“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I clutched the phone to my ear where I sat on the edge of my bed. Just the haze of morning teased at the windows, and Charlie’s voice was groggy with the sleep my call had pulled him from.

“Come on, sugar. You really think I’m that helpless?” he teased, and I could almost see him on his back in his bed, tugging at the end of his ratty beard, looking to the ceiling with a smile. Wouldn’t be all that surprised if five seconds from now he showed up at my door to help me pack my bags.

“I just don’t like the thought of leaving you in the lurch. You know that’s not my style.”

“Yeah…know exactly what your style is. Holing up behind my bar, pretending like you’re happy there. Like you belong there. When you and I both know that’s the farthest from the truth.”

“Charlie…” I begged. A shiver raced down the skin of my bare back, chasing after Lyrik’s callused fingertip that traced my spine.

“Go, Tamar,” Charlie urged quietly. “Haven’t ever seen you light up the way you do around him. Not ever. Not once. Not gonna act like I know all the details of your story, sugar. Your secrets. But I’m no fool, and I know they’re there. Also know when that one’s around, suddenly it doesn’t seem all that important for you to hide behind them anymore. Go. Find out if he’s the one you’ve been looking for.”

Gratitude became one with the lingering fear concealed beneath my ribs. “Thank you.”

“Family first, Tamar.”

Did Charlie have the first clue what his words did to me? The way they made my insides leap and soar, memories abounding in my mind, spurring me forward.

Toward home.

God, I missed them. Missed their faces and their laughter. The way my mother would look at me as if she already knew what I was thinking before I ever said a word. As if she understood what was happening inside me before I recognized it myself.

The need to be brave had grown so acute, I could feel the faint grasp of the hands of time dragging me back. But once where I’d feared they would hold me down, I now somehow knew they would set me free.

But it was taking the first step that was the hardest.

It was the idea of standing in front of Cameron again that had me drowning in a spiraling wave of panic.

Swiveling, I looked over my shoulder at Lyrik. The gorgeous man was on his back.

In my bed.

That shock of black hair was unruly and wild where he rested on my pillow. My sheets were a jumble of twists and knots where we’d been tangled for the couple hours of sleep we’d managed throughout the night.

Now, in the early morning light, they barely covered his slim waist, revealing his torso and arms and neck where bold ink scripted his fathomless story.

And I wondered…I wondered if there was room for more.

If he had a waiting, unmarked space for me or if all his pages had already been written.

Because I ached to fill him the way he had filled me.

“Is it weird we’re doing this?” I asked.

Shifting, Lyrik curled his arms around my waist and brushed a kiss to my hip, before he turned that haunted gaze up at me. “Weird? No. Stupid? Yeah.”

I blinked through a new onslaught of confusion. “Stupid?”

He hugged me tighter. “Blue…being with you…it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve done in a long, long time. Reckless. Just begging for trouble. So fucking selfish. Taking more of you when both of us know I can’t keep you. But right now, I don’t know how to stop.”

I moved to straddle him, my hands on his shoulders, our bodies aligned.

Lyrik grunted and gripped me by the hips as he guided me onto him.

“I don’t want you to stop,” I whispered down to him.

Never, never stop.

Even if it was stupid.

Because love makes you do stupid things.

An hour and a half later, the car pulled up to the private terminal at Hilton Head Airport. The sun climbed the eastern horizon, rays stretching out to embrace the top of the lush copse of trees outlining the area, the green leaves dusted with dew sparkling like Christmas lights.

Everyone else was already there, gathered around the small chartered jet waiting on us.

I pushed out a nervous breath and glanced at the dark, foreboding man sitting at my side, that delicious mouth quirked up in a knowing smirk, before returning my gaze to the ridiculous show of money flaunted in front of us.

Butterflies assaulted my stomach.

I got the distinct feeling I was about to enter the world of Lyrik I knew nothing about, other than those few glances I’d been granted. The few fans who’d recognized him at the bar. Anthony’s beachside mansion. The magazine stories I’d read and the entertainment headlines that had caught my eye.

“Do you guys always go overboard like this?”

Lyrik laughed lightly. “Nah…but it sure is nice when we do.”

I looked at him, feigned, wide innocent eyes. “It must be so rough when you subject yourself to commercial first-class instead. The atrocity.”

This time it was a thick roll of laughter that left him, before he edged forward and gripped my chin to keep me looking at him. He pressed his nose to mine. “You gonna sit over there and give me a hard time when I was so kind to invite you along? Spoil you with a bit of luxury? Get you backstage to a show?”

Those dark eyes flashed with mischief, a toying threat that sent those butterflies scattering. “I mean, we do know how you like your boys tattooed and screaming, don’t we?”

His lips touched mine. Briefly. Wickedly.

I struggled for a breath.

He leaned back, raked his teeth over his bottom lip.

On all things holy. No man should look that good or have the power to effect women that way.

He cocked his head. “Now are you comin’ or stayin’?”

Gone were the shadows that’d haunted his eyes last night. In their place was the ruthless man edged with this boyish excitement that skimmed the expression on his face. I couldn’t help but feel that way, too.

“Oh, I’m definitely coming.”

Chuckling, he shook his head and unlatched his door. “That’s what I thought.”

Lyrik unloaded our bags from the trunk, grabbing hold of his guitar case and passing me my camera bag. I slung it over my shoulder and followed close behind as he wheeled our suitcases toward our friends.

Shea was grinning when I approached. Her baby belly had grown huge, and she glowed with joy.

