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“I know that, Lace. Believe me I’m very aware of that fact.” He tenderly framed my face with his hands. I melted when he brushed his thumbs softly across my cheeks. The roar of the ocean and the cry of the seagulls receded, giving way to the thundering sound of my pulse in my ears. We both stared at each other. I could see myself reflected in his gorgeous eyes.

Bryan swallowed, breathed my name in a whisper, and then his lips touched mine. My body erupted with sensation: warmth at the point of contact, tingling across the surface of my skin, and molten heat inside that all but consumed me.

It was just as I’d always dreamed it would be with him, only better.

My fingers fisted in his shirt. I suddenly needed something to hold onto to keep my balance in a world that felt like it was shifting beneath my feet. In a world that had suddenly been reduced to just the two of us.

His lips moved, a gentle persuasion, coaxing mine to open. The shaking escalated into a seismic explosion the instant his tongue rubbed softly against my own.

I tasted him.

He moaned.

I whimpered for more.

But then suddenly, he pulled away, creating a separation I knew neither of us really wanted.

And if I’d known at the time just how wide that gulf would become, I never would have let go of him.

12

I watched as the last of Lace’s admirers congratulated her on her performance. I was just about to go over and do the same when War showed up, the tail end of a black scarf trailing behind him as he approached her at a swift clip.

I stopped. Tension held me fisted in its grip. The realization hitting me hard that wish all I wanted, War would always be a wedge between us.

“What the fuck, Lace?” War’s expression was livid. “Why the hell didn’t you do that yesterday when I asked you to?”

She didn’t answer but her chin rose.

“You’re doing it just like that tomorrow night in Atlanta.”

“No, War. I’m not.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “I was just messing around for King and Sager.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Lace,” War bellowed as they faced off like two opponents in a ring.

“I’m my own person, Warren Jinkins!” she yelled, leaning in toward him, her hands moving to her hips. “Stop riding me about this. I’ll decide what I will and won’t do.”

“War,” I walked over to him with my hands out. “Maybe you should…”

“Stay the fuck out of it, Bryan,” he shouted, his anger veering toward me.

Lace took advantage of the distraction I’d provided and spun around, her footsteps echoing as she stomped off the stage.

War’s eyes cut back to me. “Bullet.”

“Not this time, man. I’m through with being the peacemaker. You want her, you go after her. Only let me suggest you let her cool down first if you want to get anywhere.”

“Hey, guys.”

We both turned as Marcus Anthony strutted up to us like he owned the place. “BS is up.”

Was this asshole totally oblivious? His timing certainly sucked.

“Back the fuck off, chief.” War pointed to his watch. “Tempest’s still got five more minutes.”

Marcus frowned.

I grinned. Shit like this reminded me why War and I were so tight. I was tempted to give him a congratulatory fist bump right there in front of Marcus’ arrogant face. I mean just because BS was headlining, and Marcus got to fly around in a big jet while we rode on tour buses with the roadies didn’t mean his shit didn’t stink. It hadn’t been that long ago that Brutal Strength had been an opening band just like us. And it hadn’t been that long ago that Marcus’ fist had made a little contact with my face. Granted I punched him first. But still.

In a blatantly dismissive move, War turned his back on Marcus and stepped up to the center mic. He tapped it once, and looked over his shoulder at King. “’My Way or the Highway.’ Count it out.”

When we got back to the hotel, War jogged up beside me. “Got a minute?’

“Sure.” I stopped. “What’s up?”

He threw an arm over my shoulder and steered me to the right. “Come get a drink with me in the bar.”

As soon as we entered the low lit lounge that was heavy, and I mean heavy as in every available surface covered in Philadelphia Eagles motif, War excused himself. “Order me a beer. I’ll be right back.”

I grabbed a seat and was already nursing a Kinsinger, munching on some peanuts, and watching the game on the wall mounted television when War returned from the restroom. He sniffed a couple of times. I frowned, not fooled for a minute.

“You told me you’d stopped doing that shit,” I said glaring at him, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the television.

War cast a nervous glance around the half empty room.

A sudden prickle of unease tingled its way along my scalp. A disturbing thought occurred to me. What if Lace was doing drugs with him? No way. She wouldn’t. She’d just been drunk the other night. That was all. After the crap we’d seen with her mother, I’d totally ruled it out, and Lace hadn’t just seen it, she’d lived it. Pushing that concern back down, I leaned in closer. “Seriously War I don’t want a repeat of the RCA tour. It took me six months to pay off my part of the advance. I’ve almost rebuilt enough savings to get my mom into a house. Don’t fuck this up for us, man.”

“I’m not, Mama Jackson. I just needed a little help to be on for tonight’s show. Don’t go all narc on me just because you don’t do ‘em. I’ve got it under control.”

“Really? You almost slept past sound check today.”

War frowned and reached for the beer bottle the bartender placed on a coaster in front of him. He tipped it back between his fingers and took a swig. “Now that you mentioned band stuff, I didn’t like the way you countermanded me in front of everyone, especially when it comes to Lace.”

I tensed.

“Before you get all defensive. I realize it’s been difficult having her on the bus with us.” War turned to look at me, elbows propped up on the bar.

He had no fucking idea.

“I want you to hear me out though. Tempest has a real good thing going on right now.” He threw the scarf back behind his shoulder and leaned back in his bar stool. “You’ve seen the press stuff that PR chick from Black Cat keeps emailing over?”

I nodded.

“’We’re Through’ is top ten on the Billboard. That’s fucking huge.” War pulled his sunglasses off his head and tossed them on the bar before taking another swig of beer. “Bryan, I know you weren’t happy when I insisted that we take the deal that excluded Lace. But the fact that we’re about to hit it big just proves to me that it was the right decision.”

Deep down, I had to agree. But if it had been up to me, I would have left that deal on the table. I never would have left her behind. “Then why are you pushing so hard to get her to perform with us?”

“Same reason I wanted her to come out with us on the road when we were with RCA. Visibility. Exposure. You heard her today. She’s the shit. All it’s gonna take is the right person to hear. She has the potential to be a bigger deal than that British chick who came out of nowhere last year and won a Grammy.” He stared at me his eyes narrowed. “Lace doesn’t know what’s good for her. If left up to her, she makes piss poor decisions like hooking up with a guy like Martin. If it weren’t for that she’d probably already be a big star.”