She gives me an easy smile, ignoring my hostility, and changes the topic. “So how’s the new lead singer doing?”

I shrug. “She’s doing pretty good. Her and the guys got most of the songs down.” I leave it at that and gulp the rest of my drink.

She eyes me. “Everything with you going okay?”

I nod toward the waiter. “Yes, it’s great. I’m just hungry. I don’t think I ate anything all day.”

The waiter approaches and we order our food and I order another drink. For the first time, I don’t want to be out with Amy. Our relationship has always been casual and we’ve always gotten along really well, but tonight she seems to be pushing all my buttons.

She passes the rolls, and conversation with dinner seems to go better. We talk about music and bands, and the topics stay neutral. Once I pay the bill, I lean my head back in the booth and close my eyes. “I should get going.” My words come out slurred.

“Are you drunk?” Amy asks, the word rolling off her tongue in a nonaccusatory way.

“Yes,” I answer proudly and open my eyes. “I think I am.”

She reaches across the table to place her hand over mine. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me and sleep it off?”

I have to grin, because a night out with Amy always ends up the same way. “Sure, why not? But the bus is pulling out first thing in the morning for New York City and I have to be back.”

“Xander, I’m sure you’ll be up, and if not, the bus is moving less than twenty miles away. You could always take a cab.”

I laugh. “Yeah, when you put it like that it does sound kind of ridiculous. I just wonder if the bus would wait for me.”

She giggles and stands up from the table. “Come on, let’s go.”

The elevator ride seems to last forever and the walk to her room seems even longer. When we finally arrive, she unlocks the door and ushers me in.

“Want a drink?” she asks.

“I think I’m good,” I reply.

I sit in one of the chairs, hoping that will stop the room from spinning.

“I’m going to brush my teeth. I’ll be right back,” she says, disappearing into the bathroom.

I close my eyes and start to fade away, but her voice jolts me up.

“You seem off tonight. Are you okay?” she asks for the second time this evening.

I straighten up and look over at her. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping great lately.” I try to focus on her. She’s got a toothbrush in her mouth and she’s leaning against the bathroom door wearing nothing but some sexy underwear. She looks hot, and my body responds before my mind can think. She turns back into the bathroom and after a few minutes she turns the light off and crosses the room. She kneels in front of me and presses her palms on my thighs. She slides her hands upward to my zipper and tugs it down.

“Let me help you get undressed,” she says.

There’s nothing I want more at this moment than to forget Ivy, but I can’t do that to Amy. If I do this with her it would just make me more of an ass**le than I’ve already been tonight.

“Amy, no,” I whisper, trying to sober up and stop her before she frees my half-hard cock.

She looks at me wide-eyed. “Why?”

“I just can’t right now. I’ve had too much to drink.”

“You look fine to me,” she says, staring at my erection.

“Not because of that.”

She stands up with a sad smile. “Oh. Right. I get it.”

“I think I should get back to the bus and see how the show went.”

“Xander, you can talk to me, you know. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Amy, really I’m just tired,” I lie.

“Okay. But at least let me drive you back. Jane rented a car and had me run errands earlier, so I still have the keys.”

I nod. “Sure. Thanks.”

She pulls out a shirt and a pair of shorts from her suitcase and slips them on, then pockets the car keys and we leave.

• • •

With a crash and a bang, I manage to pull the door to the bus open and climb the steps. I stand there in the entrance to the front lounge and brace myself against the doorframe. Amy slides under my arm. I think she thinks I need help walking, but really I’m just more tired than drunk.

“I’m home,” I announce. As the words come out, I can hear my speech. It’s slightly slurred. My eyes are glassy, I’m sure.

Garrett raises an eyebrow. “You’re drunk, man. What happened to you?”

I shrug and stand there silently as I look into Ivy’s eyes. She’s sitting at the table watching me. Her eyes fill with hurt as she studies the situation.

“Hi, Garrett,” Amy says.

“How are you? How’d you get stuck with him?”

Amy laughs. “I asked him to meet me for a drink.”

Narrowing her eyes on Amy, Ivy stands up.

“Hi, Ivy,” Amy says to her. “How’s the tour going?”

Ivy glares at her with a look I’ve never seen before. “It’s great,” she says benignly. “I was just going to bed,” she adds and hurries out of the room.

Garrett comes over and hoists me up, relieving Amy of my weight, which I seem to have bestowed upon her.

“What’s with her?” I ask Garrett.

“You. You’re an ass**le.”

My lip curls. “Clue me the f**k in. Why am I an ass**le?”

“We were worried about you. You’ve never missed a show. We’ve been calling you. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and squint at the screen. “Never heard it. It’s still on VIBRATE from rehearsal.” And laughing, I add, “I never felt it, either.”

He rolls his eyes at me.

“I didn’t know I needed to check in.”

“You don’t, man. Forget it. Come on, let me help you to your bed,” he says, moving toward the door. The air still smells like Ivy and I breathe it in.

I turn around. “Sorry about tonight,” I tell Amy.

“Don’t worry about it. You were actually a lot of fun and pretty entertaining.”

“Well, thank you for everything.” Meanwhile I’m wondering how the hell she thinks I was the least bit fun.

She places her hand over her smiling mouth like she’s putting on a show. “My pleasure,” she says, then adds, “I think I saw on your schedule that we’re both in Bristow, Virginia, next month. Call me and you can make it up to me then.”

“I will.” I’m starting to feel like the ass**le Garrett just called me.

“’Bye, Garrett,” she says.

“Thanks for the delivery,” Garrett responds.

She climbs down the steps and disappears, waving to me as she goes.

“You’re a real knight in shining armor,” Garrett says mockingly, shaking his head.

I break loose from his grip. “I got this, man. I need a shower before I have to lie down and listen to the  p**n  show going on.”

