Page 261 of Second Sets Omnibus

“So not nice bumping into you,” I mutter under my breath, watching his every move. He stands at the back of the crowd with no expression lining his face as the guys continue their performance. He doesn’t sway. He doesn’t fucking move. He’s a goddamn statue. Tension lies in the backs of his beady little eyes, raising the tiny hairs all over my body.

“The fuck is Donavan Drake doing here?” Ode asks in alarm, guiding me to the bar by the elbow.

“Being a creep as usual,” I grumble, staring over at the place he stood and startling. “He’s gone,” I say with a shrug, blowing out a breath.

That was a close one. Shit. That’s the last person I ever wanted to come face to face with, especially in this condition. I’m liable to say whatever the hell is on my mind. Like, fuck off, Van. Eat a snake, Van. Or my favorite, drop dead, Van. In fact, I should race over there and say that to him. He distributed our damn sex tape like it was a movie. Fucker.

“I’m going to sue his ass,” I mutter under my breath.

“I haven’t seen that asshole since he left Central City for work. Wherever that was,” she says, shaking her head.

“In Europe, right? Veritas has been tracking his ass since my whole stalker fiasco started.”

Her brows furrow. The color slightly drains from her face at the thought of my stalker. Thank fuck, that dickbag is dead and gone. I no longer have to look over my shoulder, wondering if some sicko is taking pictures of my every move.

“Yeah, I think so for the first year or so. Not sure what he did after that, but he got a job with his company. I think he travels or something. Fuck, I don’t know. As long as he’s not around here,” she says with a shrug, handing me my bottle.

“Thanks,” I say, taking another swig of the burning tequila, drinking the memory of Van away.

He’s here doing his own thing. He can’t hurt me anymore. Not when I’m living for the future. Not the stupid past.

Damn the consequences. I’ll deal with them later. Naked. And freshly fucked. Because any man who writes a song clearly dedicated to me and their daughter deserves a little love between the sheets. A reward, if you will. And then, I’ll get a nice reward.

“It’s going to rain,”I whisper, staring out the dark window of our SUV, traveling down the road near Callum’s home.

It’s in the air. The smell of sweet rain floats through the breeze, infiltrating all my senses. My hair stands on end. My aching heart pounds rapidly against my ribs. All in tune with the weather changing at the drop of a hat. My eyes widen in awe as the wicked sky lights up, showing off the darkened clouds miles away, heading straight for us. There’s nothing that compares to a Midwest storm on the horizon.

Soon we’ll be soaked.

My head leans lazily on Callum’s shoulder with his hand clutched tightly in mine. Every so often, he gently squeezes my fingers with his. Three times. Over and over. Conveying a message unlike any other—he loves me.

There’s no denying the love we have for each other. All five of us. In some weird and twisted way, we care for and deeply love one another. Like we’re meant for each other. No matter whatwe went through in the past. No matter how long we were apart, basking in our hate for one another.

This was always meant to be.

Some would say, it’s way too quick. Way too soon to shout it from the rooftops. I’m so damn tired of living in the past and reliving the hurt I experienced. It changed me for the better. Helped me grow into the woman I am today. I’ll never forget the way their betrayal hurt. I’ll have my doubts. I’ll cry and question them until I’m blue in the face. As long as they’re there to ease the pain and constantly reassure me that we’ll be okay, then I’ll believe them.

But tonight, I want to live. Dance in the icy rain. Forget all my inhibitions for freedom. Freedom from my crippling thoughts of doubt. From the pain. From my stalker. From every little thing bogging me down.

Tonight, I want to fall into the arms of the men redeeming themselves for me. The ones who wrote that song. Who pulled me on stage, kissed the oxygen from my lungs, and told the world I was theirs.

I need this.

Rad’s fingers trace up and down my jean-clad leg from my other side, bringing me out of my swirling thoughts. Judging by the trembling of his fingers, he’s eager to lock me inside the house. How do I know? As soon as we left Dead End, he told me.

“I want to lock you in Callum’s house for a month straight to get reacquainted with every inch of your curves. My tongue will own every piece of flesh… inside and out. I’m serious, Pretty Girl! Don’t drunkenly giggle at me. Little Rad is going to punch a hole through my jeans if he doesn’t get a taste of his obsession,” he murmurs with a soft whine in my ear as we walk out into the night toward the SUV. The boys stand near the trunk, lifting their equipment in and securing it in place.

“Show me how much you missed me,” I murmur, kissing his cheek. I saunter off toward the others, who watch me with heated expressions. Even in a T-shirt and jeans, they look at me like I’m completely naked and spread out.

Once again, mother nature shows off, illuminating everything outside in a quick flash. Ten seconds later, thunder rumbles, vibrating the car as we pull into the driveway of Callum’s house in the middle of nowhere.

The dark trees swish in the wind, picking up speed ahead of the rain blowing in from the west. Rainy September days always mean the changing of the season is upon Illinois.

Thankfully, we’re heading home tomorrow evening. Home. What a strange sentiment. Our home is no longer in this town. Central City is just another city. Another stop along the way. No. Our home is nestled in East Point. Somewhere. They’ll still work on themselves in the band house for another five months. And I’ll be across the street with Ly. At some point, we’ll have to figure out living arrangements. I never intended anyone else but Lyric and I living in my home. It’ll burst at the seams with all six of us living there.

The future is unavoidable. Scary, even. Will things stay like this? With each of them looking at me like I’m that plate of nachos? Or will we fall into a weird pattern once the forced proximity implemented on us vanishes? Only time will tell where our adventure truly ends.

I take a deep breath.