“Did he bring groupies on the bus?”

“No.”

“But groupies did come on the bus?”

“Yeah.”

“And he fucked one of them?”

I growl into the phone, and Shawn gives me a look again. I ignore him and answer Kale. “No. Can I go now?”

“But you’re mad at him?”

Is everything okay? Shawn mouths, and I wave him off to answer my brother. “Not anymore. And Kale?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I’ll call you tonight.”

I hang up before he can argue, letting out a deep sigh as Shawn and I round a corner to the lot the buses are in.

“What was that about?” he asks as my phone rings again.

I silence it all the way and shrug. “Wrong number.”

Chapter Twelve

THAT NIGHT, AFTER sweating out another five pounds under the blazing-hot lights of a packed-to-the-rafters venue, Leti’s call is the one that comes through my silenced phone.

“We’re here.”

“Huh?” I towel off my forehead and tip my head upside down, drying off my neck as the blood floods my skull. The crowd is still screaming, high off our set, and Leti is making zero freaking sense.

“You looked amazing. Are those leather pants?” I furrow my black eyebrows at my shiny black leggings. “And your boobs looked fantastic,” Leti adds. “I almost went straight for a minute, but your brother was standing right beside me, so . . . I was torn, Kitty-Bitty.”

I flip my head back up and look around the greenroom the band and I are in. The guys are chatting with the sound crew as bottles get passed around and drinks get poured. “You’re here?”

“Yep. Standing in front of some ’roided-up security guy who’s giving me a dirty look right now.” His voice gets a little quieter, like he pulled the phone away from his mouth, when he says, “What’s your problem, man?”

“And Kale’s with you?”

His volume goes up again. “Currently looking very worried that I’m going to get my ass kicked by said ’roided-up security,” Leti answers. “Are you going to come to my rescue, or are you going to let me get pummeled? I mean, your brother here would make a super-cute nurse, but—”

“I’m coming,” I interrupt. I hang up before Leti can put any more scarring visuals in my head, and then I tell the guys I have to go find my brother.

Shawn’s black kicks are in step with my even blacker combat boots as I walk through the halls of backstage, ranting about my brother being the evil twin and me having no idea why he and Leti showed up here tonight. I didn’t ask Shawn to come with me to find them . . . but I didn’t try to stop him, either.

When I finally do spot them, they’re standing with a security guard who’s impossible to miss. “ ’Roided up” was an understatement, but I march right up to him. “It’s okay. They’re with me.”

The security guard huffs and gives Leti a final dirty look before turning and walking away, a big body on big legs.

Leti grins like a loon as he watches him leave. “I think he wanted me.”

My twin is standing next to Leti in a fitted red tee, his black hair looking perfectly washed and styled, I’m guessing for Leti’s benefit. “What are you doing here?” I ask in a not-exactly-happy-to-see-him voice.

“Waiting for you to call me back,” he replies coolly, his gaze hardening when it drifts to Shawn. It’s a look I’ve seen before—from every single one of my brothers at some point or another. It growls, Stay away from my sister. And Kale’s holds a touch of, I know you brought groupies on the bus, you asshole.

“Oh, don’t even act like you’re mad anymore,” Leti teases Kale. He smiles at me and continues. “He loved the show. He just kept going on like, ‘That’s my sister! That’s my sister!’ ”

Kale nudges Leti with his elbow, Leti smiles fondly at him, and I’d feel giddy as hell about them being so close with each other if it wasn’t for the thick tension between Kale and Shawn. Kale’s black gaze is razor-sharp, but Shawn doesn’t shy away from its edge. The two of them are in a stare-down, both standing tall and still. I look up at Kale, at Shawn, at Kale.

“This is Shawn,” I say.

Kale tucks his hands in his back pockets instead of reaching out to shake Shawn’s hand. “I know who he is.”

Leti’s eyebrows fly up almost as high as mine, and I stammer, “Uh . . . ”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Shawn says, extending his hand with a smile on his face that isn’t at all like the smiles he gives me. It’s the smile he gives fans who overstep boundaries—nice, believable, but counterfeit.

Kale lets his eyes fall down to Shawn’s hand, looking like he’d rather latch on to it with his teeth instead of touching it with his skin. I’m wondering if I’m going to have to pry his hands from his back pockets and puppeteer him into playing nice with Shawn myself, but then he reluctantly peels five fingers out of his dark denim and reaches forward. “Kale.”

During the walk back to the greenroom, Leti graciously fills the awkward silence, and Shawn and I learn a few things. One, Kale called Leti to get him to call me, but Leti insisted they just come up here. Two, Leti set a condition for the impromptu road trip, and that condition was that they go to a hot new club before they leave. Three, the guys and I have to come along.