“Maybe. Or maybe shoving aside what so truly is will slowly strangle it and, by the time the tour is over, you two won’t be interested in each other anymore. In which case, the real question is, are you willing to lose this thing by backing off? Is backing off what you truly want or are you asking because you want to pursue him, and you need me to reassure you?” Nora pulled out a sleeveless teal halter type blouse and tossed it on Harlow’s bed.

  “I don’t want to make a mistake with someone’s feelings.”

  “What about your feelings?”

  “Why are you answering my questions with questions?” Harlow demanded.

  “Because you know the answers already and you want me to validate you. But if I had a problem with this, you’d know it.” Nora dropped a pair of well-loved jeans next to the shirt. “Jeans will be fine.”

  And just like that, in her Nora way, she’d gotten Harlow to focus on herself and her choices without judgment. It was what she’d needed, naturally, and of course Nora had understood.

  “You’re going to be a great mom someday,” she told Nora.

  “I’ll settle for being a great friend right now.” Nora grinned. “Plenty of time for babies later. Still, it’ll take practice.” She waggled her brows at Harlow, who snickered.

  “Practice makes perfect, I’m told.”

  “Poor Brian,” Nora said. “Sometimes I want him so much I think I might just wring him dry.”

  “He appears to like it, so I don’t know that he’d consider himself poor Brian. I think he believes he’s lucky Brian.”

  “Aww. I really do love that guy.”

  “He deserves you.” Not many would, in Harlow’s opinion. Nora was a fantastic catch.

  “I think he does. I hope I deserve him. He’s the best.” Nora shrugged with a smile.

  Harlow had watched Nora and Brian grow up and into their partnership. They’d stumbled here and there, like anyone else did. But they seemed to share a bone deep commitment to putting in the effort to keep their relationship strong and healthy.

  It gave Harlow a visible reminder that cynicism aside, the thing she wanted so deeply was possible.

  “You two are sappy as fuck and I love it.” She hugged Nora to her side a moment.

  “I can’t believe you hung out with her for hours and didn’t invite me,” Miles grumbled at his sister after she’d informed him how she and Maddie had spent their morning.

  “I just brought you a smoothie and lunch, so you’d better find your gratitude.” Poppy managed the same level of hauteur as their mum when she got riled up. It worked on him too.

  “Thank you for bringing me food,” he told her.

  “Of course, I didn’t invite you. You were still asleep at seven thirty when this yoga class was.” She flipped him off before tossing herself into a chair. “You’re not a morning person, Miles.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that. It was a thing by that point that if they had to be anywhere before ten the others in the band would leave him be to avoid his crankiness for the first hour. Though he’d love to see Harlow in yoga pants, he didn’t really want to get up early and exercise to do that.

  “She’s not just yours,” Poppy said after a bit.

  He grunted as he began to eat.

  “I invited her to the after thing tonight,” Poppy told him as she looked through her calendar. “She’s very nice and she likes you. Maddie and I approve, but she’s our friend too. We warned her that you were bossy and that you’d be in her business.”

  “Why? Are you trying to chase her away?”

  She just stared at him, deadpan for long moments. “She’s an independent person and she takes that independence really seriously. It’s good for her to know up front. She’ll manage you I wager. A weaker person wouldn’t last a week with you. You’re not meant to be with someone who doesn’t want to walk at your side.”

  “What do you mean?” He knew, but he wanted her to say it. Needed her to.

  “Whatshername wasn’t your equal. She was never going to walk at your side. She wanted to warm herself in your celebrity glow, drain you of everything she could and if she destroyed stuff on the way out, so be it,” Poppy said of Sophie, his ex. Their whole group of friends generally refused to use her name after the breakup when she had set fire to his privacy on that way out his sister just mentioned.

  “Maybe I just didn’t take care of her enough,” he said.

  “Really? You think that? Because if you do, I’m going to punch your Adam’s apple.”

  “No,” he admitted. It had taken him the better part of a year to truly process all the things that’d gone down between them, but he was at the point where he knew she’d never been as into him as he was her. Her attraction to him was about his access and that had been easier to accept than the way he’d let himself wallow in bullshit behavior during their relationship.

  “I don’t want to talk about her. Back to Harlow. It just feels like I’ve known her forever. And I don’t mean in the way we have known one another since we were teens. I’m comfortable around her in the way I am with close friends and family. Not that I know as much about her as I do all you. But I feel like I can be myself. Like she doesn’t expect anything but that.”

  “So, be yourself and try not to be too bossy while you’re at it,” Poppy told him like it was obvious.

  He supposed it was. But what others thought of as bossy he considered protective. He liked taking care of people. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  The house wasn’t very far from the venue, but Miles had no intention of not sitting his ass down next to Harlow on the ride over.

  “I’m glad you three came along tonight. You’ll like Jeff and his wife Malorie.” Miles was still buzzing from their performance. Tired but in a satisfied sort of way. They’d swapped out some new material into the setlist and it had been a hit and had given the spotlight to each member of Earthquakes.