I itched to capture the moment, that old need flooding me like a sea cave swilling with the rising tide.

“I can’t believe you’re coming with us,” she squealed as she rushed forward and threw her arms around me. She rocked me in a hug as if she hadn’t seen me for ages. She suddenly leaned in close and spoke so no one else could hear. “It’s so good to have you back.”

Was it possible she read me that easily? That she saw right through the stony façade?

She released me just as quickly. Her words increased in volume as if she were speaking to the entire crowd. “This is going to be the best weekend ever. I always get stuck with all you boys. About time there’s another girl there to keep me company.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Shea.” I could feel Lyrik’s presence invading me from behind. “Blue here? She’s on board for a weekend with me. Not you.”

Over my shoulder, I tossed Lyrik a bewildered look. “What are you talking about? You told me Shea was coming. That’s the only reason I agreed.”

Lyrik wrapped me in his arms, his front to my back. “Is that so?” he questioned, pressing himself a little closer. Teasing me with that body he knew left me defenseless.

“Well…I guess I don’t mind spending a little bit of time with you, too.”

By the hand, he spun me around. The entirety of that pretty face lifted in a smirk. “Don’t mind, huh? You sure didn’t seem to mind all that much last night.” He edged closer, voice dropping. “Or this mornin’, for that matter.”

I giggled.

Giggled.

Oh. God.

Undone.

That’s the way he’d left me.

He swatted my butt. “Now get that sweet ass on the plane.”

With a tiny yelp, I jumped right into his arms. A tumble of excited and joyous nerves skated through my body. Then Lyrik slowed, cupped my cheek as he gazed down at me, then kissed me gently.

Moments like these? They were the ones that left me a mixed-up, muddled mess.

Because they were the times when it felt like more.

“Come on,” he whispered. Turning, he led me by the hand toward the stairs the rest of the guys and Shea were already climbing.

Well, except for Ash.

He leaned up against the bottom of the railing, arms crossed over his wide chest.

Lyrik passed him, started up the stairs.

Ash gave us a look that was both mocking and sincere.

How the hell did the guy manage that?

“I trust the two of you had a pleasurable evening last night?” he asked. His grin grew in time with the lift of his brow.

Lyrik threw him a look riddled with daggers and knives. “Don’t fucking start, man.”

Ash smiled, shrugged innocently. “Not starting anything. The two of you just look a little cozier than you did last night, that’s all. Can’t a guy make an observation?”

“Not that kind, he can’t,” Lyrik warned, but it was lighter than I expected, his voice carrying as he climbed higher, hauling me up behind him.

Low laughter rolled from Ash as he took to the steps behind us. “I’m just not the type of guy who goes burying his head in the sand. Not fool enough to miss what’s right in front of me.”

Lyrik didn’t look back, just clenched my hand a little tighter in his hold.

Warily, I glanced back at Ash with a scowl. To ask him once to lay off the ribbing.

I was feeling protective of the shaky relationship Lyrik and I had, if you could call it that at all. I sure as hell had no idea what to label this.

One minute I’d accepted I would never touch him again and the next I was boarding a plane to spend the weekend in L.A. with him, visiting his family of all things.

But more than that? I was feeling protective of Lyrik.

It was difficult enough for us to maneuver it, wading through uncharted territory. I got the feeling neither of us were sure when one step would be the wrong one. The one that would backfire and incite a chain reaction leading to the end.

Or maybe like that picture, it’d be one disastrous explosion.

But Ash’s expression was so much different than I expected. His smile soft. Kind as his attention drifted to the back of Lyrik’s head, steady as it latched back on me.

Telling.

He needs you as much as you need him.

Do you see?

Don’t give up. Don’t let go.

I guess it was the knowledge I wouldn’t be the one making that decision that caused the throbbing ache to flare in my gut.

So I was no money-grubbing whore, but I’d be lying if I said flying across country in a private jet wasn’t the way to go. The flight was filled with laughter and chatter and unending mimosas, the time so comfortable and natural it was easy to convince myself this was where I belonged.

The guys had jumped into what amounted to an acoustic practice session, running through the set they would play tonight. We stopped for the fastest layover in history to refuel before we were back in the air, then what felt like moments later we were descending yet again.

Los Angeles.

I wrung my hands as I was hit with a rush of jitters.

How crazy, this was supposed to be my home. The place where I’d led everyone to believe I grew up, because it’d been the first city that’d come to mind when Charlie had asked where I was from. It was a familiar place because my family had visited many times for vacations—only an eight-hour drive from the desert city I’d fled four years ago.

I gazed out the small jet window at the jungle of buildings and roads that quickened to meet us from below.

“Are you going to visit any of your family while you’re back in town?”

Shea’s question pulled me from my trance, and I jerked her direction. Her brown eyes were curious. As if she’d plucked the guilty thoughts right from my head and pointed to my past that got harder and harder to escape the closer I came.

Lyrik looked over at me, too.

Expectantly.

As if maybe since I was going to visit his family, it would only make sense he go to visit mine, too.

Shit. What had I gotten myself into? But I’d known it was coming all along.

The decision.

Run or confront.

But right then I didn’t have the strength to step from this limbo, so instead I shook off the haze. Forced a smile and cleared my throat.

“No.” I tilted my head at Lyrik. “The trip is short and Lyrik and I are going to visit his family before the show tonight. I doubt there’s time.”

