“But have you thought about what happens when this gets out? Don’t kid yourself into thinking it won’t, and I’m not keeping Braxton a secret.”

“Neither will I, but whose opinion are you so concerned about? Strangers we pass on the street? People we’ll never meet? Our families who don’t give a shit if we’re sad, much less if we’re happy? We get to define what true love is for ourselves. No one is entitled to do it for you. Once she’s mine, I’d never hurt her, neglect her, or let her forget that she’s the axis on which I spin. I can do the same with my best friends hanging around. We were already family, Lo. We built a career together. We share a house… We don’t even have separate bank accounts. What’s mine has always been yours. This world is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and the people in it would rather you be miserable as long as they’re comfortable. Why not carve out our own piece and be free to love how we choose?”

Loren was quiet for a moment, staring at the wall ahead of him before muttering, “Maybe.”

Afraid I might be forcing him into something his soul couldn’t take, I continued. “I’m not telling you that it’s wrong to want Braxton for yourself. It doesn’t make you anything other than who you are. But if your only objection is what other people will think—”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he said, cutting me off.

It was probably for the best since I could feel my heart racing inside my chest. This was the closest I’d come to keeping us all together. It wasn’t just about Bound. Besides my grandmother, Rich and Loren were the only family I ever truly cared about. I had to seize the opportunity Brax had unwittingly given us. I never thought sharing my woman was something I’d ever do. It contradicted everything I thought I knew about myself as a man, and I had the feeling no other woman could have convinced me to take such a leap of faith. No one.

“The girl always gets the most shit during a scandal,” he pointed out. “Men will pat us on our backs while Braxton is belittled by the same women vying to take her spot. Guys will assume she’s easy game. It—” A frustrated look twisted Loren’s features. “I already want to commit murder, and nothing’s even happened. She won’t even hear us out.”

“She will.”

“How?” Loren returned skeptically. “We buy her diamonds and flowers? You know Braxton better than that. She’ll just find the highest window and throw them out.”

I scratched my chin because he had a point. Braxton could hold a grudge and had the temper to keep it going. It definitely made me think twice about crossing her in the future.

“We’ll figure something out.” I tipped my chin toward the closed door of the spare bedroom. “Go make up with Rich. He’s always been Braxton’s favorite, and three heads are better than two.”

Eavesdropping is only wrong when you’re not the topic of conversation, right? It hadn’t been my intention to listen.

Okay, so maybe it had.

Their muffled voices had drawn me to the door, and when I heard Loren vowing not to keep me a secret, I couldn’t walk away. Once again, my heart and mind were at war.

All night, I replayed their conversation.

When the clock read a quarter to five in the morning, and I still couldn’t sleep, I found myself slipping into another dress and tiptoeing from our hotel suite. Not even Houston was awake, and he was the early riser. I’m sure it crossed their minds that I’d sneak out, but they’d never count on it being this early.

The sun was still a couple of hours from rising, and since the streets would be mostly empty this early, I wasn’t worried about being recognized.

Just to be sure, I borrowed the ball cap Houston had left on the kitchen counter. I might have even sniffed it a little for a hint of his shampoo before throwing it on and keeping the bill low.

I emerged from the hotel without being accosted as Houston would have claimed and spotted a French café just across the street. Even though they weren’t open yet, I could still smell the coffee and pastries.

My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d been too stubborn to come out last night to eat. Rich, Houston, and Loren had even knocked on my door twice each to ask if I was hungry.

So nice of them to be concerned when they thought it was too late.

As I wandered down East Seventy-Sixth and cut across Fifth Ave toward Central Park, I set my mind on deciding what I’d do once the tour was over. My advance had been generous, with more to come once the tour’s profits were divvied and distributed. I knew I wouldn’t get nearly as much as the guys, but I hoped I’d at least bank enough to buy a crappy house in a questionable neighborhood.

What more could an average girl with no real ambition ask for?

I only needed to decide if Los Angeles was the endgame. Wherever I chose to go, I had to make sure it was somewhere my parents would never step foot in.

I hated that Portland was the only city that came to mind. My parents did say it was much too liberal, but they weren’t why I thought of it.

I had no clue if Portland is where Bound still lived or if that house in Beverley Hills belonged to them. I only knew that it was home. Calvin, who they never mentioned, was the only one who hadn’t grown up there.

I knew there was no correct way to grieve, but my gut told me they didn’t mourn him—only his guitar skills.

Under Bound’s tutelage, mine have certainly grown. Houston hadn’t corrected my methods or complained about my mistakes since our show in Denver. I just assumed he’d been too angry to deign even ripping me apart like usual.

I should have been accustomed to complicated, but the Powerpuff Girls were tossing out everything I thought I knew of the meaning.

It was still too early for joggers and dog-walkers, so I walked for five minutes, passing a small playground and seeing no one until I came across an amazing bronze statue of a little girl perched on top of a giant mushroom surrounded by woodland creatures. It was Alice in Wonderland with the Mad Hatter looking on, the White Rabbit checking his pocket watch, and a dormouse eating something at her feet.

Digging out my phone, I snapped a selfie with the Mad Hatter and then the White Rabbit. I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk slipping and falling if I climbed the mushroom for Alice.

Sorry, Alice.

I walked for another ten minutes passing a boathouse before I stumbled upon a miniature castle next to a pond that wouldn’t open for a few hours. If I hadn’t been too early, I would have dipped inside, but it wouldn’t have been for the panoramic views.

I had less chance of being found if I were undercover.

Even though I’d left Houston, Loren, and Jericho sound asleep in their beds, I felt like a kid skipping school and avoiding all the places my parents or someone who knows them might show up. A few more hours and the park would fill up since it was summer, and parents were looking to keep their kids entertained until they wore themselves out.

Smiling as an idea formed, I took a selfie and smiled into the camera while biting the tip of my finger. I made sure not to show too much of the stone and brick castle in the background. It was dark, so my flash still came in handy. Once I was satisfied nothing else gave my location away, I opened the texting app. After unblocking Loren, I started a new thread, and typed a message. I already knew they liked group chats.

I decided to take a walk. Find me before sunrise, and I’ll grant five minutes of my undivided attention.

Attaching the photos I’d taken, including my selfies with the Mad Hatter and White Rabbit, I hit send and pocketed my phone. I figured I had about a twenty-minute head start.

“Stop playing, girl. You know I like it when you do that.”

Smiling, I was just getting to the good part of my dream when my eyes drifted open for some reason.

I jumped and screamed like a bitch at the sight of Houston standing over me with no expression whatsoever.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted at him. I’d even startled Rich awake. Weirded the hell out, I clutched the covers to my chest. I couldn’t tell if Houston had been about to stab me or rape me. Rich creeped us both out plenty whenever he had trouble sleeping. Thankfully, it’s been a while since he had an episode.

I’d been a sphincter’s hair from having a wet dream, and strangely, I was okay with that—as long as Braxton was playing a starring role.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Houston announced.

“So you decided to stand over me like you’re Michael fucking Myers?”

“Fuck you. I was coming to wake you up.” Looking like he could barely restrain himself, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Braxton’s gone.”

Glancing out the window with the curtains drawn since we were so high up, I saw that the sun wasn’t even up yet.

Sucking my teeth, I rolled onto my stomach. Braxton was like a frat boy, keeping late hours and sleeping until noon. No way she was awake yet. I don’t care how mad she was.