Luke drove the truck out into traffic and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “We had a gig last night.” He turned the wheel, heading through an intersection. “And can I ask what you were arrested for?”

“I wasn’t. I was taken in. Elijah was arrested. They let me go.”

His lips pressed together in a flat line.

I could feel his disapproval and flushed again. It’d been so long since I’d been alone with Luke. I’d forgotten how powerful his presence was. Every sensation I had was on overdrive. I felt assaulted on all ends, from head to toe. My body remained heated, and my throat felt parched, like I was in a damn desert. His voice was soft, deep, disapproving, and seductive all at once. I shifted in my seat, trying to get more comfortable, but the smell of pine, sweat, and cigarette smoke filled the cab. I hated cigarettes. I hated smoking, and I knew Luke didn’t smoke. He was just around it, but damn, when it was mixed with his own smell, it was intoxicating.

What was I doing? Even though I hadn’t said the words to Elijah, I had already broken up with him in my heart, and the first guy to pick me up was turning me on? Literally?

Stop it, Bri. I cursed at myself.

Before I realized it, I found myself saying, “It’s over with him.”

Luke didn’t say anything; he only glanced at me again.

As he turned into Rowdy’s parking lot and parked, he turned the engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition, but he didn’t move to get out. I looked back at him. So much had changed. Too much had changed. That thought kept repeating, over and over again in my head.

I bit my lip, and his eyes turned away. He rested a hand on the wheel and asked, his voice rough, “What do you want me to say?”

“What do you mean?”

“To Bray.”

“I thought you said he was with a girl.”

“He is.” He turned back, and just like that, as soon as our eyes met again, I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach with the look he’d given me. The kind of punch—the kind that’s so shocking—that robs you of all your breath, and for a moment, you can’t think or move. That was how I felt as he kept going, “I’m sure they’re done by now, but he’s going to ask why you’re here and why I brought you. Do you want me to keep quiet?”

“Elijah and I are done. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Except not listen to everyone. “It’s going to come out eventually.” A different thought came to mind. “Is Emerson in there?”

Luke chuckled, and the smooth sound of it washed over me, acting like a caress. “You mean our bass guitarist? The guy who’s always down for partying? Your cousin?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, the cousin that hates me.”

“Yeah, he’s in there, too.”

Well, this was going to be fun. “Okay, let’s just get this over with.” I opened my door and got out. Luke did the same on his side, and we headed across the parking lot together. As we entered the bar, I heard my cousin yell out over the microphone, “All hail our lead singer, Luke Skeeet!”

A couple of girls giggled.

Then I heard. “What the hell?”

Coming from outside, I was blinded for a moment by the rising sun into the dark bar. Expecting them to have moved all the equipment down into the basement, I was surprised to see everything was still on the stage. Then I saw my cousin. He’d been sitting behind the drum set, but he was standing now, glaring at me.

“What are you doing with her?”

I flicked him off. Different day. Same routine.

“Fuck you, Bri.”

The other middle finger went up, and I forced a fake smile. Since I started dating his best friend, Elijah, Emerson turned from loving me like family to hating me like we were blood enemies. It was a switch that happened over night, and after three years of his attitude, I stopped wondering what I’d done and just went with it. We were hostile, at best, but sometimes it got worse. I waited, wondering if this was going to be another night that would be another ‘worse’ situation. I was prepared and ready to fight.

Luke ignored him and glanced around. “Where’s Braden?”

Emerson was a few inches shorter than Luke. Whereas Luke was six feet, broad shoulders, and lean with a trim waist, Emerson had a stout build. He was solid and muscular. The other difference was that Luke had a mop of brown hair, usually brushed aside and ruffled to look messy, but it worked for him. He was gorgeous with chiseled cheekbones and a face that belonged in magazines. My cousin had stopped trying to grow his hair out. Instead, he cut it all off and maintained a buzz cut, almost bald. His cheekbones were set too close to his eyes, his mouth was small and usually in a scowl, at least around me, and tattoos adorned his neck and body.

Grudgingly, Emerson answered, his glare moving away from me, “He headed home. Why?” After tossing the sticks onto the floor, which had me wincing, he jumped off the stage. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he came over closer, his beady eyes fixed firmly on me. “What are you doing here, Bri?”

I didn’t look at him, but I felt Luke glancing sideways at me.

Here we go. “SWAT came in this morning.”

Emerson narrowed his eyes.

I added, “Elijah was arrested. I was taken in, too.” My lips were suddenly dry. “A girl overdosed at the rave last night. They’re trying to pin it on him.”

A deep growl came from the back of his throat. “Tell me you called someone to bail him out.”

I didn’t, but I didn’t tell him that.

Emerson took my silence the right way, and another growl burst from him. “Are you kidding me, Bri? What kind of girlfriend are you? At least call his—”

“His what?” I cut him off. “His mom’s probably passed out in her own vomit, and you know he’s got no one else that he trusts. His roommate won’t leave his basement, and I refuse to call any of his drug people. I don’t even know who they are.”

He clipped his head from side to side. “You’re unbelievable.” He looked at Luke. “I gotta bail him out. We have another gig tonight?”

Luke nodded, watching me the entire time. “Yeah.”

“Do we need to practice beforehand?”

“Yeah, I want to practice that new song.”

“Fine. I’ll be here at eight.”