That in itself should have been enough to make me rethink this whole thing. Label it a really freaking bad idea. The thought of showing up at Lyrik’s childhood home without a clue about them or who they were. Being in the dark, not privy or partner to the events that haunted Lyrik, a stranger to what had bred his impervious heart.

A heavy sigh pushed from my lungs. I needed to stop this train of thought before I made more out of this weekend than there actually was.

Lyrik frowned. “We haven’t gotten you a ticket to go home yet. We can make time for you to visit your family if you want.”

But his words were laden with caution, because only this boy had been allowed to peek over the walls I’d surrounded myself with. Into the place where I harbored my secrets. Now he held the key to completely expose them.

My forced smile trembled, and it was as if he knew. As if he could read me. It simmered around us. The trust that bound us so blatantly clear.

With that deadly smile, he looked at Shea. His words slid out in obvious innuendo. “Pretty sure I’m going to be keeping our girl Tamar here busy all weekend.”

But that smile was so utterly soft when he turned it back on me.

Sebastian curled his arms around his wife and whispered something in her ear.

Swiveling into his hold, Shea kissed him.

And that was it, topic diverted.

I was saved.

We landed and debarked. An extra-long, black SUV was waiting to pick us up. Lyrik and I crawled into the very back seat, and he wound me in his arms, our sides pressed together as I rested my head on his shoulder. As if we’d done it a thousand times and I was his and he was mine and this was the way it was always going to be.

Under the blue California sky, grayed at the distant horizon with smog, we headed in the direction of the Sunder house.

It was surreal, to say the least.

The number of times I’d listened to their songs, the number of times I’d escaped into the sanctuary of Lyrik’s voice as it played from my speakers, while I’d listened and dreamed he were the one person in the world with the ability to understand me.

Crazy how it turned out he was.

Fate.

God.

I was such a fool. A complete, utter fool. Because that’s what I wanted it to be.

The city flashed by in a blur of freeways and buildings and stop-and-go traffic, dotted with landmarks that became more and more familiar the closer we came to The Hills. The driver finally exited the freeway and drove us through West Hollywood.

My face was nearly plastered to the side window to take in the scenery.

I cringed. I probably looked like some kind of fangirl, overeager to catch one glimpse of the glitter and limelight that went hand in hand with this city.

But this was me. The old me. The little girl who’d watched the world with wide, innocent eyes. In anticipation and wonder before she found so much of it was actually filled with horror.

I felt his warmth close over me, and from behind, Lyrik slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. He spoke so low, no one else in the car could hear. “Seems to me, for someone coming home, you’re awfully awed by your surroundings.”

A soft gasp fell from me, and I turned to look at him, at the intuition glinting in the gold flecks of his eyes.

This boy who knew me like no one else.

Slowly, I shook my head.

No.

I wasn’t home.

But I could be.

He exhaled as if releasing some of his reservations, or maybe in acceptance. Then he slung his arm around my shoulder and pulled me against his solid chest and the steady beat of his heart.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

I’d once thought it a stampede of destruction.

But no.

It was a chant of safety and security and perfection.

The driver took the winding road leading up into The Hills. It was a place only familiar in movies and in pictures conjured in my mind.

I could only imagine who and what was stowed away behind the rock walls and iron gates, nestled behind the garage faces that seemed so innocuous where they’d been constructed close to the road, camouflaging the homes built on the other side.

The SUV turned left into a driveway tucked away near the top. It led to a massive two-story house sheltered by soaring trees and lush gardens.

We stopped on the cobblestone drive in front of the expansive double doors, the stucco of the exterior walls warm and welcoming. This was where this hard, threatening man sought reprieve from the hustle of his glittering lifestyle within the city below. It was a world apart from the place I expected.

For all of them, really.

I guess the outside could truly be misleading.

Lyrik nudged his nose at my ear. “We’re home.”

* * *

“Favorite grade in school?”

“Um…” Memories thumbed through my mind like snapshots in an album. It didn’t take me long to land on the correct one. “Sixth.”

“Why?” Lyrik asked, stealing a glance at me before he looked back to the road.

Redness swept my cheeks.

Shit.

Now I was blushing? Lyrik really had busted down all the barriers.

“Because that was my first year of middle school. They had a photography club that met twice a week after school. I could barely sit still during class on those days, I was so anxious to get in that darkroom where I could develop the pictures I’d taken that week.”

At a red light, he brought his big, rumbling truck to a stop, one he’d left waiting for him in L.A.

Reaching across the middle console, he grabbed my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “It’s always been your dream, yeah? Pictures?”

Joy filtered through me like a soft breeze. “Yeah…at least since I understood what dreams were.”

I turned the question on him. “What was yours?”

He’d returned to gripping the steering wheel, those tattooed hands wrapped around the leather, the words stamped on his knuckles bold against the other swirling designs.

Sing my soul.

And it was my soul that sang when a lock of that black hair flopped to the side as he gazed across at me, that menacing, beautiful boy looking so powerful behind the wheel of his truck, before he pressed on the gas when the light turned green.

Damn, he was doing crazy things to me.

Crazy, lovely, beautiful things.

By the way he looked at me, there was no question both of us were on uneven ground.

Walking a rope that was tight. High and harrowing.

While our feet felt agile enough to take us at a sprint.

“Ninth grade.” He quirked a brow. Those red lips spread like seduction. “Finally got the girl.”

A twinge of possessiveness hit me, and his grin only widened as it turned teasing and coy. “Been packing her around with me ever since. My constant companion. She comes with me to every city, is at my side through every show. She’s getting a little old and worn, but I love her all the same.”

