It was a tale as old as time. Even the least attractive band member got hit on by a fan or audience member once; whether they did something about it was a different thing. There was something about musicians, even semi-popular ones, that made them more attractive to women. I understood that.

Only this time, it felt like a jab to the kidney to see a man I wasn’t dating, who wasn’t anything more than a friend to me, with someone in the bus.

I felt…

“The hell is wrong with you?” my twin asked with a scrunched-up nose as I walked up to them.

“My leg hurts from where I scraped it,” I quickly lied.

Eli blinked. “Dumbass.”

And he let it go for a little while.

While we ate, he kept looking at me, asking if I was fine—or in his exact words, “What’s up your ass?” I kept telling him my Achilles hurt, that I was cramping, and I wasn’t feeling well. Mason frowned the entire meal.

I couldn’t help but notice how Eli came to see me during the show that night, which meant he actually came to the stand instead of staying backstage or on the bus the entire time. He didn’t ask any more what was wrong, but I knew he could tell something was bothering me. The whole Sacha thing in the bus had left a hole in my chest. I was sad. Sad. It was pitiful.

I couldn’t even enjoy the show. I shoved my earplugs in and sat with my arms crossed every chance possible. Of course it was the night that the audience was super-chatty and people were mentioning Sacha’s name every five seconds because it was his hometown.

At some point, a fan tried to walk off with two CDs that had been sitting as display on the table, and that turned into a debacle with me confronting him, and the security guards having to get involved once Carter called them over. The guy called me a bitch before he got kicked out of the show. So, overall, things could have been going better. A lot better.

I didn’t even take a break that night except to go pee and change my pad because I didn’t want to deal with anyone.

I thought my night would be over the moment I finished packing up and helping Carter load the dolly.

But fate had other plans and wanted to turn that silver dagger in my gut one last time.

“We’re going to eat, Flabs,” Eliza told me as soon as I’d gotten on the bus.

I frowned because I was feeling that bitchy. “I’m not hungry.”

The look he shot me could have melted wax. “You aren’t hungry? Now I know something is wrong. You’re never not hungry.”

Leave it to Eli to actually pay attention every once in a while. I didn’t give him enough credit. My twin knew me. He was a lot smarter and kinder than his rusted, creaky heart gave him credit for. If there were anyone Eli would move Kilimanjaro for, it would be me.

Maybe. If I asked him on the right day at the right moment with a blue moon in the background.

If I lied to him completely and said that nothing was wrong, he would know. He always did and already had, which was why he hadn’t stopped asking. So I went with the next best thing: a partial lie. “I feel sick. That’s all.”

“Hmm.” He narrowed his eyes. “Too bad, you’re eating. Otherwise, I’m going to be stuck listening to you whine in a couple of hours about how you’re starving and that shit is annoying.” He glanced at me for another second before pulling me onto the seat next to him, throwing his heavy arm over my shoulders.

I didn’t even care that he was sweaty, so I put my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. Tuning out everyone getting on the bus, I felt it start moving, but I stayed in my spot, appreciating the rare moment in which my brother was both quiet and comforting at the same time. The next thing I knew, the bus was stopping again across the street from some diner. I got out with the rest of Ghost Orchid, the members of TCC following behind, though I wasn’t exactly keeping an eye.