to write the damn music for their lyrics, Liam. It’s nonnegotiable.”
“He will,” I say, stepping forward. “We’ll get out an album by then.”
“I said or two,” Ronni clarifies.
“One,” I say. “That’s all we’ll agree to or no deal.”
“The deal’s already done, Crew, or have you forgotten I make the decisions around here?”
“One album, Ronni.”
She drinks her champagne and pours another. “Goddamn musicians. I hate all of you.”
Liam pulls me aside. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Always, brother. You know that.” I grip his shoulder. “It’ll happen. You’ll be inspired when you least expect it.”
He follows my eyes as I stare at Bria.
“I don’t want a girlfriend,” he says. “You, more than anyone, should know that.”
“I didn’t say you had to be inspired by a girl. Maybe it’ll be a song. A car. Hell, maybe a tree in Central Park will do it.” I get an idea and go over to Bria. “Want to take a walk with me? Might help calm your nerves.”
She finishes her drink and sets down the glass. “I’d like that.”
We stroll away from the stage and all the hustle and bustle. I want to take her hand, but I’m afraid it might spur a conversation I don’t want to have. Talk about us can wait until after she hears what I’m going to say to her in front of a thousand people. Damn—now I feel sick again.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” she says. “Pretty unlike you.”
“I guess I’m still trying to process everything. We’re going on tour? That’s mind-blowing, Bria. I’ve barely been out of the tristate area.”
“It’ll be fun. Do you think anyone down there knows who we are?”
“I’ll bet Ronni will make sure of it before we go. She’ll contact radio stations, set up interviews, and arrange press conferences and whatever else she thinks we need.”
A man jogs toward us. He does a double take and circles back. My heartrate skyrockets.
“You’re the singers for Reckless Alibi,” he says, jogging in place.
I stiffen. “That’s right.”
He stops jogging and looks at Bria like he wants to fuck her. “Brianna and … sorry, can’t remember your name.”
I’ll bet you can’t. Anger, fear, and pure hatred crawl up my spine. It’s not him, I say over and over in my head. I take a breath and try to remember what Dr. Hardy told me to do in situations like this. I hold out my hand. “I’m Crew. What’s your name?”
“Greg.” He shakes my hand and then Bria’s.
“You like our music?” I ask. “Do you have a favorite song?”
“Ah, man, I like all of them, but ‘Sins on Sunday’ is my favorite. My wife loves ‘Not a Day.’ She sings it all the time. She’s not as good as you guys, but I gotta love her for trying.”
His wife. He tells us about seeing us for the first time at a club last month, and I realize he’s not looking at Bria like he wants to fuck her. He’s looking at her—at me—with awe.
“Hey, she’d kill me if I didn’t get a picture with you. Do you mind?”
“We’d be happy to,” Bria says. She turns to me. “Right?”
“Sure.”
Greg stands between us and snaps a selfie. “Claire is gonna freak.”
“Are you coming to the show later?” Bria asks.
Normally her saying something like that would have my skin crawling. Now, not so much.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says. “Especially now. Thanks for the picture and for taking time to talk to me. Not many people like you will do that.”
“We hope you enjoy the show.” I blow out a breath after he leaves. “That could have gone a lot worse.”
“Most fans are like that,” she says. “If you give them a chance.” She glares at me.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Hey, at least you didn’t have to use the safeword.”
“Crew, I’ll never use the safeword.”
I give her a heated stare. “Never?”
She blushes. I haven’t seen her do that in a month. My dick thickens.
She clears her throat. Yup, she’s thinking about it too. “Do you think we’ll need Thor in Florida?”
“I’ll insist on it,” I say.
“You like having him around, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen some big changes in you, Chris, and not just today.”
“I don’t want to brag or anything, but Dr. Hardy called me one of her favorite patients.”
She chuckles. “You do realize she probably says that to all her patients.”
“No way.”
We walk for hours, speculating what it might be like on tour. My phone buzzes with a text. “Looks like Queen Bitch wants us back.”
Bria pales. “Oh, God. Do you think she’ll go