His meaning dawned on me. With playful laughter, I smacked his arm. “Are you trying to make me jealous of your guitar?”

His eyes widened. “Did it work?”

“Maybe…she does seem to be your favorite.”

“That she is.”

“Who got her for you?” I asked.

His smile softened. “My mom. My fourteenth birthday. I’d worked all summer saving up for it, but I didn’t come close to making a dent. Turned out she’d been picking up extra shifts all along so she could give it to me for my birthday.”

“She didn’t tell you what she was doing?”

He shook his head. “Nah. She wanted to see me work for it. For it to mean something when I finally had it. She always wanted me to understand the best things take effort.”

“Did it? Mean something?”

I already knew the answer. But I wanted to hear him say it. For him to let me in a little further.

His spirit dimmed, and he shifted in discomfort. “It meant everything until it cost me everything.”

In confusion, my brows drew together. “I don’t get it, Lyrik. It’s like everything is wrapped up in your band. The guys are your family, and then in the next breath, it seems like you view it as the greatest burden. Does it not make you happy?”

A sigh filtered from his nose. “I don’t know, Blue. It does. We all worked so damned hard for it, and being on stage…writing songs and having people sing them back to you like they get what you were trying to say? There’s something indescribable about that moment, when you catch someone’s expression while they’re mouthing the words in the crowd. And you think for a fleeting moment they get it. That they’re feeling the exact same thing you felt when you wrote it. Feeling like it just might make a difference. But everything comes with a cost.”

“And you regret paying it?” I hedged, digging in deeper, knowing I was traversing dangerous ground. But God, I wanted to know. I needed to understand if I stood any chance of taking some of it away.

He raked an uneasy hand through his hair, the words choked, barely making their way free. “Wasn’t really left with much of a choice.”

Chaos whipped through me with his admission.

His.

Mine.

Our storms gaining speed. Building and intensifying and baring down. Their paths set on a collision course.

I watched the thick roll of his throat as he swallowed hard, his attention trained on the road. “It was all the choices I made leading up to it that stole it. What ruined it. Warned you I did, Blue. I always take the little bits of good I’m given and wreck them. Don’t know anything else.”

His confession trembled with vehemence. It left me unsure if he’d intended the words for me.

Tentatively, I reached out and touched his arm. “Your songs…they made a difference to me.”

You make a difference to me.

I wished I were brave enough to say it.

Brave.

I wanted to be.

He looked at me, that gorgeous face stricken with pain. “Where’re you from, Blue?”

My entire being flinched, and slowly I shook my head. “Not here.”

“Think I already figured that out.”

He was the first person since I’d run who’d sought me out. Searching to find the girl buried beneath the rubble—those tumbled stones covered in brash and hard and bitch.

“Tucson,” I finally admitted toward my lap. So low I was sure there was no chance he could hear.

“Arizona,” he responded softly. Obviously mostly for confirmation, because he was nodding slowly, as if he were trying to compartmentalize what I was telling him. Committing it to his reality.

He cut those penetrating eyes toward me. “Why hide?”

For a second, I squeezed mine shut, trying to make sense of things. Finally, I looked back at him, at his profile, at the hard, defined curve of his jaw to the soft pout of his mouth. “What are we doing, Lyrik?”

“Talking,” he said, but from the way he blanched, he clearly knew I was asking more.

Maybe it was simply because Lyrik was driving us toward his childhood home that reminded him we really didn’t know all that much about each other. Both of us were ignorant of the tiny, inconsequential details of the other’s lives that added together to become something significant.

The foundations of who we were.

I guessed it was the sum of them, the huge consequence the decisions we had made along the way, that somehow drove the biggest wedge between us. All of it was held back, yet building from below, like magma compressed by a million years of pressure.

Waiting to erupt.

Humorless laughter rolled from him. “You know, sometimes I look at you, and I get this feeling…right here…”

Twice, he knocked the knuckles of his fist at the center of his chest. “Like I know you better than anyone. Like you know me better than anyone. And fuck, Blue…I fucking like the way that feels.”

His voice dropped into a guilty whisper. “And I want more of it. To know you better.” Warily, he turned my way. “And that’s what scares me most.”

At another stoplight, I met the intensity of his gaze. I knew in that moment, this untouchable boy was the most vulnerable he’d ever been. Splayed open wide. For the briefest flash of a second, everything exposed to be seen. As if he were pleading for a reprieve from his demons. For a real chance to be touched.

“I hid because when I ran, I ran for my life.” My words cracked. “And I never believed in all that time it was safe to turn around.”

Faster than I could process, his big hand was on the back of my head, his thumb running along my jaw. “I’ll keep you safe, Blue. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not ever again.”

We stared at each other, both of us prisoners to whatever was happening around us. Binding us. We jumped with the blare of the horn coming from behind.

Lyrik jerked his hand away and accelerated.

Silence filled the cab, restless and agitated.

We both knew he’d crossed an invisible line. I’ll keep you safe, Blue. No one’s gonna hurt you. Not ever again.

I stared out the window at the neighborhoods we passed. The homes had become smaller, interspersed by apartment buildings that appeared a bit rundown as we drew closer to Long Beach.

Lyrik’s wistful sigh broke the tension. “Man, do these streets bring back memories. Me and all the guys, nothing more than punks running them, dreaming big. None of us could wait to get out of this place. Thought the world had so much more to offer us. Funny how heading back always feels like coming home.”

Looking over at him, I tried to picture him as a boy. “I bet you caused all sorts of trouble.”

