”

He grins. “Like music to my ears.”