What am I doing here?

Iris observed the line of people wrapped around the outside of the venue as the black SUV she and the boys rode in carried them around to the back of the massive building. Opening night of Aesthetic Ruin’s highly anticipated tour, and the fans were turning out in droves. Elijah had been here for a good portion of the day for sound check, so she had kept the boys with her until time to join him here.

Their driver checked in at the gate to the back lot and then pulled up beside a line of idling tour buses. Seger and Dylan were exclaiming in glee, and no sooner had the driver shifted into Park than they dove out of the vehicle in a footrace to the back entrance.

“Wait,” Iris called after them, hurriedly grabbing her things. She felt small and inconsequential as she climbed from the SUV, dwarfed by the imposing structure ahead of her that would soon be crammed with thousands of screaming fans and somewhat intimidated by the sleek, dark buses with their blacked-out windows. Which one of them would be her home for the next two months? Did she go there now? Check in with someone? Elijah had given her no indication of what to expect. But he wouldn’t, would he? He would enjoy her confusion. I give you a couple of weeks tops, and you’ll be going back home.

Those words hadn’t stopped echoing through her head from the moment he’d said them. They had kept her awake last night. They had been with her while she dressed, while she ate, while she tried to wrangle two boys who were way rowdier than usual, excited for the coming night.

What kind of failure would she be if he turned out to be right? If she tucked tail and ran? That thought more than anything forced her to inject steel into her spine. She belonged here. She had as much right to be here as all the other people hurrying about, the ones with lanyards and laminates.

The driver went around to the back of the SUV to collect her and the boys’ bags while she retrieved Seger and Dylan and wondered if she should swallow her pride and text their dad to ask him what the hell to do. Wait on the bus? Come inside the building?

But then she noticed that the driver had begun walking toward the buses with their luggage in tow. He must know what was up. Tentatively she followed, the boys at her side.

Things were getting real. Until this moment, Elijah Vance had merely been her boss’s ex-husband. The boys’ father. Someone who didn’t like her and didn’t want her here, but whom she’d been able to stand up to so far on Heidi’s authority. Here, now, among all these people within her field of vision and beyond, he held dominion. This was his world; he was king of it, and she had no doubt his word was law.

Her mouth was dry as they drew nearer to the bus, her heartbeat as ragged as when she’d stood up to him in the pool yesterday. She’d marveled then at how confident her voice sounded when she was going to pieces inside from his nearness, his scathing looks, his razor-sharp words. Never had she encountered anyone who hated her for no good darn reason, and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

Keep doing what she was doing, she supposed, but it hurt. He’d told her to show him why she was here, and she fully intended to do that if he would let her. If a summer of his suspicions and accusations didn’t do her in first.

The day had been on the cool side and breezy. Late afternoon was just beginning its slow fade to early twilight. Iris wore jeans and a navy T-shirt with a long white cardigan, her hair in a high ponytail. She nearly stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a gorgeous, leggy blonde stepping off one of the buses laughing, her feet encased in what must be five-inch heels, tanned skin on full display in her leather booty shorts and slinky sequined halter top. Iris’s heart hit the pit of her stomach. Dear God, I hope that’s not our bus. Following behind her was a similarly dressed and equally gorgeous brunette. Nothing they wore was actually indecent—all the important bits were covered, anyway—but Iris had to resist the temptation to slap her hands across the boys’ eyes. Dylan probably couldn’t care less yet, but Seger was getting to that age. His tongue was practically hanging out.

“Scoot,” she instructed firmly, putting a guiding hand on his back. The driver was leading them to the adjacent bus, thank God, and Elijah himself stepped down from it upon their approach.

The show was a few hours off, yet she was surprised to see he only wore ratty jeans and an old black Megadeth T-shirt that molded nicely to his physique. Even casually dressed, he exuded a rugged, edgy charisma. Iris wasn’t exactly sure what she’d been expecting to see; from what she’d seen online of his live shows, he certainly wasn’t all studded leather and chains or anything like that. He might very well go onstage in what he had on right now and still look the part of international rock star.

“Hey, dudes,” he said, his grin lighting up his face, and the boys rushed to him. Dylan jumped on him, giggling as Eli clamped an arm around his waist and turned him nearly upside down. Seger slipped past them and onto the bus steps. As Eli set Dylan back on his feet, his eyes met Iris’s above the boy’s head and darkened somewhat. He didn’t have a smile for her, but he tipped his chin up minutely. “Come on in.”

