no business going off on you. And I certainly never meant to flip any triggers inside you, or—”
“I know that, man. It’s not your fault. My childhood was…ugly, and some of those memories came out of nowhere…blindsiding me.” Syd scrubbed a hand over his face and sucked in a shaky breath.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Fuck no. Never. I’ve shoved that shit back in the coffin where it belongs.”
“I’m sorry I made you have to do that in the first place. The minute I saw the look in your eyes, I knew I’d… Fuck, I’m so sorry, Syd.” My voice cracked, unable to withstand the weight of regret and guilt crushing down on me.
He wrapped me in a tight hug and clapped me on the back. “Stop beating yourself up. Come on, bro…buck up. There’s no crying in rock and roll.”
I choked out a laugh. When Syd released me, I palmed my eyes and dragged in a ragged breath. Resting my forearms on the wooden fence, I stared off into the waning sun. “Mia’s fucking with my head, bad. Real bad.”
“We know. I shouldn’t have punched your hot button. It was stupid of me. I’m sorry.”
“Dammit, Syd, I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He sent me a crooked smile. “I guess that just makes us a couple of sorry fucks, doesn’t it?” I nodded. “Aside from not teasing you about Mia anymore, what can I do to help?”
“Shoot me?”
“No fucking way. Quinn would probably hire that muscle-bound GQ model Duke to replace you,” Syd spat derisively. “We’d have to kill him and bury him in a shallow grave somewhere.”
“Kill him, why?”
“’Cause that pretty-boy prick would snag up all the good pussy after our shows.”
I barked out a laugh and shook my head. “No, he wouldn’t. Burk’s got Sofia. Darren has Tori. And Ross has…”
“His hand,” Syd quipped solemnly.
“Yeah.” I chuckled.
“I’m keeping you around so I’m a shoo-in for all the pussy, since you don’t tap any of the groupies.”
“Yeah, I suppose you are. I’m not opposed to pussy, it’s just that—”
“You’re not interested in any pussy but hers?”
“Yeah.”
“So, Mia’s the one who’s had you knotted up all this time?”
“Sadly, yeah.”
“Wait a minute. After you kicked her to the curb, you were having a fine time with the groupies.”
“I tried to, but…” I shrugged. “I finally realized none of them were ever going to compare, so…I just stopped searching. When I get too knotted up, I’ll pick one from the crowd, but it’s nothing more than stress release.”
“Is that what you were doing with Mia earlier…a little stress release?”
“Yeah.”
Syd laughed. “Who you bullshitting? Me or yourself, bro?”
His question made my heart clutch.
“If you two girls are done kissing and making up, march your Louis Vuittons inside. Dinner’s on the table,” Ross yelled from the back porch.
“How the fuck does he know what Louis Vuittons are?” Syd’s brows slashed together.
“Maybe he’s a closet cross-dresser.”
“That’s a frightening thought.” Syd shivered.
“Are we good?” I asked uneasily.
Syd smiled, grabbed my face between his hands, and kissed my cheek. “We’re good, sweetheart. Let’s go eat.”
“You fucking idiot,” I groused, wiping my cheek on my sleeve. “I love you, brother.”
“Love you, too, man.”
We entered the lodge, filled our plates, and then strolled into the dining room. Mia wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere. Maybe she was in the bathroom. After taking a seat across from Burk and Sofia, I dug into the pile of barbecued ribs, baked beans, and potato salad with gusto. But when Mia failed to join us after several long minutes, I wiped my mouth on my napkin and cleared my throat.
“Where’s Mia?”
The fork in Sofia’s fingers dropped to her plate with a clatter as she flashed me an incredulous glare.
“Sweetheart,” Burk warned softly.
“No. Don’t sweetheart me,” she snapped, fire shooting from her pale gray eyes. “She’s in her room, crying her heart out.”
My stomach clutched. “Crying? Why?”
“Are you serious right now?” Sofia screeched. “She should have cut your balls off for the hateful way you treated her in the studio.”
“Hateful? I wasn’t hateful, and you weren’t even there.”
“No. But I heard about it when the guys got back, and she went flying upstairs all brokenhearted. How could you treat her like that? What the hell has gotten into you Ozzy? Better yet, who are you? You’re definitely not the man I spent months on a tour bus with. Whatever you’ve done with the real Ozzy Page, you need to find him and tell him to get his ass back here, and I mean…now!”
“Are you