  Harlow had changed out of her stage gear, and he was a little sad because she’d been wearing a body skimming dress that came to her mid-thigh and had gone without shoes as she’d moved with such aggressive self-discipline and unhidden joy, he continued to catch memory flashes of how she’d looked even hours later.

  Conversation swirled all around them as he took her hand and she looked up at him briefly and went back to what she’d been talking about, leaving her fingers clasped with his.

  Silas looked over and one eyebrow rose briefly. He’d hear more about it when he and Silas were alone, Miles was sure.

  Ten minutes later they were being invited inside.

  “So you said Jeff and Malorie like you meant random people with those names and not actually Jeff Speck and Malorie Priya,” Harlow told him after introductions had been made and they’d gone into the back of the house where the sliders were open to the night beyond. There was a pool that had been artfully lit and a comfortable common area just beyond.

  “He’s just Jeff to me,” Miles said of his friend who currently dominated that part of country music that mingled with rock and roll. He sang rough edged songs about booze and sex and until Malorie had come along, he’d been plenty happy to live those songs out. But the equally powerful and successful photographer had changed Jeff’s life, though not his songs. He knew his strengths just like any other artist who wanted to continue to do what they loved.

  There was a huge amount of food and ice-cold beer to go with it. Music started up in the background as the ebb and flow of people began and he settled in to catch up with some old friends he didn’t see often enough.

  He couldn’t always sight Harlow, but he heard her laugh or caught the sound of her voice and that was enough. Until it wasn’t. Until he’d been off in a corner with Jeff and Silas and he’d just missed her enough to want to seek her out.

  Miles found her outside, sitting at the edge of the pool, jeans rolled up, feet in the water. Her back was propped against the wall of the hot tub and her gaze looked out over the valley below.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, not wanting break the late night quiet, the hum of the gathering inside was in the background.

  She turned slightly, smiling when they locked gazes. “Hey there. Come cool your toes. It’s a warm night.” Harlow patted the place next to her and he eagerly took her invitation, letting his hip brush hers as he rolled his pants up and joined her.

  “Doing okay? We’ll probably be leaving soon. I’m sure you’re tired.” He found himself thinking about her comfort frequently.

  She lifted a shoulder. “It’s nice out here. Smells good. I’m surrounded by people but also just steps away I can be by myself.”

  “I should have come to look for you sooner.”

  “I’ve only been alone for like five minutes. Nora was out here with Malorie. They just went inside before you came out here. Plus someone named Tim chatted me up.”

  Miles sent her a sidelong glance. “Chatted you up?”

  “He was nice. Flirty. Offered to show me around tomorrow.”

  “Are you messing with me?”

  She tipped her head back on a laugh that caressed his skin. “Are you surprised?”

  “No. You’re gorgeous and you smell good and people like being around you.”

  “That and you’ve been chatted up more than once that I’ve seen,” she teased.

  “Regardless, I know for a fact you didn’t see any chatting back.” It made him grumpy that anyone would hit on her when she was so obviously meant to be there with him.

  “That’s because you have very good taste, Miles.”

  He certainly did. After some painful lessons, but there she was, a reward for coming through it and out the other side. “And are you going sightseeing tomorrow?”

  “I told him I was interested in someone else. He still offered to take us on a hike if we wanted though. I thanked him but said we had other plans.”

  Oh. Well, that was a good thing.

  “Good idea. Tell me something else about yourself. You said you always wanted to make music. But how did you get from there to here?” Miles asked.

  “I started doing session work while I was still in high school. Lots of kids there had gigs in the entertainment industry. You went to an arts-based school too, right?”

  They’d shared that in common as well. “Yes. Plenty of kids, especially in my junior and senior years had outside gigs in local or even national theater programming. I was able to get credit when I went on the road with my dad. That was pretty sweet.”

  “Okay so you get that part. I began to make a career for myself. Build my professional reputation apart from being Richie Martin’s kid. I have my own talent,” she told him, sounding a little defensive.

  Maybe more than a little. It sounded very much like she was speaking from a place of painful experience.

  “No argument from me. I come from a whole fucking family of talented musicians and artists. I know what it feels like to need to prove you’re succeeding in your own right. And I know firsthand how talented you are. It’s why you’re on our tour.”

  He wanted to lay her down on the grass just beyond and kiss her under the stars. He wanted her in so many ways. It was so reckless but there it was. He wasn’t going to wait. If he were to admit it, he hadn’t really considered it. The only thing that would stop him from pursuing her at that point was her telling him to stop.

  He cocked his head and quirked up the corner of his mouth. God. His mouth. He was just so much. Dark brown hair, longer on top. Thick with caramel highlights in the sunshine, she’d learned the week before. His eyes were green like his father’s, but more hazel. They shone in the lights strung all around the trees and gave him the type of filter effect people on social media would scramble for.

  Harlow then tried to pass off a raw truth as a joke, “I might be a little sensitive on the subject of my success and ambition.” She flapped a hand. The one he’d been holding.

  And he…he took it back, drawing it to him and kissing her knuckles and then her wrist before letting it go. She held it there, stunned for moments. He watched, carefully, assessing. Making sure she was okay with the direction their interactions seemed to be taking.

