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Jesus, maybe thiswasamistake.
Visions of my failure, of fucking up this audition and making a total fucking fool of myself, flashed through myhead…
ButI’d asked Jude to bring me this far, and now Maggie was involved. Liv was about tobe.
So fuck it. I was committednow.
I owed Jude thatmuch.
He was right about what he’d said when he fired me—the second time—on the band’s behalf. It was never about money, or even about the music. For the band, and for me, it was about far more thanthat.
It was about loyalty. Bandmates.Family.
And I could not walk away from that without afight.
I’d sworn to myself I’d never do thatagain.
But still… I was getting nervous as fuck about seeing the band. Aboutthemseeingme.
I hadn’t been face-to-face with any of the members of Dirty since they fired me over six months ago. Since the blowout with Dirty’s manager, Brody Mason, at the old church where the band wrote music and rehearsed; when he’d punched me in the face onstage—severaltimes.
I’d spoken with Zane a few times over the phone, briefly, and though he didn’t sound happy about it, his stance had been along the lines of:Not much I can do, brother. This is Brody and Jesse’sdeal.
Spoke with Dylan once over text, and he’d said pretty much the samething.
Neither Jesse or Brody would talk tome.
Elle hadn’t returned my calls to her assistant. That hurt the most, actually. Elle; knowing what she must’ve thought of me after what happened. Brody, attacking me in front of the band. Breaking mynose.
Accusing me ofrapingJessaMayes.
That memory made my guts churn now, just like it always did. But that, too, I had to face down. That was part of the deal in coming backhere.
Because I could not let an accusation like that lieforever.
I looked over at Elle and Ash in the hallway again… and I could see how she’d changed over the years. Still gorgeous. More so, maybe. More… polished. Glamorous, in her strapless white top, gold suspenders and low, tight jeans, stylishly ripped to shreds. Her long, platinum-blonde hair was straight and smoothed over one shoulder, a single, thick braid weaving the top of it back from her face. But despite the sun-kissed glow to her skin, her glossy lips, her fresh, flawlessly made-up face… she looked weary, underneath itall.
Or maybe it was just the conversation she was wearyof.
As Ash spoke quietly to her, close in her pretty face, she just nodded, her mouth tight. And it struck me: that I hadn’t been there to see her through all the bullshit that came along with the success, the insanity of thefame.
I’d let herdown.
I’d let them alldown.
I watched her turn and walk away, my gaze falling to her tight, perfect ass in her fitted jeans. Then she disappeared through adoor.
Ash stood there for a moment after Elle left, staring at the wall. Then heturned.
He looked straight atme.
I’d forgotten that I was supposed to be practicing my song, and our eyes met. Recognition crashed over his features and he started toward the opendoor.
“This what I think it is?” he asked, stepping into the room with me. He looked around into every corner, like he was expecting someone else to behere.
My heart was beating a little too hard, so I took a breath. I had no idea where I stood with Ash. Hopefully not the same place I stood withBrody.
“If you think I’m here to audition, thenyes.”
