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I actually squeak out loud before looping my arm through Nadia's to drag her away.

"Stupid hot guitarist and his stupid hot smirk," I mutter to myself.

"Where are we going?" Nadia asks.

Away from your guitarist before I accidentally climb him like a tree.

"There's a shot of vodka over there with my name on it. We need to go get it before someone else does." My logic is sound.

"This is a nightclub, Zoya. I'm pretty sure they aren't going to run out of vodka."

"They might. You never know." See? Logical. I peek over my shoulder to find Jareth staring at my ass. Another squeak spills from my lips without my permission. "Walk faster."

Nadia glances back at Jareth, a slow smile spreading across her face. "You like my guitarist."

"What? No!"

"Oh my gosh. You do!"

"Filthy lies." The problem with fair skin is that it tells the truth even when you don't. I feel my cheeks flaming, telling Nadia plainly that I'm a dirty, dirty liar.

"Great show!" a pretty blonde says as we pass.

"Thank you," my sister calls before refocusing on me. "You do like him."

"Do not," I mumble, avoiding her gaze. "He's annoying. And smirky. And he won't stop staring at me."

"He's a good guy. Very interesting."

I huff as we slide onto two barstools at the far edge of the bar, away from most of the crowd. The bartender immediately heads in our direction, wiping his hands on a towel.

"He's not interesting. He's Satan," I mutter, peeking over my shoulder again. Jareth is breaking down equipment on stage, moving with a cool confidence that's fascinating. He's completely ignoring the women at the side of the stage who are still trying to get his attention.

Because he thinks he's taking me home tonight? Maybe.

Wait. What does Nadia mean by interesting?

"Two shots of Stoli, please," she orders for us. "Better make hers a double."

"Got it," the bartender says and then spins to take care of it.

"Interesting, how?" I finally ask.

"He has a twin, for starters."

I turn wide eyes on my sister. There are two of them? "Seriously?"

"Identical."

"Holy crap." God really doesn't play fair, does he?

"And he owns a vineyard."

"He owns a vineyard?" I gape at my sister, trying to wrap my head around that. I guess the body makes sense now. Jesus. Jareth Grayson owns a freaking vineyard. My friends own student loans and bad decisions. "Your friends are not like my friends, Nadia."

She laughs quietly. "Hollywood is a whole different world."

"No kidding. I thought Nashville was glitz and glam when you were first starting out, but this place is…

" I shake my head, glancing around the nightclub with wide eyes.

It's posh as hell, with tasteful décor and luxurious seating.

Considering most of the bars back home stick to the tried-and-true western motif, this place really is a whole new world.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it. "

It's weird enough knowing that my sister is famous now. But her world is so different from the way we grew up. I guess maybe that's the point, isn't it? She needed something new and different to heal.

"Me either," she admits in a whisper. The sadness in her eyes squeezes my heart in a vise. She's thinking about Teo again. He was traded to the football team here in Los Angeles recently. For the first time in years, the two of them are in the same city again.

Nadia and I have carefully danced around the subject since my plane landed, but I know she's thinking about him. Half the damn songs she sang tonight were about him. Just like always.

"I sent videos to Mom and Dad," I murmur, dancing around it yet again. "They're proud of you."

"I miss them so much," she says.

"You know they'll fly out again soon. There's no way Dad is going to let you be out here by yourself for more than a few months at a time without showing up to check in."

Her expression softens into a smile, but it doesn't really reach her eyes.

"Are you happy here?" I slip my hand into hers as the question spills out. I can't help but ask, though. After everything she's been through trying to survive without Teo, I worry.

Now, they're in the same city again. Of course I worry. But talking about him has always been strictly off-limits. She doesn't want to hear anything about him, especially not from the people who know her best.

"Yeah, I'm happy here."

Her answer is too quick, too…fake.

"Truly happy, Nadia?" I press, eyes narrowed on her.

The truth is right there in her eyes. She still misses him.

The bartender appears before she has to answer, sliding our shots across the table. I pretend for her sake that he's distracted me, but I already have my answer. She isn't happy here. She's just faking it like always.

But we learned long ago that we can't force her to face it. We tried that. She ran off to Los Angeles. We tried it with him, too. He got in a bar fight that nearly ruined his career. Now, we do this. We dance around it and pretend they aren't both miserable.