He laughs. “I’m guessing you were too drunk to get laid, then.”

“You could say that,” is all I say before hitting a cold shower for the second time today.

CHAPTER 9

I’m Alive

The black Escalade idles in downtown Manhattan. Rain pounds on the roof. Our show was rained out, so the band is heading to a Panic performance in New York’s Bowery Ballroom instead. We’re all ensconced in the chauffeured SUV outside the W, all except for Ivy. We’ve been waiting for her for at least twenty minutes. She got a phone call from Damon as we were walking out of the hotel and decided to take it in private. I try not to think about what that douchebag is talking to her about.

I’m in the front seat, turned around talking to Leif. We’re discussing the shredding abilities he demonstrated at last night’s show. Ivy sang a cover of “I Kissed a Girl” and out of nowhere Leif riffs during the chorus, making the song even more appealing to the audience.

“Hey, Xander, what’s with Panic’s underplay? I didn’t think they needed any promo assistance,” Nix calls to me.

Phoebe looks at him. “Underplay?”

He answers, “It’s when a big-name band performs in a small venue and instantly sells out. It helps get a new album noticed.”

“I think they’re a little nervous after coming off the momentum of their first two albums and because of the split. I think they just want to make sure they keep their groove going.”

The door finally opens and Ivy, covered by an umbrella, climbs in and sits next to Leif. She seems a little nervous and she’s definitely been crying. Leif leans over and whispers something in her ear. She answers him and he makes a face.

The driver slides the SUV into the traffic and spins a tight circle before accelerating. I stay twisted in my seat, my eyes glued on Ivy. “Is everything okay?”

She frowns and looks out the window¸ muttering, “Nothing that you need to worry about.”

My eyes flash to Leif’s and he shakes his head, making sure his eyes are locked on mine. He’s signaling me that everything is not okay. I turn around in my seat and watch the people on the street and the lights turning red and green, just waiting to get out of this car and talk to her.

We arrive at 6 Delancey Street, and it’s a mob scene. People are everywhere, waiting in line to get in, scalpers hovering to sell their tickets at a markup, and fans are camped out hoping to catch a glimpse of the lucky ones who got tickets and maybe even the band members themselves. Ellie somehow managed to get tickets for us. She’s been really on the ball and I’m thankful for her help.

The door opens and immediately we’re ushered through the crowds and into the club. Garrett and Nix stop at the bar to get drinks.

“Do you care what we get?” Garrett asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. “Anything is fine with me.”

I’ve had enough to drink the past couple of nights, so I’ll lie low on the alcohol tonight. I turn to ask Ivy what she wants, but she and Leif already went ahead. The place is split in two—one side is the bar and the other side is the club. On the club side, the room is decorated with big white wreaths and candelabras set on the balcony tables, and a violinist is standing to one side of the stage. A band I don’t know much about is already playing, but my mind isn’t on the show. It’s on Ivy and what’s going on.

As soon as I get the opportunity, I make my way over to her and stand behind her. Her hair’s pulled up on top of her head, and she’s wearing a tight sleeveless white dress with high-heeled silver sandals and her sapphire earrings, which sparkle in the light from the stage—she looks f**king amazing. But she’s also a little twitchy and constantly tucking pieces of her hair in place. I can tell the conversation with Damon really got to her.

“What’s going on?” I whisper in her ear loud enough so she can hear me but not loud enough so anyone else can.

She turns her head. “That was a really shitty thing to do!”

I whip her around to look at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Not showing up for the show so you could go out on a date with Amy.”

I sigh. “That’s not what happened.”

“Did you sleep with her last night?”

My jaw tenses. “No,” I snap and peg her with my eyes. “If I did, would you be jealous?”

“No.” She exhales. She presses her bright red lips together. “It’s none of my business anyway. Guess I was just curious. I shouldn’t have asked,” she says, shrugging and then looking back toward the stage.

“You can ask me anything, Ivy. You should know that.”

She doesn’t answer in any way—no words and no body language as she focuses on the stage.

I take the silence to mean that conversation is over, and so I shift back to my original question. “I asked you what’s going on with Damon. Why are you upset?”

She twists her head back toward me and her body leans into mine as her lips brush my ear. My hands move to her waist and I squeeze my fingers a little.

“Drinks for everyone,” Garrett says, shoving glasses toward both of us.

She steps forward and turns toward Garrett to take the glass. Wanting to close the last few inches she just put between us, I take a step in her direction and snatch the drink that Garrett practically shoves in my face.

“What the hell is this?” I ask, pointing to the pink straw extending out of the glass filled with ice and a blue liquid.

“It’s a mind eraser.”

Within moments Ivy sucks all of the liquid out of the glass in one swallow.

I follow suit and the cold liquid slides down my throat. “Fuck!” I yell. “That gave me a head rush.”

Ivy actually laughs, loudly. “It’s supposed to. That’s why it’s called a mind eraser.”

“Well, I’m done with those.”

She laughs again and I smile at her. For a moment there is no hostility, no tension . . . just us having a good time. I think I miss that most of all—the ease of being with her. Doing anything or nothing, we always had fun. She always made me laugh.

Garrett goes into detail about what the bartender put in the shot we just drank and then lists a multitude of other shots that have quirky effects. I’m not really listening to him—I’m thinking about Ivy and why she’d ask me about Amy, and about what’s going on with Damon. I just can’t stop thinking about her.

Finally, Panic takes the stage. It’s just them—no elaborate stage settings, no theatrics, just pure music. The kind of music I love. Ivy dances her way over toward Leif before I can bring us back to the conversation we left unfinished. He clutches her h*ps and starts dancing with her. He’s been pretty hands on since breaking up with his girl, and I’m starting to wonder if they do have something going on. As I watch them, the tension in my body starts to strain my muscles.