  He took her hand back, again, this time tucking it between his.

  “It’s okay to be sensitive about something that’s important to you. I get it. I can tell you all day just how talented you are, but it’s more about here,” he tapped his chest, over his heart with his free hand, “than here.” He pointed to his brain. Tell me more about you,” he said quietly.

  Behind them, sounds of happy people filtered from the house. Laughter, singing, music. It was a pleasant, comfortable sound and an excellent part of an excellent night.

  Harlow cleared her throat. “After high school my dad had begun to be very serious about the woman he’d been seeing, Jenna. I stayed back in California when he toured by that point. Continued session work and then I sold a song. Little bits and pieces that helped me build some savings so I could move out when Jenna and my dad got married.”

  “Wow. How did you feel about that?” he asked.

  “It wasn’t like I was ten. I was twenty years old, and I needed to move out and start my life.” Her dad had been struck stupid with love and he deserved to have that time with Jenna.

  “Nora and Brian and I decided to rent together because we could cover the rent on a nice enough place near the studios Brian and I were working at. He was getting solid engineering gigs. Nora worked at a law firm. We jammed regularly, but it was informal garage practice type stuff. Brian’s aunt has a really swank recording studio and she let us use it when it was open. But she used to sneak in and listen to us. Before long, she started to give us tips. Taught us things. Helped us learn how to write our songs together. She encouraged us to book some gigs. And we did. It took a while and more than one garage or backyard party. But I didn’t want to tell my dad until we had a real show booked at an actual venue.”

  He smiled and nodded. “You wanted to know you did it on your talent and not who your dad was,” he said, telling her that he’d listened to what she’d said earlier.

  “Yeah, that.” She shrugged. “Not that I haven’t taken his help plenty. It’s a great thing to have, don’t get me wrong. But when I called to tell him we were playing a show and that we’d been rehearsing and writing our own music for months, he could have been hurt or annoyed I hadn’t said anything. Instead, he said, right on, Punky. He’s a good dad, you know? We’ve played way better places since, and a few worse, but that was the start. My dad passed our music on to Jeremy’s agency and we signed with them. We recorded an EP. It did well enough that we were able to keep going. We decided to move up to Seattle after I booked a bunch of studio work there and realized we could thrive. Music scene is great as you know. At first Brian and I worked plenty of studio jobs to pay the bills so we could make music and play gigs on every break we got. About a year ago we began to put together material for a full length release and when we were ready, my dad’s studio had been remodeled—I suspect for us to use—and he offered it along with his rehearsal space and pool house. It was a whole family affair, I shit you not. But what we ended up with was good. The best thing we’d ever done by far and we didn’t have to go into a thousand years’ debt to the label. Jeremy has worked with enough small bands trying to break that he’s got a lot of great ideas. The label already wants more from us, but Jeremy is using the tour as a way to get us a better deal. So thanks for that. And for listening to my very long and convoluted story about how I decided to start a band with my art school best friends.”

  “I like knowing things about you,” he said softly.

  “Even if I never get to the point in a straight line?”

  His smile made him even more attractive. Mainly because it was just for her.

  “I like how you meander. You got there eventually.”

  This was the oddest sexually charged conversation she’d ever had.

  “God damn, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, and she nearly gasped with the unexpected pleasure of his words. Words she couldn’t un-hear. Her reaction something she wasn’t willing to forego a repeat of. Harlow let herself want him fully, damn the consequences.

  “You should kiss me,” she said, all in. A real kiss. More than the sweet brush of lips he’d given her. She wanted heat. Craved his taste.

  He moved ever so slightly and on a sweet exhale, his mouth brushed against hers and lit her system up.

  Her lips opened as he moved to make another pass and his taste seemed to slide into her like smoke.

  He slid his hand over her bare shoulder and around the back of her neck, holding as he deepened the contact, his tongue stroking hers, making her think of other things he could do with his mouth.

  She had to squeeze her thighs together against the throb of her clit in time with her pulse as she turned enough to get her hands on his shoulders and then around his neck.

  He sucked her bottom lip, grazing it with his teeth as he did, sending a shiver through her. Her skin tingled, hyper aware of him. Attuned to his presence and awaiting his attention.

  The absolute mindless pleasure that washed over her as he kissed her like the world was going to end swamped her, left her nearly boneless in his arms.

  Inside the house someone called his name, and he tore his mouth away on a curse.

  Harlow blinked several times, coming back to herself and the realization that they were at a party full of people making out by the pool like teenagers.

  Miles had to clear his throat. “Out here,” he called out. To her he said, “We’ll continue this soon.” He stole another kiss and then stood as he had to shift a little to move his dick. His hard dick with a piercing. “You taste better than I imagined. And I’ve imagined a lot.”

  Glad it was dark enough to hide her blush, she took his offered hand and stood, heading back into the house.

  CHAPTER

  SEVEN

  “So you gonna share what happened between you and Miles last night or nah?” Nora asked as they ate their lunch by the hotel pool, lounging just out of the direct sunshine. “I think we can agree that I have demonstrated a great deal of self-control not making you tell me before now.”