“Seriously?” he spat. “I’ve busted nuts that lasted longer than my feelings for you. It was a crush, Rich, not a confession of love. I didn’t want you to marry Emily because you deserved better, and I didn’t mean me. You know she tried to fuck Houston a week after you were married, right? He slapped the shit out of her and then told her to tell you why he did it.”

I gaped at him in surprise. Sadly, it wasn’t even because Emily tried to fuck my best friend. It was because I was just now hearing about it. “She never told me that.”

“Of course, she didn’t.”

“Why didn’t Houston?” I gripped him tighter when a thought occurred to me and brought him closer. I didn’t recognize the harshness in my voice when I spoke. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t like repeating myself,” he told me blandly. “I warned you what she was.”

“If you had told me what she tried to do, you wouldn’t have needed to convince Calvin and Emily to sleep together. You wouldn’t have needed to ruin my marriage to get what you wanted.”

Loren sniffed. It was obvious he felt no remorse even after all this time. “I didn’t have to convince them of anything, Jericho. It was going to happen whether I left them alone together or not.”

“Fuck you.”

Loren pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes as my grip loosened again. I didn’t like how weak he made me. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember how it was, Rich. I do the fucking, not you.”

“Why did you?” I finally asked.

That night had taken a turn neither of us intended, but we never felt the need to do it again. Our resentment for one another wouldn’t allow for attraction. Obviously, something had changed since I felt my dick getting harder with each word he spoke.

Loren must not have felt the same since he abruptly stood upright and pushed away. “Why not?” he threw at me.

It was all he said before he disappeared inside the suite.

I lingered in the hall, just staring at the floor, my gaze unseeing and my mind blank, before pushing away from the wall and heading inside the suite. I didn’t realize my intention or that I was looking for Loren until I found him.

He was in one of the three bedrooms he’d claimed, pulling his polo over his head. Our bags still hadn’t been brought up yet, and he was too high-maintenance to use anything other than his own shit, so I knew I had time.

“I forgave you,” I snapped at him. “Why can’t you forgive me?”

“Because I did you a fucking favor and because you said it yourself. It’s all or nothing with Brax.” Shirtless, Loren sat on the edge of the king-bed in his jeans and looked at me. “Do you know how it feels to know that I can never make Braxton truly happy without you? Do you know how it feels knowing I can never be truly happy without you? Yeah, you do,” he said before I could answer. “But you were going to leave anyway, so fuck you.”

“He wasn’t going anywhere,” Houston announced after barging inside the room. “A judge was already reviewing his lawyer’s request to grant the divorce before Braxton found those papers. Rich had already made his choice. He chose our girl. He chose us. And he didn’t do it under duress like you or Braxton think. I’d never say this to her because she doesn’t know his past, but you do. Quit whining like you haven’t already forgiven him. Stop pretending you don’t know why he was conflicted. If that was his kid, he wanted him to have two parents. He was willing to walk through hell so that his child wouldn’t walk through life, wondering why he wasn’t enough. Emily was never a fucking factor. I don’t have to tell you this, though, because you already know. Now kiss and make up so we can focus on what matters—winning our girl back. Again.”

Loren stared at Houston, mulling over his words but giving nothing else away before his gaze shot over to me. He kept his expression impassive until he grew bored of watching me sweat and stood.

I forced myself not to start round two of our fight when he calmly disappeared inside the bathroom without a word or indication that we’d gotten through to him.

It was still unclear whether Loren actually forgave me since he was the kind who reveled in doing the opposite of what he was told. He wasn’t shoulder-checking me anymore whenever we were in the same room or glaring at me like my every breath insulted him, so there was that.

The following night, we slipped into Braxton’s suite using the extra key card Dani had procured for us without our girl’s knowledge. We found them inside the dressing room the size of a large bedroom, “So What” by P!nk on blast. They were posing together in front of the tall, three-paneled mirror and were too busy shifting their bodies to find the right angle to notice they were no longer alone.

“Which one of you is the wannabe actor again?” Loren inquired. The three of them screamed and turned around once he made our presence known. “You’d be perfect for the role of ‘girl who dies in the first five minutes.’”

“The correct word you’re looking for is aspiring,” Griffin informed him.

“Oh, I guess that means I’m talking to your girlfriend then?”

It was obvious Loren had called them out when Griffin and Maeko’s eyes nervously darted to Braxton, who unsurprisingly looked unsurprised.

“Is there a reason why you’re in our suite?” Braxton asked with a sigh. She didn’t bother to acknowledge what Loren had just told her.

“Your suite, babe. We didn’t invite them.”

Crossing her arms, Braxton shot back, “I did.”

Loren gave her a subtle smile before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip while he gazed at her lustfully. “Doubt that.”

She wanted to be alone with us too. If we needed to scheme so she could pretend that she had no choice, we were happy to oblige her.

For now.

Eventually, Braxton and her friends would have to come to terms with the fact that we weren’t going to let her go.

“Ready?” Houston asked her when her silence became a little too telling. We had the green light we’d been waiting for. Nothing more needed to be said. I just barely resisted smiling smugly at her friends.

“Yes,” Braxton answered before slowly walking toward us.

I could feel her gaze on me as I admired her long hair pinned up in a ponytail with a few strands framing her face and neck. I didn’t appreciate the white, satin slip dress that looked dangerously like lingerie so much. She wore it with a black leather jacket and her combat boots, but she was testing my fucking patience when I once again questioned if she was even wearing panties. I didn’t like anyone seeing what was mine unless his name was Houston Morrow or Loren James.

Our show was tonight, and then it was off to Hamburg, Cologne, Mannheim, and Munich. No fucking clue if that was the actual order.

When Braxton tried to pass me, I grabbed her hand. She stopped.

“Panties?” I asked when her gaze met mine.

She pulled her hand away with a smile that was soft but devious. “Is that your concern anymore?”

“It never stopped.” I held her gaze so she’d know I was completely serious. “Panties?”

God help her if she made me ask again.

I watched her roll her eyes as she looked away. “Yes, Jericho. Can we go now?”

I don’t know what came over me. I pulled her into me, wrapped my hand around her nape, and…I ruined the black lipstick painting her lips.

She let me.

For a while.

And then she remembered the right was no longer mine.

Braxton pulled away, and I immediately began to relive that kiss. I didn’t know when I’d be able to steal another. It had been too long since I felt her lips. It felt like I’d been trapped inside a drought. With one kiss, she’d brought me back from the brink of death. At least, that was how it seemed.

We made it to the stadium.

We made it through soundcheck.

We made it onto the stage, and I was still thinking about that kiss.

Braxton’s gaze had traveled to mine more than once during the show. She was looking at me now, black lipstick restored, and her gaze wondering what if.

What if I kissed her again?

What if she forgave me?

What if I meant every one of the words she still wouldn’t allow me to say?

I do, baby. I do.

I know you love me too.

After the show, everyone was wired, so Loren suggested we do something we hadn’t done in a while. Celebrate for no fucking reason at all. He made a call, and it was done. The six of us hopped in the black Suburban and drove for thirty minutes.

The club Loren brought us to had one of the strictest door policies ever and was…weirdly obsessed with wearing black? I eyed Braxton’s white dress, and so did the bouncer after we bypassed the long line. Either Loren had the pull, or even the formidable guard with tattoos and hella piercings could spot a rebel masquerading as an angel.