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse, and she understood that he could’ve shattered everything at that moment. She’d handed off his sons to him, they were in his care, and he now stood tall and obstinate between her and their home for the next eight weeks. He could have sent her packing then, but he hadn’t. “Thank you,” she said softly, relief washing through her. Eli went up the bus steps. Somewhat expecting the door to slam in her face, she approached timidly, trying not to notice how nicely those jeans hugged his thighs.

Inside the bus, the lighting was muted, the air cool, and she gazed around in wonder. Everything gleamed black and ivory. There was a sitting area with plush couches on either side, a huge flat-screen TV dominating one wall facing the front of the bus. A kitchenette with shining stainless-steel appliances and granite counter tops—she didn’t even have granite counter tops.

Starry overhead lighting led down the narrow hallway beyond, where the bunks would be. Beyond that, she supposed, would be the bedroom where Elijah slept.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She’d crafted all sorts of cramped-space nightmares in her head, but this was incredibly nice and spacious enough. And private—black blinds covered all windows, blocking out the world beyond.

Seger and Dylan were already fighting over bunks as if there weren’t several to choose from. Nothing could be easy with those two. Iris didn’t much care herself, since they both wanted to be on top and closest to their dad, and she definitely wanted to be nearest to the floor . . . and preferably farthest away from their dad.

She sat on the edge of one of the couches and looked around, listening to Eli sort out the bedding situation for them. Of course, no sooner had they figured it out than the boys took off for their dad’s bedroom anyway. Apparently, he had a massive entertainment center replete with video games back there. Most likely they would spend most of their time there.

Eli emerged from the hall and glanced at her. She stiffened, sitting up straighter. “Did you eat yet?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to speak but had to clear her throat before she could force the words past the dryness. “They had a late lunch, but they might be hungry already.” She had been too nervous to eat.

“What about you?”

“I’m fine.” Waving a hand dismissively, she looked away.

“Well, catering is up, is all I’m saying. I can show you if you want to go.” He stepped forward and picked up a tablet from the table across from her, which he handed to her. “This controls pretty much everything here. Lighting, TV, if you want to watch movies or listen to music, there’s a lot preloaded. I guess you heard the boys picking out where they want to sleep. Everything else is up for grabs, so get what you want.”

She nodded and placed the tablet aside. “Thanks.”

“I warn you, you’re gonna get bored.”

“With those two around?”

He chuckled at her affectionate tone. “You have a point there.” He gestured down the hall. “The bathroom is also back there. We’ll be making a lot of hotel stops too, so we won’t always be crammed in here. I can get you a schedule so you’ll know where we’ll be and when. If there’s anything you need, tell me.”

“Okay.”

“You look terrified.”

She glanced up to find his gaze on her and shifted uncomfortably. Well, what do you expect? That’s kind of your fault. “I’m fine. I’ll adjust. I think I might have just seen my first real-life groupie out there.”

“In their natural habitat,” he muttered. “There isn’t much I can do about it. It has settled down a lot but I do have a bandmate who’s newly single.”

“Like, two groupies.”

He only laughed. “Yeah.”

“You’re single too,” she pointed out.

To her surprise, he sat down across from her, crossing one ankle over his knee as if to have a real conversation with her. “Yeah, but I’ve got my kids here. Kinda hard to think of myself as single.” His dark head turned toward the back, where she could hear that Seger and Dylan had already gotten into the games. Iris found herself rather in love with the way he looked when he talked about them.

Couldn’t really hate on a man like that, regardless of the way he felt about her. The way he felt about her didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She would cling to that.

“So how does this work?” she asked. “Do you let them watch the shows?”

“Definitely. You can stay with them side stage if you want.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t it . . . loud?”

“Fuck yeah, it’s loud. We have ear plugs they can wear.”

“I might want some too.”

One corner of his mouth tugged downward in mild exasperation. “It’s not that loud. Unless you’re a wuss.”

“I’m a total wuss.” Admitting that probably wasn’t the smartest thing, given his challenge yesterday. Oh well. Let him be off his guard; it might give her an advantage.

Sighing, he absently ran both hands back through his shoulder-length black hair, smoothing it from his high, handsome brow and securing it at his nape. She watched his movements with a fascination she couldn’t exactly identify—she only knew she wondered how soft his hair was to touch, and she wondered what was going on behind those soulful green eyes.

“Do you still get nervous?” she asked. “Opening night, and all?”

He let his arms fall to the cushions on either side, his task completed. “Shit usually goes wrong on opening night. There’ll be kinks to iron out. I dread that part. And yeah, even after all these years I get nervous. Once I’m out there, I’m all right. But with live shows, nothing is perfect, and the fans are stoked just to be there. I could drop an entire verse and no one would notice. So as long as I don’t trip and bust my ass or anything like that—which has happened before—I consider it a success.”

