“Is this the band you were telling me about earlier?” Nix asks.

I blink myself out of my thoughts. “Yeah. I think they call themselves Echo, and the trumpet player also plays keys. A buddy of mine told me I had to look them up. I figured I’d listen for myself when he said he was surprised they hadn’t made it bigger over the years.”

“Great concept. I really like the horns mixed in,” Nix comments.

“I need to hear a few more songs, but yeah, I agree.” It’s a memorable sound, and I’m glad I found the time to come listen. Soon the bartender returns with our drinks. I hand the shots around and let my fingers graze Ivy’s hand as I pass one to her. Her face remains stoic, but her body responds instantly. Her nipples harden and I can see them through her tight dress. Leaning over, I ask her, “Are you cold?” She smirks at me and in the most casual way she gives me the middle finger. I nearly drop my glass trying not to laugh. I’ve never seen her do that.

Leif raises his shot glass. “Here’s to everyone getting lucky tonight.”

I shake my head, knowing he’s out to get laid and hoping he stays sober enough to get it up. I order another round of shots adding beers as well and we all stand around shooting the shit. After a couple more drinks Leif turns toward a redheaded chick in a tight pink dress sitting at the bar and starts talking to her.

Garrett starts telling Ivy about the girl Nix has joining him. He seems oblivious to the tension between the two of us, but Nix has been homing in on it. “Everything okay with you and Ivy?” he mutters so she can’t hear.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“That’s cool, but if you want to, I’m here to listen.”

I nod and take a swig of my beer. The four us stand huddled together at the bar, talking, listening to the band, and having a few more drinks. Before I know it Nix is jetting off to the airport to pick up the girl he’s flying in. I glance over at Leif and see that he seems pretty happy. The redhead is sitting on his lap with her hands all over him—doesn’t look like he’ll be dancing tonight. The band takes a break and dance music is piped in. Ivy raises her eyes and laughs. “See, we are at a dance club,” she says.

I can’t help but laugh back. She excuses herself to use the restroom and after ten minutes when she hasn’t returned, I grow concerned and move around to look for her.

Garrett and I check out the place and end up near the railing overlooking the dance floor, where I spot her immediately. The sheen of her tan legs, the sparkle of her earrings, and the glimmer of her sandals—she seems to shine under the beaming crosses of light reflected from above. She’s dancing with some dick in a white tank top whose hands are all over her ass. Tattoos cover his arms and multiple piercings ornament his ears. He just looks like trouble. My breathing reaches an alarming rate, my heart pounds, and my brain tries to maintain its cool as songs change from one to the next. We stay glued to the same spot, just watching her.

When the guy she’s dancing with pushes her up against a wall and grinds into her, I lose all control.

Garrett puts a hand on my shoulder just as my foot perches on the rung of the railing. “Let her handle it, Xander. She’s pushing him away.”

I ignore him and hop the rail in front of me, jumping the four feet between levels and crossing the floor to reach her. The asshole still hasn’t let go of her, even though she clearly wants him to. He’s about my build, but I know I could take him in a heartbeat. I grip both of his shoulders and pull him back, yanking his hands off her body.

“What the fuck?” he yells.

“Don’t touch her like that,” I growl, seething.

He looks at me, a little surprised, and flashes a mouth full of brilliant white teeth my way. “You don’t know who I am, do you?” is all he says. Then he turns and shuffles through the crowd without a word. That was easy enough.

I look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nods but looks a little shaken.

“Come with me.” I take hold of her arm and step toward the stairs.

“Let go of me!” She tries to yank her arm away.

I flip around and lean close to whisper in her ear, “I will after I talk to you.” I slide back and my eyes narrow in on her.

“Fine,” she says, relenting. “But I could have handled him myself.”

“It didn’t look that way,” I mutter, again turning and leading her to the second floor, where I saw tables and chairs earlier. I indicate a chair with a dip of my chin and she sits. I do the same.

“I was just dancing with him. He owns the club, and besides, we were only talking.”

“I don’t care who he is. And it didn’t look like he was just talking. It looked more like he was trying to take you in the back room.”

“Even if he was, it’s my choice if I go. Not yours.”