He laughed. “Always. Wouldn’t expect anything less from me, would you?”

“Never.” I said it like saying otherwise would be an offense.

He sighed again. This time heavier. “Learned so much on these streets. About life and who I wanted to be. It’s where I fucked it all up, too.”

He turned the truck down a narrow street lined with tiny houses of every color. Many of them appeared to have been refurbished. Flipped. Surely stamped with a pretty price tag with the draw of the beaches nearby.

Others were worn and faded, run down with years of neglect.

He pointed to a light blue house. “That was Ash’s place before his parents moved back to Ohio. Spent most of our teenage years in his garage. Writing songs. Getting high. Living the life while we dreamed of making ours. Seemed so easy back then.”

I wondered when and how it’d gotten out of control.

I didn’t pretend not to know the guys were rough.

Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll.

That was the one catchphrase synonymous with their name. And it wasn’t just rumor. There was no hiding the history of arrests, of overdoses, and the death of their drummer.

But Lyrik kept it all so close to the vest. Isolated and concealed.

About a quarter mile down the road, Lyrik pulled up to the curb in front of a small pink house with white eaves. A tidy lawn stretched between the house and road, and two sprawling trees shaded the front.

A soft smile tugged at my mouth.

This house seemed somewhere between re-fabbed and rundown.

Lived in and loved.

“This is it,” Lyrik said as he killed the engine.

Nerves tightened my stomach.

“Are you sure this isn’t weird?” I couldn’t help but go back to the same question I’d asked early this morning.

Funny, that seemed like an age ago.

“Nah…they’re good people. You’ll love them.”

I nodded and pulled the door handle, just as the front door flew open and a little girl who had to be about Kallie’s age came dashing out.

Brown hair in pigtails.

Smile a mile wide.

This time it was my heart’s turn to tighten.

Lyrik was already rounding the front of the truck, going straight for her. She bolted toward him. Scooping her up under the arms, he tossed her into the air. She squealed, her sweet voice filling the air. “Uncle ’Lik,” she cried as she scrambled to lock her arms around his neck.

“There’s my girl,” he said, kissing her cheek, nuzzling the side of her face, so at ease with this child it took my breath away. “I’ve been missing you like crazy, Penny Pie.”

“I been missin’ you, too.”

Feeling out of sorts, I quietly latched my door shut behind me as I stepped onto the sidewalk, trying not to draw any attention to myself.

“Who’s dat?” she asked.

Turning my direction, Lyrik hooked the little girl on his hip. “That there is my Blue.”

My Blue.

Oh God.

He really was trying to wreck me.

“Bwue? That’s a funny name.”

“Not as funny as Penny.” He tapped her nose.

She howled with laughter, squirming all over the place as he tickled her.

Slowly I approached. I stretched my hand out in front of me as I did.

Right.

Okay.

Was I really going to introduce myself by shaking a little girl’s hand? Maybe I really had been hiding out in the bar for too long.

I pulled back my hand and gave her a small wave instead. “Hi there, Penny. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Shyly, she peered at me from where she had her head buried under Lyrik’s chin with eyes that were almost as dark as his.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my long-lost big brother, coming down from his castle to visit the common folk.”

I looked to where the voice hit us from off to the side. Leaning up against the doorjamb with her arms crossed over her chest was a girl who was probably a year or two younger than me. Her mouth stretched into the widest grin when Lyrik turned toward her.

“Ha ha ha, aren’t you hysterical?” he answered back, but it was all so clearly done in jest.

The two looked so much alike, I was almost taken aback. Her hair and eyes were just as dark as Lyrik’s.

Lyrik wrapped his free hand around my waist and tugged me against him. “Blue…meet my little sister, Mia. She’s kind of a pain in the ass, but I like her okay, I guess.”

Obviously, the taunt was meant for her.

She was laughing and shaking her head as she walked forward, and I was thanking God for her welcoming smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mia,” I said, unwinding myself from Lyrik’s hold. Bits of that old insecurity kept making their play, putting myself on the line this way, wondering just what in the world I was really doing here.

“The pleasure’s all mine. It’s nice to see someone who can put up with this ass for more than three seconds.”

She wrapped both her arms around Lyrik’s waist and placed her head on his chest. Everything between them went soft as he drew her into a hug while he still held her daughter in the other arm.

“I missed you so much. Don’t stay away so long next time,” she said

Um.

Wow.

This I was not expecting.

Unease had me shifting my feet.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Promise.”

She pulled back. “You better get inside. Mom’s about to have an aneurysm she’s so excited to see you. She’s baked the whole damned kitchen and I couldn’t say for certain, but I’m pretty sure she knitted you a new pair of underwear or two.”

“Underwear?” Penny drew out, like it was the craziest thing she’d ever heard.

Lyrik busted out laughing. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

When his sister released him, Lyrik stretched his hand out for me. “Come on, I want you to meet my mom and dad.”

I could almost feel the heat of Mia’s gaze, the curiosity as her eyes flicked between my face and our entwined hands. Her intensity quite possibly as distinct as her brother’s. But different. Warmer and without the old bitterness that seemed to be the fuel to his fire.

Still carrying Penny, Lyrik dragged me the rest of the way up the sidewalk, up the one concrete stair to the door, calling “I’m home” as we stepped through it.

Inside, I froze.

Oh my God.

I felt as if I’d stepped into an alternate universe. Kind of like the day I’d forced my way into Lyrik’s apartment uninvited and found him covered in frosting. But this was tenfold.