“Oh no.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure if you dig deep enough on YouTube, it’s out there.”

“That has to be hard. It’s like you’re no longer performing only for the crowd you have, but for the entire world.”

“Exactly. Sometimes we debut a new song at a live show. By the next night, the next city, the crowd already knows the lyrics. It’s wild.”

It pleased her that they agreed on something. Maybe at the very least, they could be allies if she kept trying to build this relationship brick by brick. Eli pulled his cell phone out and checked the time, uncrossing one ankle to cross the other. Now that Iris was here and everything appeared okay, her nerves had settled somewhat, and her stomach felt hollow. At that moment, it decided to get her attention and growled. “You mentioned catering?” she asked him. “Or do you keep snacks on the bus?”

“It’s pretty well stocked. Look around, and if there’s anything else you want, make me a list. Or I’ll take you inside or send someone to get whatever you need. Up to you.”

She wasn’t too sure she was ready to go inside yet. It was nice here on the bus, the hum of the idling engines, the protection from prying eyes. Those women out there had . . . scared her. Iris was twenty-six, but next to them she felt old and frumpy. 

After working for Heidi these past few years, she supposed she ought to be used to that feeling, at least the frumpy part. Heidi wasn’t one to use her beauty as a weapon, though. She was beautiful, that was the simple fact of the matter. The women here were on a mission. One of them, the brunette, had looked at Iris and smirked. She was sure of it. This was a competition for them, a game.

“I think I’m okay here for now,” she told Eli. “I’m not picky. I’ll find something.” How many of them have won that game with him?

He planted both feet and stretched his tall figure upward. God, he smells good. It was the faintest whiff that reached her every time he moved, darkly sweet and mysterious. She wished she could shove her face into his neck and inhale her fill.

Whoa. Down girl.

Without further comment to her, he strode to the back and called to his boys, asking if they were hungry. To that, he got a yes and a no. Seger ate like a horse while Dylan ate like a bird, so she’d known what their answers would be as soon as their dad asked.

While he took the kids inside the arena—Dylan protesting loudly about leaving their game—Iris found where they’d chosen to sleep and picked out a bunk of her own: first one to the left, on the bottom. She put her things there for now, observing that the space had lighting and even a small TV, sheltered from the rest of the bus by a thick curtain. It was adequate, but the thought of sleeping there while hurtling down the highway sparked her paranoia. It might rock her to sleep, but she also couldn’t help imagining the terror of waking up to tumbling down a ravine or something.

Pulling the curtain closed and standing straight again, she rubbed her arms in the chill air and glanced around. Eli must like it cool in here. Even beneath her cardigan she had gooseflesh. Morbid curiosity getting the better of her, she stepped toward the back of the bus, and the area where the rock star slept.

King sized mattress, the bedding rumpled where the boys had been wallowing. Huge TV. The same starry lighting and edgy black and ivory decor as the rest of the bus, only . . . Mirrors. Wherever there was a wall, there was a mirror, wherever it would fit, surrounding the bed on all sides. Everywhere she looked, her own reflection looked back at her. Whatever Elijah got up to back here, he liked to watch himself doing it from all angles. Or liked watching it being done to him.

The hair prickled at the nape of her neck, and though she blamed it on the air conditioning, that didn’t explain the flush creeping up her neck and cheeks, which the mirrors threw back at her with brutal honesty. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her, her nipples chafing against the padding of her bra.

Don’t go there, she begged herself, but she had little choice in the matter. In her mind, he was stretched out among those messy sheets, that lean, inked body naked and sweaty beneath a female form that would probably resemble one of those Iris had seen outside.

It was the briefest of flashes, there and gone again, and it made her flee the room in near panic. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t be invading his space like that, anyway; it was no business of hers what the man did in his own bed, even if Heidi wanted to make it so.

Iris feared that was one thing she simply couldn’t do.

Feeling icky and suddenly overheated even in the frigid air, she wondered if she might be coming down with something. That was the last thing she needed, but given the stress of this entire situation, it wouldn’t surprise her in the least. Her immune system must be running at an all-time low. The first thing on her grocery list for Eli would be fresh fruit and veggies—she wasn’t much of a stickler on nutrition, but that was something she believed in having on hand at all times. Naturally, she didn’t find so much as a banana as she searched the kitchenette, but there was orange juice in the fridge. She found a glass and poured some, downing it in only a few gulps as much for the vitamin C as to cool herself down.

What was wrong with her?