I nod, because that’s all I can do. Fuck, I knew I couldn’t do this. I knew Ivy joining the band was something I wouldn’t be able to handle. I lean back in my chair and my gaze spears her, but words escape me. Fuck, I want her to choose me.

“What do you want from me?” she asks, with more pain in her voice than I’ve ever heard. I want to say you, but first it’s time to come clean.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Ivy, I want to explain everything to you. I want you to listen and really think about what I’m going to tell you.” I’m nervous as hell about telling her the truth, because if she doesn’t believe me it could undo the relationship we’ve built in the short time we’ve been together on tour. And if she does believe me but doesn’t care—well, that’s what scares the shit out of me the most.

She’s fidgeting. First clasping her hands together, then moving the candle around in the middle of the table. She blows it out, then looks at me. “Xander, I don’t need the dramatics and I really don’t need to talk about you and Tessa, or for that matter, you and Amy or any other ‘friends’ from that circle.” She air quotes the word friends and I know seeing Amy with me must have stung, but it wasn’t like that. It’s not like it carried on from high school to now. We met back up years after high school, and it was more of a convenience than anything else for the both of us.

I take her chin in my hand, and even after all the alcohol her eyes are crystal clear and piercing. I take a deep breath and go for it. “That’s just it. It wasn’t what you thought. That night we were supposed to meet at my grandparents’ . . .” The music suddenly stops and the lights turn on, cutting off my words. There’s a commotion from below and I stand up and look downstairs to see what’s going on.

“Stay here!” I tell Ivy.

Her eyes flip to mine. “What’s the matter?”

“Just stay here. Leif must have pissed off the wrong person.”

The stairs are a few feet away and I take them two at a time. When I reach the bottom, three brutish dudes, each weighing at least two hundred seventy pounds, approach me and clutch my arms, dragging me into the back storage room.

“What the fuck?” I yell.

They stop just inside the door, and I look around to see where I am. The room is lined with boxes, some tossed, some stacked, some filled with empty liquor bottles—it’s a fucking mess.

The brute with a studded black leather belt cinching his jeans stands in front of me and smiles. He’s missing a tooth and another one is capped in gold.

“What the fuck?” I yell again, trying to break away, but I can’t.

“You need to learn some manners,” he hisses.

I swallow hard and take small breaths as the two of them hold me and Missing Tooth swings at me. His fists are like sledgehammers as they hit me. My face. My chest. My stomach—fuck, that hurt.

“Leave your hands off a guy when he’s making his move on a chick. Got it?”

“Who are you?” I ask, just fucking curious as to why an owner feels the need to sic his bulldogs on patrons of his bar.

“The question is who do you think you are?” he grunts.

I don’t answer but instead spit on the ground. Probably not the best idea. The bald guy punches me one more time in the gut. With a murky laugh, he says, “Get him out of here” to the guys holding me.

It happens in unison. They both tug my arms and drag me back into the bar. Before they drop their hold, the asshole with the lip piercing says, “You heard him. Get the fuck out of here and don’t ever come back.”

My eyes swivel around, looking for Ivy, and I make a move to head back up the stairs. I’ve decided to keep my mouth shut not because I’m worried about what they might do to me but because I need to find Ivy.

“I said get out,” one of them growls as the other moves to stand next to him.

“One on one, dude—just you and me,” I hiss back.

“I don’t think so. The owner wants you out and I hope you got his message. Oh and he already removed that hot piece of ass himself before he ran into your posse.”

I try not to let him see me flinch. He motions to the bar, where Leif is getting the shit kicked out of him by some other dirtbag who probably weighs twice as much as him. People near the bar are scurrying out of his way.

I hear the dirtbag scream, “Tell your friend she might want to think twice before being a cock tease again.”

Breathe, I tell myself. I need to find Ivy, and the only way to do that is to stay calm and get the fuck out of here.

I put my hands up in surrender, though it kills me not to kick the shit out of these guys. “I’m leaving. Call your friend off mine and we’ll get out of here.”

The one with the dark hair that flops in his eyes smiles, and I want to rip his teeth out of his mouth. He whistles and the dirtbag looks up. He slices his finger across his neck and eyes me, pushing me to the door. I turn and just as I approach Leif, the dirtbag shoves him at me. “Don’t forget this piece of shit.”