Hell, probably a hundred.

Memories of my grandmother’s house didn’t come close to competing with this, and I was sure she’d never gotten rid of one thing she’d collected throughout her entire life.

Sugar and spice hovered in the air—no question the bearing of fresh cinnamon rolls in the oven—the smell so thick I could almost see the scented waves wafting down the hall from the kitchen. Pictures covered every inch of the walls, and every shelf and table was cluttered with knickknacks and artifacts. Crocheted doilies covered the tops of the antique wooden furniture and a colorful afghan was thrown on the back of the couch.

Not one single thing matched.

Make it if you want it to matter.

Adding to the mayhem was the mess of toys strewn across the living room floor, a pop-up princess castle in one corner and a pile of huge pastel blocks in the other.

A man who’d been sitting in an old recliner across from the TV, one who without a doubt was Lyrik’s father, climbed to his feet. “Lyrik…there’s my boy. Glad to see you’re back.”

Releasing my hand, Lyrik met him halfway, gave him a shake of the hand and a clap to the back. The man grinned when he pulled away. “Of course, most of it has to do with the fact your mom is about to drive me out of my ever-lovin’ mind with her primping and puttering, thinking she has to get things ready for her own son to come home for a visit.”

“Not for him, Karl…for his guest,” the voice hollered from down the hall.

Redness crawled up my neck and heated my cheeks.

Blushing again.

What had I gotten myself into?

“I’m Tamar,” I said, shoving my hand out toward him, praying for even a piece of Tamar King to show.

“Hey…I ’fought your name was Bwue?” Penny demanded.

My attention shot to her. Maybe it was from the tension and strain. Maybe it was from the uncertainty and the questions that had swirled around this whole trip. But I broke out laughing like some kind of crazed lunatic when I saw the confusion on the little girl’s too-pretty face.

Too pretty like her uncle’s and too pretty like her momma’s.

Good God, it wasn’t Karl who’d lost his ever-lovin’ mind.

If I was worried what they’d think of me before, now they had plenty of arsenal to think I was nuts.

Insane.

But I’d been feeling that way since the moment Lyrik stepped into my life.

Like his weight had caused a shift in my axis.

Ever since, I’d been out of touch with what I’d fought to maintain as my reality.

Lyrik’s dad started laughing, too, and instead of returning my handshake, he hugged me. “We’re really glad to have you. My name’s Karl, in case you didn’t hear my woman hollering from the kitchen.”

I laughed a little more around the emotion clogged in my chest.

Lyrik was right.

I would love them.

I already knew that from the five seconds I’d spent in their space.

Bustling footsteps echoed down the hall, and Lyrik was already turning around, setting Penny on the floor before he moved forward and lifted his mom in an overbearing hug.

She didn’t fight it and let him whip her around like a ragdoll.

Lyrik set her back down and slung his arm around her shoulder. “And this hippie here would be my mom, Katy.”

She resembled the rest of them the least, shorter than her daughter by probably five inches, her feet bare, her hair a light brownish blonde, long and flowy, just as flowy as her whimsical skirt and the jewelry she wore.

But her smile.

It was his.

Though it lacked that wickedness.

She smacked his chest and at the same time leaned her head against it. “Oh, hush. You just love giving me a hard time.”

“What else are you good for?” With the jibe came pure affection, and he squeezed her a little tighter, as if he wanted to reassure her she was good for so much more.

That she was everything. Because that much was blatantly clear. This was the one place Lyrik was truly free. Unrestrained and without the ghosts that seemed to haunt his every move.

She relaxed into him for a second, before she pushed away with her attention locked on me. Her smile went achingly soft.

“And you must be Tamar.” She wrapped my hand in hers, covering them both with the other. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you for having me, especially on such short notice.”

She waved me off. “Pssh…I’m always more than ready to have company. Especially if it’s someone like you.”

A timer buzzed from the kitchen. Her light brown eyes widened. “Lyrik said you two wouldn’t be able to stay for dinner because of the show tonight, so I thought I’d whip us up some lunch. I hope you’re hungry.”

Lyrik rubbed his stomach. “Famished.”

“Good then. Come on, let’s eat.”

When Katy West cooked, Katy West cooked.

She’d made ham and potatoes and green beans, a salad, not to mention the cinnamon rolls she served hot out of the oven.

We sat around their small kitchen table, Lyrik at my side. I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who ate until their stomach was overstuffed, but the laughter was carefree and the conversation light and it felt so good to relax into the atmosphere.

None of them made me feel an outsider. It was only Penny sitting on her knees in her chair who peppered me with questions, which was clearly out of her own need to know every detail of everything, my favorite color and movie and book.

When we finished, I offered to help Katy clear the dishes, but she shooed us out and told me to enjoy my visit. I found myself in the backyard on the thick lawn, Penny screeching as Lyrik pushed her on the swing.

“Higher, Uncle ’Lik!”

I stood aside and watched as they played.

When she’d finally gotten her fill of going down the slide after she’d done it about fifty-two times, she called, “Duck, Duck, Goose time! Momma and Bwue have to play, too, right, Uncle ’Lik?”

She took his hand and looked up at him, that menacing, powerful boy so tall at her side, so striking and bold beneath the California sky, yet so careful with this little girl.

“Right,” he answered. He shot a grin our way, looking back after us as he let her haul him over to the grassy spot beneath the leafy ash growing proudly on the right side of the yard.

“You up for this?” Mia asked. “She can be a handful.”