Fake it til you make it, right?

I scoop my shot up, arching one brow at her.

She groans, reluctantly grabbing hers. "You aren't getting me drunk tonight, baby sister."

"We'll see about that," I smirk.

"I'm serious! I have to be at the studio early."

"Then you better drink your weight in water because you're about to drink it in vodka." I bat my lashes at her. "Now, drink."

She scowls at me, tipping the shot back. The grimace on her face is hysterical. She hates the taste of vodka. I quickly down mine, letting the alcohol burn its way down my throat. It's strong, but I like the flavor.

"Gah!" Nadia shudders, slamming her shot glass down on the bar. "I don't know how you and Dad drink this!"

"It's not that bad."

"It's awful."

"Don't let him hear you say that," I say, giggling. "You can insult Russia all you want in front of him, but never let him hear you insult their vodka."

Nadia chuckles because she knows I'm right. Dad may hate his country of birth on account of them trying to assassinate his father, but he's passionate about their vodka.

"How are he and Mom doing?"

"Fine." I roll my eyes, fighting a grin.

"He's driving her crazy like usual. I don't know what possessed him to retire.

He's terrible at it. He just follows her around, annoying her all day.

Your He-Man will do that for you, kisa .

Kisa , come, let me do that. She said if he doesn't find a hobby soon, she's going to strangle him. "

"Taking care of her is his hobby."

"No, that's his purpose," I correct, motioning for the bartender. "Chasing her around is his hobby."

Nadia giggles because she knows I'm right.

Our parents have always been ridiculously, blissfully in love.

Sometimes, I think I want the same thing…

and then I remember everything Nadia's been through and change my mind.

I don't want to end up nursing a broken heart for the rest of my life like my sister.

That's a lot more common than happily ever after these days.

And given my track record with questionable decisions?

Well, better to skip it altogether than risk it.

"Hey, ladies."

We glance over at the same time to find a man with bloodshot green eyes and a wrinkled suit standing way too close to Nadia for comfort. Two of his friends loiter behind him. Even from where I'm seated, I can smell the alcohol on them.

Great. This is just what we need.

"Heard you up on stage," he says, leering at my sister. "You've got pipes."

"Thanks," she mutters, tense and clearly not interested.

He's either too drunk or too oblivious to take the hint because he steps closer, crowding her on her stool.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Thank you, but no." She smiles politely and leans away from him. "I've already ordered one, and that's my limit."

"Ah, come on," he tries to cajole, leaning down over her. "You entertained us for the last hour. It's our turn to entertain you."

And that's about enough of that. Why can't some people ever take a hint?

"How?" I ask, scowling at him. "Are you going to dance for us? Stand on your head? Juggle?"

He flicks a dismissive look in my direction and then glances back at Nadia, his smirk growing as his gaze flicks up and down her body, lingering on her breasts. "Oh, I can think of a few ways."

His friends snicker.

Oh. Gross.

"Yeah, no thanks," she mutters, stiffening in outrage. "I'm not interested."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not. I wasn't aware I needed to explain myself to you." Her eyes narrow on him, her patience at an end. Nadia may be soft-hearted, but she isn't a pushover. "I know this might not register in your current state, but no is a complete sentence."

"So is watch your fucking mouth, you fat bitch," he snaps, immediately flipping from trying to be charming to insults and threats.

Typical. Guys like him never handle rejection well.

Nadia is gorgeous, successful, and talented…

three things he'll never be. He insults her to make himself feel better about the fact that he'll never be in her league.

"I suggest you get out of her face before we call her security team over," I lie, trying to stay calm. Nadia doesn't have security tonight, even though she should, but she has the band.

I glance toward the stage, and my heart sinks. They aren't up there anymore. Crap.

I slap a scowl on my face and forge ahead anyway. "The three of you look like you've been drinking all night. I doubt you'd last a single round."

"Call them over," one of his buddies says. "We'll see who can last."

Well…shit. Note to self: check for backup before talking shit next time.

"Yeah, bitch," the one looming over her says. "Call your little security guard over. See if he can protect you from what I'm going to do to you and your little friend when I get you alone."

Oh, hell no. No one is doing a damn thing to me or my sister. I'll kick his drunk ass myself before he touches either one of us.