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“I can’tnotthink about her, Dane. You saw her. She’s alone. We can’t just let that go.” His eyes flick to Blaise, who’s still half-heartedly scrolling through his phone. “We can’t let her be out there, isolated, with no one to help.”

“You’re right. She’s isolated. But that doesn’t mean we just barge in and fix her life for her.” I’m trying to keep my voice calm, steady. I know where this is going, but I don’t want to push him too far. If I’m being honest, I’m just as stuck in my own head about her. “She’s clearly got her walls up. Maybe she just wants to be left alone.”

But she’s an omega. Omegas shouldn’t be alone. They don’twantto be alone. It can be…damaging.

Blaise snorts from the sofa, tossing his phone aside. “That’s rich coming from the guy who’s been staring at the door since we got here. You’re just as distracted as he is.”

I crack my knuckles, my discomfort bleeding into the action. “Shut it, Blaise.”

Blaise just shrugs, his grin wide and unrepentant. “I mean, we’re all in the same boat here, aren’t we? Can’t stop thinking about her, no matter how hard we try.”

“I don’t want to justthinkabout her,” Xar says, his jaw tightening. “I want todosomething. We can’t leave it like this.”

“And what exactly are we supposed to do?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve already tried the ‘I’m sorry for disturbing you’ excuse, and that went over well, didn’t it?”

Xar shifts, not liking the reminder. “Alright, maybe it didn’t work last time. But I can’t just let it go. We’ve got to make it right.”

I watch him carefully. “What exactly are you planning to do?”

“I’m going back,” he says, voice firm now. “I’ll apologise for the noise. For disturbing her.”

Blaise stifles a laugh. “You really think that’s going to work? Mate, the place is soundproofed. She’s not going to hear us from miles away, no matter how loud we play.”

He doesn’t point out that we’re barely even playing, let alone making enough noise to disturb someone.

Xar looks at him, his frustration growing. “Then I’ll figure something else out. I’ll?—”

He cuts himself off, clearly working through the options in his mind. “Alright, what if we find something of hers? Like a scarf, or a glove, or something small we can claim we’ve found on the drive, like an earring?”

Blaise raises an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about? We didn’t even get inside her place. How would we know what belongs to her?”

I don’t point out that I’m ninety percent sure she doesn’t have pierced ears. I tend to notice the little details, but her hair was down.

“I don’t know, maybe we say we found it on the porch? Or lying around near the driveway?” Xar’s voice is desperate, but Ican see the doubt creeping in. He knows it’s a long shot, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

I sigh and shake my head. “It’s a bad idea, Xar. It’s not going to work. She’s not stupid.”

Xar’s shoulders slump. “Fine. Then what?”

We sit there for a long moment, the silence thick. The clock ticks on, the house feeling too small, too quiet. I glance at Blaise, who’s now idly tapping his foot against the floor, and then back at Xar, who’s staring at the floor like he’s willing the solution to come to him.

And then, suddenly, it hits me.

“We could say we’re having issues with the house,” I suggest, my voice low but steady. I’m not sure why I’m allowing myself to get caught up in this madness, but at the same time I can’t seem to help myself, so I continue, “Tell her we’ve got plumbing problems or a broken heater. Maybe even say there are weird noises in the pipes or something. Ask if her place has had similar issues, get her talking about what’s going wrong with her house.”

I see Xar’s eyes light up, and I know I’ve hit on something that might work. “Yeah,” he says, sounding relieved. “It’s plausible. And it gives us an excuse to knock on her door without looking like complete idiots.”

Blaise looks at me, then back at Xar. “Fine, but if she shuts us down again, I’m out. I’m not running in circles with this.”

I nod, though I suspect he’s lying. “We don’t push her. We keep it simple. Just check in, make sure we don’t get on her nerves again.”

Xar stands up, taking a deep breath. “Alright, we’ll try it. But if this doesn’t work, I’m going to lose it.”

“Good luck with that,” Blaise mutters, pulling his coat on as he heads for the door. “Let’s go see if we can’t annoy her one more time.”

The drive back feels longer than it should. Maybe it’s because the rain has started again –if it ever stopped– a steady drizzle that blurs the landscape into streaks of grey and green. It’s quieter this time, the tension in the car thick and palpable. I can feel the unease in my chest, the restlessness gnawing at me again. This wasn’t the plan. We came here to work, to finish the album, to focus on our music. But instead, all I can think about is her.

The record label said the band is fractured, but what they really meant was that thepackis fractured. We’re not working well together anymore, and since we came off our last tour, there’s been a tension between us that I don’t know how to dissipate.