“She’s wonderful,” I said.

Mia’s smile was warm, knowing, as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer because she definitely wasn’t going to disagree. We headed over to the circle Penny was putting in place.

“You sit right there…and Momma you’re right here…and Bwue…you sit there,” she said, pointing her tiny finger to the spot beside Lyrik.

“Yeah, you sit right here,” Lyrik drawled out just before he yanked my hand.

My feet flew out from under me.

And I was falling.

Right into his arms.

I yelped. “Lyrik…what do you think you’re doing? You’re so going to pay for that.”

But it was the sudden wave of joy rushing me that spun my head and weakened my knees, the ground a rumble, that buzz sizzling in the air. Everything went so rapturously light. This dangerous boy who was so incredibly good.

And I wanted to bask in it, in the excitement and thrill that drew me forward, pushing me into the open space where I had no place to hide.

Did he know?

He held me close, kissed my forehead.

So soft.

So sweet.

So different.

I could feel his smile against my skin, and I could feel my own as I clutched my hands in his shirt.

I wanted to hang on to it forever.

“I it!” Penny called, because forever couldn’t last, and I forced myself to crawl from Lyrik’s lap. I straightened out my shirt and tried to straighten out my emotions that were all tangled and tied.

I turned to catch Mia’s knowing smile, the bite of her lip as she looked between us, before she turned back to her daughter. “All ready.”

Penny started to skip around the small circle. She touched each of our heads as she passed.

“Duck… Duck… Duck…” She went around three times before she touched my head. “Goose!” she called. She fumbled into a run as I climbed to my feet. Her smile was so carefree as I chased her around the circle.

She jumped into my spot.

“Safe!”

Of course she was.

“Dang it,” I drew out, and Lyrik gave me a grin when he gave Penny a high-five. “You’re way too fast for our Blue here.”

I circled twice before I called “Goose” when I touched Mia’s head.

Okay.

So call me a chicken.

But I was taking the safe road.

Because the ones I’d been traveling today had suddenly become perilous. Full of dips and holes and unexpected curves that felt so good. I was sure there had to be an out-of-control truck barreling down on the other side.

I raced around the circle, moving quicker than I anticipated, because damn, Mia was fast. I twisted around, dodging her hand that barely missed my back, before I slid back into her spot.

Penny howled with laughter. “You beat my momma!”

I poked her stomach. “Sure did…you don’t have to have those long, gorgeous legs to run fast. Us short girls can do it too.”

“Ha,” Mia said, starting slow as she began to circle. “I’d give up my height for those curves, any day.”

Dark, dark eyes flashed, all mischief and sex as Lyrik glanced my way. “Kinda like those curves myself.”

I shot him a warning glare.

Little ears. Little ears.

Mia finally tapped Penny’s head and called, “Goose.” Penny took off after her, and Mia ran slowly, but never let Penny catch her before she hopped into her spot.

“Made it!”

Penny was all too eager to go again, rounding and rounding and rounding until she touched Lyrik’s Head. “Goose!”

Lyrik flew to standing and began to chase after his niece.

Penny squealed and moved her little legs as fast as she could.

“Go, Penny, go! Don’t let him get you,” I urged as I held out my arms for her to run into to keep her safe.

She flew into them and knocked us back against the grass.

Both of us were laughing, and she was hugging me and I was suddenly hugging her.

It felt so nice.

So natural.

And I missed and I missed and I missed.

A tremble rolled. Working its way from the inside out.

Home.

I wanted to find it.

I wanted to find the pieces I’d lost and shunned and left behind and the ones still waiting to be discovered in the future.

“I fink I love you,” the tiny voice said as Penny burrowed deeper into my hold.

So innocent and without any doubt. How easily she offered her heart.

I squeezed her tighter, just as tight as I squeezed my eyes shut. “I think I love you, too,” I whispered.

Was that okay? To love freely? Without the fear of it being ripped away?

Intensity blistered the air. A heat so great it was palpable, a tangible weight. My chest squeezed. Shivers covered me whole, magnified by the rays of the sun brushing at my arms and face.

I forced my eyes open and met with the fathomless stare glinting down at me.

The man so gorgeous and hard and terrifying. A storm so wholly beautiful. Dangerous and raw.

More dangerous than he’d ever been.

Because this wasn’t the malicious, spiteful man who’d come into my bar a year ago, scarred in bitterness. It wasn’t the one I’d run from because he’d reminded me of all the things I should fear.

This was the same boy in the picture I’d found shoved in the back corner of his drawer.

Face shining with pure love and joy and affection.

And he was looking at me.

The last brittle band of my heart broke.

I could feel the snap.

A million pounds gone.

The flood of emotion that swelled in my chest and spun in my spirit.

The shout of my soul.

Love. Love. Love.

Searching for a breath, I peeled Penny from me, gently kissed her on the cheek as I set her aside. “I need to get a glass of water,” I said.

Lie.

Lie.

Lie.

I was simply staggered.

Reeling.

I climbed onto shaky feet.

“Are you okay?’ Lyrik asked, head cocked in sudden concern.

“I’m fine.” I smiled. “Just going to get something to drink. Can I get you anything?”

“Nah…I’m good.” He looked to where Penny had climbed onto her mother’s lap. “Going to play with my girls for a few more minutes then we’d better get going.”

“Okay.”

I fumbled my way up the two steps leading to the porch and through the door to the kitchen where it was dim and quiet. Neither of Lyrik’s parents were anywhere to be found.

