car as if he’d somehow overlooked her.
“Haven’t seen her,” Max said.
“Dammit!” Butch tossed Dare’s clothes at him before jumping out of the car again.
“Fuck, it’s early,” Dare grumbled as he tugged his T-shirt on over his head.
As soon as he pulled the fabric down to cover his belly, Dare leaned over and put his head on Toni’s lap, snuggling into her like she was his favorite pillow. Logan might have slugged him, but he was too tired for that level of activity, and if he’d have thought of it first, he’d have done the exact same thing.
Toni glanced nervously at Logan, but he offered her a reassuring smile. He trusted her not to break his heart, trusted his bandmates not to steal her away from him. The only one he didn’t trust with her was himself. Soon the North American leg of their tour would be over and she’d go back to her little chicken farm in Washington and they’d have to say goodbye.
A churning lump settled in the pit of his stomach, a sensation he quickly dismissed as hunger.
“How does Dare feel about going indie?” Toni asked.
Dare’s eyes eased open, and he zeroed in on Steve. “This again? Give it a rest, will you?”
“So this isn’t the first time you’ve discussed it?” Toni asked, her fingers twitching. Logan guessed she was itching to write down their entire conversation.
At times, Logan wished her reporter side had an off switch.
“It’s Steve’s favorite topic of conversation,” Max said.
“I just have a different definition of success than the rest of you,” Steve said. “I don’t need the limousines and the fancy house and the five-star hotel suites and the piles of cash.”
“But you do need the gorgeous babes,” Logan said with a grin.
“Of course I need the gorgeous babes,” Steve said, “but as far as everything else goes, I just need to make music and earn enough to get by. The rest of this is just . . . stuff. Unnecessary fucking stuff.”
“I’m so tired, he’s making sense,” Dare mumbled. He covered a yawn, and then a second, with the back of his hand.
The car door opened, and Reagan stumbled in wearing a bathrobe, a pair of combat boots, and a sleepy expression. “This shit is for the birds,” she declared before sitting next to Max and glowering at Butch, who tossed her overnight bag into the car and climbed inside, slamming the door behind him.
“We’re going to be late,” Butch said as the limo took off.
“Six a.m. is never late,” Steve said, “unless you haven’t made it to bed yet. Which I haven’t.” His fingertips disappeared under his sunglasses to rub at both eyes.
“How am I supposed to get dressed in the car?” Reagan said, tilting her head at Butch and giving him a glare that would freeze molten lava.
“Figure it out,” he barked.
“I’ll help you,” Toni said. She scooted out from beneath Dare’s head to stumble to the other side of the moving limo.
Toni held Reagan’s robe like a makeshift curtain while Reagan tossed on clothes in the corner behind it. Once dressed, their sassy guitarist fixed an icy stare on Butch as she flopped into the seat, shoved her feet back into her boots, and jerked the laces tight.
None of this was Butch’s fault. He didn’t arrange their schedule. He was just in charge of making sure they stuck to it. Poor bastard.
At the TV station, they climbed out one at a time. Logan lingered so he could be with Toni for as long as possible. The limo was taking her to the arena so she could start her day and then would return to pick up the band after their television appearance.
He kissed her, his heart panging unpleasantly, as if he were saying goodbye to her forever instead of for a few hours. He much too attached to her, he decided. Much, much, much too attached.
“You be careful around all that heavy equipment,” he said, kissing her again.
“I will. Don’t worry about me.”
How could he not worry about her? She collected more bruises by walking across an empty room than he did wiping out on his dirt bike.
“Don’t be too charming on television,” she said. “I don’t want the whole world to covet what’s mine.”
He stumbled out of the car, her words tumbling around in his head like socks in a dryer. To covet what was hers? Did she really think he was hers? He’d have to set her straight when he had time. Still, even if she was