his
forlorn expression without being able to comfort him. Trey Mills should never
look depressed. He should only look sexy and mischievous and like he didn’t
have a care in the world. Reagan just had to figure out how to get him back to
that place of carefree happiness.
Dare
nodded as though he understood, but he looked almost as excited to perform
tonight as Reagan felt about it as he flipped his guitar strap over his head
and released a deep sigh.
Fucking
tabloids. Dare had been hurt by that rash of articles too. He was just taking
it better than Reagan had.
“Maybe
someone else wrote those articles,” Logan said, still on his mission to defend
Toni. “Do you have proof that she wrote them?”
Max
grabbed him by one arm and shook him. “Open your goddamned eyes, Logan! Did
anyone else have access to all that information?”
Logan
stared up at him, his blue eyes wide. Max was always so calm and cool. Reagan
had never seen him the least bit upset about anything.
“Did
anyone besides Toni know all those details?” Max asked.
“You,”
Logan said. “And all of us.”
“Are
you suggesting that one of us told the tabloids about Vic?”
Logan
cringed. “Of course not.”
“We’ve
managed to keep that story a secret for how many years?” Max asked, his nose an
inch from Logan’s. Reagan was starting to feel bad for the guy. She sure as
hell wouldn’t want to be on Max’s bad side. And Logan hadn’t done anything
wrong. Except fall for a back-stabbing bitch.
“I
don’t know,” Logan said. “Ten years or so. What does it matter?”
“Because
Toni Nichols is the only one outside of the band who learned about my
involvement with Vic. And a couple weeks later, that little tidbit is published
in the goddamned American Inquirer . Coincidence?”
“Maybe.”
Logan said, slapping Max’s hand off his arm.
“She
fucked you in more way than one, Lo,” Steve said, his voice defeated. “She
fucked us all.”
“She’s
not like that!” Logan insisted.
Steve
rolled his eyes at him. “I don’t mean she literally spread her legs and fucked
us. I meant—”
“Of
course she didn’t,” Logan blurted. “She also wouldn’t hurt any of us on
purpose. She’s kind and gentle and loving and . . . and loyal .”
“You
are delusional,” Steve said. “You better get your shit together before we fire
you too.”
Logan
crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Whatever.”
Reagan
sidled up to Logan and patted him on the arm. “No one blames you.”
“Of
course no one blames me,” he snapped.
His
temper threw Reagan off guard. He was usually so cheerful. This was a side of
Logan she’d never seen.
“And
no one should blame her either.”
“Did
you see what she wrote about you?” Steve said. “Besides where she insinuated
that we’re gay.” He leaned in close and made a biting motion next to Logan’s
ear. “With each other.”
Logan
shook his head, his normally tanned complexion pale and waxy. “What did it
say?”
“It
wasn’t nice,” Dare said. “Let’s get onstage. Everything real seems less
important from up there.”
The
five of them shambled under the stage and found their respective places. A few
moments later, Steve’s drum platform began to rise out of the stage behind
Reagan. Her heart would typically be racing with anticipation and excitement.
Tonight, however, while she felt obligated to do her best, she wasn’t eager to
get her place in the spotlight. Maybe she could hide out under the stage and
play her guitar out of sight. Before she could hop off her platform and secure
a handy hiding spot, the metal plate beneath her shook and began its ascent. She
played the proper notes of the song’s riff, but found she was abusing the
strings as her rage boiled over into her music. Have to sleep my way into
the band, my ass , she thought as her instrument wailed in perfect harmony
with Dare’s lead. I might be a lot of things, but talentless isn’t one of
them,
forlorn expression without being able to comfort him. Trey Mills should never
look depressed. He should only look sexy and mischievous and like he didn’t
have a care in the world. Reagan just had to figure out how to get him back to
that place of carefree happiness.
Dare
nodded as though he understood, but he looked almost as excited to perform
tonight as Reagan felt about it as he flipped his guitar strap over his head
and released a deep sigh.
Fucking
tabloids. Dare had been hurt by that rash of articles too. He was just taking
it better than Reagan had.
“Maybe
someone else wrote those articles,” Logan said, still on his mission to defend
Toni. “Do you have proof that she wrote them?”
Max
grabbed him by one arm and shook him. “Open your goddamned eyes, Logan! Did
anyone else have access to all that information?”
Logan
stared up at him, his blue eyes wide. Max was always so calm and cool. Reagan
had never seen him the least bit upset about anything.
“Did
anyone besides Toni know all those details?” Max asked.
“You,”
Logan said. “And all of us.”
“Are
you suggesting that one of us told the tabloids about Vic?”
Logan
cringed. “Of course not.”
“We’ve
managed to keep that story a secret for how many years?” Max asked, his nose an
inch from Logan’s. Reagan was starting to feel bad for the guy. She sure as
hell wouldn’t want to be on Max’s bad side. And Logan hadn’t done anything
wrong. Except fall for a back-stabbing bitch.
“I
don’t know,” Logan said. “Ten years or so. What does it matter?”
“Because
Toni Nichols is the only one outside of the band who learned about my
involvement with Vic. And a couple weeks later, that little tidbit is published
in the goddamned American Inquirer . Coincidence?”
“Maybe.”
Logan said, slapping Max’s hand off his arm.
“She
fucked you in more way than one, Lo,” Steve said, his voice defeated. “She
fucked us all.”
“She’s
not like that!” Logan insisted.
Steve
rolled his eyes at him. “I don’t mean she literally spread her legs and fucked
us. I meant—”
“Of
course she didn’t,” Logan blurted. “She also wouldn’t hurt any of us on
purpose. She’s kind and gentle and loving and . . . and loyal .”
“You
are delusional,” Steve said. “You better get your shit together before we fire
you too.”
Logan
crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “Whatever.”
Reagan
sidled up to Logan and patted him on the arm. “No one blames you.”
“Of
course no one blames me,” he snapped.
His
temper threw Reagan off guard. He was usually so cheerful. This was a side of
Logan she’d never seen.
“And
no one should blame her either.”
“Did
you see what she wrote about you?” Steve said. “Besides where she insinuated
that we’re gay.” He leaned in close and made a biting motion next to Logan’s
ear. “With each other.”
Logan
shook his head, his normally tanned complexion pale and waxy. “What did it
say?”
“It
wasn’t nice,” Dare said. “Let’s get onstage. Everything real seems less
important from up there.”
The
five of them shambled under the stage and found their respective places. A few
moments later, Steve’s drum platform began to rise out of the stage behind
Reagan. Her heart would typically be racing with anticipation and excitement.
Tonight, however, while she felt obligated to do her best, she wasn’t eager to
get her place in the spotlight. Maybe she could hide out under the stage and
play her guitar out of sight. Before she could hop off her platform and secure
a handy hiding spot, the metal plate beneath her shook and began its ascent. She
played the proper notes of the song’s riff, but found she was abusing the
strings as her rage boiled over into her music. Have to sleep my way into
the band, my ass , she thought as her instrument wailed in perfect harmony
with Dare’s lead. I might be a lot of things, but talentless isn’t one of
them,
Similar Books
