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“Yeah, I know.”
“I should be satisfied with where I’m at, right?” I glance over at him, eager for answers. Desperate for him to point me in the right direction. “Music should be enough.”
“Nothing’s wrong with wanting a relationship, Hail,” Liam replies. “I know I’m not the best person to promote that notion.”
I can’t help but snort. “You’re really not. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
He shakes his head. “No interest, thanks.”
I draw a leg up and cradle it against my chest. “I may have fucked things up tonight. Everyone’s hoping Z will fill the hole you’re about to punch into the band. But I threw myself out there and pushed him to the edge…”
Liam sighs heavily. “Told you fuckers this old man is tuckered out.”
“I know. I get it.” I roll my eyes and chuckle.
“It’s not up to you to decide for him, Hail. He’ll figure out what he needs to do to get to where he wants to be. Might take a few months. Might take years.”
I nod and swipe at my stupid runny nose, struggling with the idea of not having Z in my life for that long.
Liam gives my head a little shove. “I envy your heart. You go to bat so hard for everyone you care about.”
“And I get left in the dust every time,” I mutter. “I envyyou. Cold-hearted Liam who never falls in love. Protects his heart with a barbed wire electric fence and swooping, man-eating vultures.”
“You’ve been spending too much time around Malek.”
I laugh, but it comes out more solemn than intended. “Thanks for listening. I think I’m gonna turn in.”
Liam smirks, rare dimples popping up on his cheeks. “You just don’t want to cry in front of me.”
I tug on the ends of his ridiculously long hair. “I do that too much already.”
Strolling back down the stairs, I hesitate at Z’s door. Indecision stretches me between our separate rooms. I want to check on him. I want to make things better. Mostly, I want to make sure he’s okay.
Knowing I’ll be as stiff as a board tomorrow morning, I slide down the wall next to his door and close my eyes.
If I keep lending my heart out as a doormat maybe someday I’ll have enough nerve damage like Liam that I won’t feel anything anymore.
Twenty-Three
Z
FIVE YEARS AGO
“Zander,”Lexdrawsoutthe sound of my name on a groan. He stumbles after me, lanky body edging the pool on the back patio of whatever random musician’s house we’re partying at tonight.
Our hidden identities offer us some privacy, but we still play a risky game of joining a wild party or two thrown behind scenes. Musicians assume we’re part of the crew or newbies just starting out, eager to make connections with celebrities.
“Z, I don’t feel right.” Lex clutches his shoulder-length dark hair at the roots. “Something’s wrong with my head.”
“Yeah, you’re high.” Scowling at his pathetic form, I brush him off, cutting for the patio doors. “Get some water and get your shit together before you embarrass us all.”
My attention refocuses on Jackson, our bassist, smiling coyly at me from the glass sliding doors. He’s wearing his black, sleeveless Slayer shirt under a leather jacket and fitted black jeans that make me salivate. His finger curls in a taunt before he spins around and disappears in the clusters of drunk people gathered in the kitchen.
Electric energy crackles under my skin. His intent has been clear from the way he’s been eye-fucking me on stage the last few weeks.
As soon as he found out I play hard for the other team, it was game on. We’ve jammed together for years. How did I miss the signs? We could have been hooking up a hell of a lot sooner.
“Can you just take me home?” Lex whines, grabbing onto my arm. God, the whole bad boy vibe he has on stage is a hoax. Right now, he’s nothing more than a baby I didn’t ask to take care of. Which is exactly what he is. If the fans knew who they were actually lusting after… He’s still underage and has already been exposed to more adult things than I will ever fess up to, all thanks to me.
