Turning on my heel and prepared to march back inside, I found Houston, Loren, and Jericho crowding the doorway, stopping me in my tracks. They’d gotten their kicks making me play the same song for ten hours straight until I hit every note the way Houston wanted without fail.

“I may not play as well as you, but I’m not stupid. There’s a reason you agreed to this, and I may not know what that reason is, but I do know something. I was either your only choice or your best chance. That means you need me.”

“Your point?” Loren asked. It didn’t escape my notice that he didn’t bother to deny it. None of them did.

“My car broke down yesterday.”

“Ah, so that’s your price. I can’t say I’m surprised. Just disappointed.” Sliding his hands in his pockets, Loren gave me a jaded look. “What will you have? A Jeep? A mini Coop? A BMW? Let me guess…roof optional, am I right?”

“I don’t want you to buy me a new car, jackass. I want a ride.”

Loren blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Until I can save enough money to fix my car, I’m on foot. The buses do not come this far uphill. I had to walk a mile this morning to get to you.”

Loren shrugged, unimpressed. “So call an Uber.”

“Every day, round trip, for the next three months? I don’t think so. I bring home minimum wage as a hostess for rich prom queens like you. I can barely afford my bills, let alone catering to your petulant whims. No ride, no Braxton. You can explain to the label why I didn’t work out.”

“Anything else?” Houston inquired in the most unaccommodating tone ever.

“Yes.” Lifting my chin, I didn’t let my gaze waver. “I take my coffee black. That shouldn’t be too hard for you to remember.”

“The fuck?” Loren spat. “Do we look like we give a damn?”

“Do I look like a punching bag? If you want me here before the sun rises, I’ll need coffee. Until the three of you see me as your equal, you’ll be fetching it until further notice.”

My phone pinged again with a warning that my ride would be leaving soon, so I turned and left, leaving my new bandmates without the last word. By the time I made it down the drive, got into the backseat of the Uber, and closed the door on another complicated day, I had three new notifications on my phone. All direct messages on Instagram.

[thebassistLo]: I’m so turned on right now

I frowned at that since I didn’t recall unblocking him. I did recall leaving my phone unattended when Houston finally let me have a bathroom break. What kind of needy prick unblocks themselves from someone else’s social media? Shaking my head, I checked my other messages, not bothering to block Loren again.

[_richnoble]: ;-)

[Houston_Bound]: A car will collect you at six thirty

Ignoring the first two, I responded to Houston’s message.

[BraxtheFawn]: How do you know where I live?

Twenty minutes later, the Uber dropped me off. Once inside, I immediately headed for the shower while the bathroom hogs were out. I planned to enjoy the peace—however long it lasted. I knew Griff and Maeko would want every detail, and I wasn’t ready to relive my tortuous first day with three jaded rock gods.

They thought way too much of themselves.

With a tired sigh, I collapsed on my bed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. The moment I closed my eyes, my phone chimed. Mustering up the last drop of energy I had, I rolled over and grabbed my phone only to feel my blood boil.

[Houston_Bound]: Don’t be late.

He hadn’t even bothered to answer my question.

Fucker.

The next morning, a car arrived as promised. The driver introduced himself as Barry before opening my door. He also told me that he sometimes drove Bound to events whenever they were in town. It was all a little surreal. It only got stranger when Barry pulled into the parking lot of a Starbucks and, after going inside, came out carrying a tray filled with four coffee cups.

“For you, ma’am.” Barry handed me the one with my name on it, but I was too nervous to drink, so I rode the entire way to the Beverly Hills home, holding the coffee between my shaking hands.

Pull it together, Fawn. They can probably smell fear.

When Barry arrived at the gate, I asked him to stop for a moment before driving through. Rolling down the back window where I sat on the side facing the security booth, I extended my still-hot coffee to the guard from yesterday.

“Truce?” I asked when his gaze moved back and forth between me and the cup.

I bet he thinks I poisoned it.

If I ever decided to risk life in prison, I’d definitely go big.

Perhaps murdering my new bandmates?

Slowly, the guard took the Starbucks before taking a sip, grinning, and waving us through.

Sitting back, I sighed my relief. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

She’s a goddamn disaster.

Braxton played better than the meatheads we auditioned, but she still needed work. A lot of work. Some would argue that my standards were too high, but only pussies with none at all ever said shit like that.

“That was slow and mechanical,” I told her the moment she finished butchering one of our bigger hits. “By the time you pieced together the right chords, the song was over. You need to get out of your head. When you’re in my session, there’s nothing for you in there. Play from here.” I tapped my chest where a heart used to be. I felt like a hypocrite. Sighing, I dropped my hand when Braxton stared at me like she wasn’t impressed. “Or at least play like you have some fucking guts, Fawn.”

Nostrils flaring, she straightened her shoulders. “I want to do it again.”

“You say that like you have a choice.”

I watched her roll her eyes from my peripheral but didn’t comment on it. Three months wasn’t enough time to get sidetracked with other shit like her fucking attitude and why it made my dick hard.

Today, she’d pinned her hair up, showing off her long neck and the black choker with a gold, crescent moon hanging from it. She also wore a short, white sundress that made her look virginal and black combat boots that made her look less so. To make matters worse, she’d decided that skipping a bra today had been a smart choice. I didn’t get the look she was going for, but it worked for her, nonetheless. It was like she was fighting both sides of the same coin.

Braxton was older than I had guessed initially but still young. She’d only turned twenty-two a few months ago, which meant that as much as she pretended, she was still figuring out who she was.

She tried the song again, which was better, but she still sounded like she was making noise instead of a melody. If I were being fair, she played well enough that it took a trained ear to know the difference. On her third attempt, when she seemed to retreat inside her head again, I shot up from the couch with a growl so loud it roused Loren with a snort from his slumber next to me.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” I demanded as I charged her. She didn’t back down to her credit, but I couldn’t care less about her mettle. She was wasting my time.

“Excuse me?”

“Where is the girl from the festival? I didn’t invite this meek, mild bullshit you brought to my session. Either get out of your head or get out of my sight.”

Her thick lips parted in shock before closing only to open once more so she could run her mouth. “Do not talk to me that way.” Her fist balled in warning—one I didn’t heed. I was willing to risk a broken nose if it meant getting her to play from her marrow.

“Or what?” I pushed up on her, backing her into the wall and trapping her there with my hand next to her head.

Braxton tipped her chin, not willing to break my stare. “Or I’ll leave.”

“Only if I let you.” She was making me contradict my goddamn self.

“What do you want from me, Morrow?”

With my free hand, I fingered the frilly sleeve resting off her shoulder. I wanted to kiss the bare skin there, and had she been a groupie instead of my new guitarist, I would have. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Not to me.” She searched my gaze before narrowing her own. “It seems like you want me to quit.”

“Yesterday, you told me that I needed you. Now you accuse me of trying to get you to quit? I’m confused, Fawn.”

“So am I.”

I sighed before stepping back and giving her space. “What I want is irrelevant, but you were right. I need you. I need you to play like you want to be here. Do you?”

“I’m not sure anymore.”

For fuck’s sake.

“There’s a reason why you turned left instead of right. Whatever that reason is, don’t forget it now when there’s no turning back. Some good just might come out of this for you, so make the most of it while you can.”

She gaped at me in disgust before shrieking, “Is that supposed to be motivating?”

Loren and Rich snorted in response.

“Decide for yourself. Just stop wasting my time.” Walking over to one of the cases we’d piled in the living room, I snatched up one of the microphones I’d brought from Portland. Loren and Rich, always in sync with me despite our rocky friendship, were already in place—Rich behind his drums and Loren plugged in and clutching his bass.