Tulsa

“Did you hit it last night?”

“The bed?”

Dave narrows his eyes as if he doesn’t recognize me. “No, did you bang a chick? I’m living vicariously, man.”

“Should’ve gone out. Then you wouldn’t have to live through me.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied and appears to be waiting for a legit answer. My brothers turn to look at me over the light brown leather seats of the private plane. “It was good,” I say, emphasizing the good a little too hard. Hopefully, that satisfies their nosy asses.

Kaz and Derrick toss their bags on the floor next to their seats, across from Jet and Rivers. Johnny’s already onboard, I was told, but holed up in one of the bedrooms. Dex takes up space in the corner. His eyes are closed, and his headphones are on. That’s gonna be me as soon as we take off.

All that’s missing is Faris Wheel.

We’ve flown on the private jet a few times now, and the buttery leather seats and the legroom cannot be beat.

I’d thought about Nikki all night, wondering how she was feeling and if I should check on her or send her some food. She’s tough to figure out, though. She made it more than clear she can take care of herself but then goes and gets drunk. I should have seen her to her room. I have a feeling she wouldn’t have accused me of trying to sleep with her. If it was her idea, then she’d be all over it. In the meantime, I don’t want to step over some imaginary boundary she’s drawn around herself that would ruin the truce we agreed on. That would set us back, and, after last night, I like the direction we’re heading.

Nikki blocks the sunshine flooding in from the cabin door up front when she finally arrives. Large green sunglasses block her eyes from view, and the straight line of her lips makes her appear unapproachable.

Her sunglasses get moved to the top of her head, and her eyes find mine, but not with the smile I love. She gives good poker face.

Laird, Shane, and she sit catty-corner to me. Her shades come down, and her head goes back. I can’t read her mood. How does she feel about me after the antics last night?

I finally make my move forty minutes into the flight when Laird gets up to talk to Dave. I snag his seat, glancing over at Shane, who’s asleep with earbuds in. Nikki faces me, but her sunglasses mask her eyes. I rest my arms on my legs and lean forward. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. I told you not to let me get drunk.”

Chuckling, I lower my gaze and shake my head. When I look back up, I reply, “You’re pretty . . . stubborn.”

“I am. I puked twice.”

“I was worried about that.”

She leans forward and whispers, “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my panties going missing, would you?” God, she’s adorable.

I’m tempted to reach into my bag and pull out the little ball of sexy lace, but selfishly, I’m not going to. I’ll return them eventually, but I’m thinking this might be a good lesson for her to learn. I mean, she shouldn’t go around giving away her panties to every guy who calls her darlin’.

This is going to be fun. Leaning back, I cross my ankle over my leg. “Your panties are missing?”

“They were this morning.”

“You sure you wore them?”

Nodding, she says, “Yes, I always wear underwear. My mom was a zealot when it came to wearing clean underpants every day just in case I was in an accident, but I digress.” She removes her sunglasses. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her usually tan skin is a few shades lighter. “I don’t remember a lot about last night, so I should probably apologize now for whatever I said, or did—”

“You didn’t do anything. We made a truce and had some drinks. That’s all that happened.” To fuck with her, one of my new favorite things to do, I glance around and then whisper, “Oh, except for this one thing.”

Dread settles into her fine features. “What?”

“I really liked when you danced on the bar for me.”

“What? No. I would not—”

“You did.” I settle back again. “Wow, you really don’t remember last night, do you?”

“I guess . . .” Rubbing her temples, she looks out the window like she might find her memories out there in the clouds but turns back quickly, eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re not lying to me, are you, Crow?”

“Now that I think about it, I don’t think you were wearing underwear. At least not when you were up on the bar. Dancing.”

Her mouth falls open as she stares at me. I mentally dust my hands off—my work here is done.

Pushing up, I leave her there to think about the view I supposedly had and sit down across from Dave. I put my sunglasses on and close my eyes. I may not have puked, but I shouldn’t have done those shots.

Turbulence hits, and my eyes instantly search for and find Nikki. She looks away quickly, but not before my mouth pops up at the corners from busting her. Even though she’s averted her gaze, she rolls her eyes, making me laugh.

A wadded-up napkin bounces off my face, and I see her laughing too. It’s good to see her smile. No, it’s better than good; it’s what I need somehow.

With the truce in place, now we get to have fun.

* * *

After checking into our hotel in Tempe, we’re driven to Sun Devil Stadium. I want to say I’m used to this, playing the largest venues in the country, but I’m not. With my arms out wide, I say, “The Rolling Stones played here.”

Rivers embraces the awe of the venue. “U2 performed here too.”

“Arizona State football,” Dave adds. When we look at him like he’s insane, he shrugs. “I like watching college ball.”

Whether it was Super Bowl or the Pope—this stadium is legendary, and now we’re playing here. The Resistance has given us this chance, and I’m not going to waste it.

Our band stays close to the stage while Faris Wheel does their sound check. We try to stand out of the way of the roadies, but this is still too new. I feel spoiled, so when my kit makes it up on stage, I sit on the stool and make the adjustments myself. Those guys have plenty of other things to do anyway.

Tapping the skins, I start into the rhythm of the first song of the set.

Tommy walks onto the stage and says, “You’re not used to having help. I get it, but I want you backstage preparing—mentally and physically—for each performance. We’ve got the best crew in the business. Let them do their job so you can do yours.”

I see his point. After playing through three songs, the band lets the crew take care of the equipment. I feel solid about rocking this stadium tomorrow night.

The Resistance walks in as we walk out. They don’t have to do a sound check if they don’t want to, but the musicians who care the most still do. Getting to know them over the past year has been an unexpected perk to the job. They could be assholes who believe the hype and treat everyone like they’re beneath them, but that’s not how they are. They’re demanding, but the fame doesn’t touch them outside the arena. They have families and respect the women in their lives. Not like a lot of asshole musicians.

I’ve read a few stories about Holli, Rochelle, and Jaymes saving the men in their lives as much as finding love. Seemed cheesy at the time, but it makes me wonder if there’s a woman out there who can save me, and by save me, I mean make me want to settle down.

“Hey.”

Nikki’s standing behind me when I turn around. “Hey. How are ya feeling?”

“Eh. Been better, but I’ve been worse too.”

“We’re about to head back to the hotel. You coming?”

Today, I get a happier vibe from her. It’s a nice change. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

In the SUV, I end up sitting next to her. Unfortunately, it’s in the first row with her brother and cousin behind us . . . staring, or maybe glaring fits Laird’s expression better.

I don’t dare talk to Nikki. Every word would be heard since everyone else is quiet, but I underestimated her. Nikki Faris is a devil in a short dress. I’m starting to think her sole objective on this tour is to torture me with her great legs, even greater tits, and a smile that only an angel who’s broken a lot of heavenly rules can sport.

How am I supposed to resist this siren? Especially when she taps my leg covertly so no one else notices. When I steal a glance her way, she’s biting her bottom lip trying to hold that mischievous smile inside and failing miserably.

And what’s up with the thudding in my chest? Why is my heart suddenly making its presence known? Can the whole damn vehicle hear it?

Is it hot in here? We’re in Arizona, so we sure as fuck better not have the heat on. The air feels like it’s gotten ten degrees warmer in the past two minutes.

I tug at the collar of my shirt and lean over to let the air vent blow on my neck, hoping to cool off. When the little minx starts laughing, I realize I could be in trouble. It’s not the heat making my heart pound.

It’s her.