Slowly I made my way over to the kitchen sink and to the window that overlooked the backyard.

Drawn.

Because I couldn’t look away.

Lyrik was sitting on the grass, facing across from his sister and niece.

I stared out at everything I wanted. It felt so close. Yet the distance was riddled with obstacles.

“You love him.”

A soft gasp left me, and I jerked around to find Lyrik’s mother watching me from where she stood at the entrance of the kitchen.

It wasn’t a question.

My mouth flapped open and closed, my mind still a buzzing whir of noises and realizations and hope.

“I didn’t mean to.” It spilled free before I could stop the admission, but as soon as I voiced it, I knew its truth.

I didn’t mean to fall in love with Lyrik West.

I’d run from it.

Fought it.

All the while he’d been the one to fight for me.

It was so difficult to reconcile. The boy who I felt as if I could go to for anything, the one who’d protect me with his last dying breath, up against the one who kept himself so shut off. Sheltered and fortified behind his own walls.

Light laughter rippled from her delicate mouth. “We rarely do.”

Her brown eyes softened as she tilted her head. “I doubt very much he meant to fall in love with you, either.”

Hope whipped into a frenzy.

I shook my head to clear it.

No.

She was wrong.

“I’m pretty sure I’m just along for the ride,” I told her, trying to blink away the moisture gathering in my eyes.

Weak.

That’s what he made me.

“Are you sure about that? In his entire life, my son has only brought two girls here. And the first one? That boy was head over heels in love with her.”

The pain ripping through me was the worst sign. It felt as if my chest was being shorn into a thousand tiny pieces.

I had to be an idiot.

But I knew the risk—coming here—I reminded myself. I learned a long time ago not all skies after a storm are painted in rainbows.

“Has he told you about her?” she asked.

Fiercely, I shook my head.

Her expression lifted in sympathy, but it was clear she wasn’t surprised, and she took a tentative step forward. My gaze was drawn back to the window. Outside, I saw Lyrik laugh, the tender way he looked at his sister and niece.

The pain within me only amplified.

“Tamar, I’d never tell you that about her to hurt you or make you feel like you’re less, and maybe I shouldn’t say anything at all,” Katy continued cautiously. She edged in closer behind me.

“I’m telling you because it means something he brought you here. More than something…especially after everything he’s been through. And I’m not one to go making excuses for my children. Lyrik made terrible mistakes with her. Mistakes he’s been paying for ever since. Mistakes I’m sure he’s going to be paying for, for the rest of his life. But he loved her. Loved her like mad. So often, that first love feels like it’s the most important thing in the world, when in reality, it’s only there to give us a glimpse…to prepare us…for what it’s really going to feel like when we meet the one we’re supposed to spend our lives with. Because it pales in comparison.”

My throat constricted. So tight. I tried to breathe around it.

Katy’s tender voice swelled in the room, as if she were lost to the same scene happening in her backyard as I was.

“You know, when Mia got pregnant…she wasn’t even eighteen. Lyrik was so protective of her. He’d always been. He would have dropped everything to come take care of his sister when that useless boyfriend of hers dumped her the day she found out about Penny.”

Knowingly, she grinned my way. “Little bastard, he was lucky Lyrik didn’t skin him alive.”

Her voice softened again. “When Penny was born, Baz had just gotten out of jail after all that trouble those boys went and got themselves into.”

God, I wanted to ask about that, too.

It was so much more difficult traversing something when you were going in blind.

“Things were just starting to move along for Sunder,” she mused. “Them gaining national attention and their label picking them up. Lyrik wanted to up and move us into a big house. Take care of us. But this has always been our home. And more important than that, Mia needed to find her own way, even though she’s still looking for it.”

Everything about her slowed in emphasis as her head inclined toward the window. “Same way as he does. And maybe that way has always been pointing to you.”

Stunned by her words, I turned to look at her. She’d only met me today. And I could almost hear forever whispering from her tongue.

My gaze trailed out the window. For a moment I stared, before something in my periphery caught my attention.

They were sitting below the window off to the left amid a bunch of other trinkets. There were two of them. The same handmade bears like the one I’d found in Lyrik’s apartment. The same kind he’d made for Sebastian and Shea’s son. These two were obviously well used, one plainly made for a boy and the other for a girl.

I could almost picture Lyrik as a wild, spirited boy running through the house with a cape on his back, his little sister toddling behind, trying to keep up, as they both dragged the bears along with them.

Make it if you want it to matter.

Overwhelmed by it all, I whipped around to look at her.

“What’s the song on his arm? The name?” I demanded it before I could stop myself.

Sadly, she shook her head. “Now that’s not my story to tell. But look at you…”

For a second, I recoiled, slammed behind a wall of defensiveness. A flash of Red.

But her expression was the furthest from judgmental. “Sweet girl…I see you…trying to cover up the things you wish you could erase.”

Could she really tell that just from looking at me?

“And my son? He might not completely understand everything, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get it. Just like I know you might not know every single detail of Lyrik’s past, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get him. And it’s like he’s silently begging you to. See him. Get him. Even when I know that terrifies him. He doesn’t want to forget, Tamar, but it’s time he moved beyond it. Maybe you’re the one who can help him do that. He deserves to be loved. Every bit as much as you do.”

Could she be right? That what Lyrik truly wanted was me?

And she looked at me. Looked at me as if she could see through every day and every moment of the last four years. As if she felt every fear. As if she knew every wound.

“You might have given up on yourselves. Just don’t give up on each other.”