But I shouldn’t kid myself here. Knox is in a rock band. This is just what he does. There are hundreds of girls just like me in every city around the world.

  Why would he care about me?

  Harmony Max. Fourth place.

  Knox wraps an arm around me, his lips never leaving mine as he turns me onto my back. I shift with him, our bodies entwining in a mess of heat and bedsheets. He drags a hand down my body, cupping my breast as I spread my knees.

  “Harmony,” he whispers.

  I shudder. “Hm?”

  He looks at me with those bright eyes and bites his lip. “I had a really good day.”

  “So did I,” I say. “Wish it didn’t have to end.”

  Knox doesn’t blink. “What if it doesn’t?”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  He touches his nose to mine. “Come with me tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “Come with me on tour.”

  “What?”

  He chuckles. “Tomorrow morning, when I get on my bus, I want you to come with me.”

  “Wh—”

  He covers my mouth. “Don’t say what again. Just say yes.”

  I shake off his hand. “Come with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I can’t do that!”

  He shrugs. “Why not?”

  “Because... it’s insane?”

  “That’s why it’s fun!”

  I would laugh if I could even breathe. “Knox, I can’t just leave.”

  “Why not? Do you have another pageant coming up?”

  “Well... no.”

  “Are you in school? Do you have an important test to study for?”

  “No.”

  “A doctor’s appointment?” he jokes.

  I laugh. “No, but...”

  “Harmony,” he says, silencing my thoughts, “do you want to come with me?”

  I say the first word that pops into my head. “Yes.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?”

  My smile slips a bit. “My mother would kill me.”

  Knox flashes a devious smile. “I’ll protect you. And she’ll get over it.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “I want you with me.”

  “You do?”

  Another kiss, this one hard and full on my lips. “I don’t know you, Harmony. You don’t know me. But I’m willing to do the insane to get to know you. I want to chase this as far as it goes.”

  I take a deep breath, feeling every word he says deep in my chest. “I do, too,” I say.

  “If it doesn’t work out, that’s fine. I’ll buy you the first ticket home.” He kisses my chin, my neck, my lips. “Come with me,” he whispers when I don’t respond. I’m still too stunned, too wrapped up in the no of it all to even consider a yes. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  I bite my lip in thought. Heat churns in my stomach, reaching out to envelop my core. Everything in me is a bundle of nerves, telling me to get up and leave. To go back to Mama. But I don’t. I don’t want to.

  I want to go with him.

  I want to take his hand and follow Knox into the unknown.

  I want to light fire to my world and watch as it burns.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Knox’s eyes widen for a second. “Yeah?”

  “Okay.” I nod. “I’ll go with you tomorrow.”

  He kisses me. So happy, so sure.

  And deep inside my chest, I feel a spark of rebellion I’ve never felt before.

  15

  KNOX

  Now

  That was a bad idea.

  I’ve been up most of the night and all I can think about is that kiss.

  Not the sold-out nationwide tour. Not the endless stream of fans dying to see us perform. Even The Electrics don’t crack my thoughts.

  No. It’s just that me, Harmony, and that damned kiss.

  The warmth of her lips. The intoxicating allure of her tongue. The way her fingertips dug into my sides. The near-silent gasps she made.

  And the deep rumble in my groin that urged me to do it again and again.

  I glare at the tent in my bedsheets. “No,” I say to my dick.

  No.

  No.

  No.

  Despite Addison’s approval, I can’t kiss Harmony like that again. I can control myself, for now. But if I do it again, I might not stop myself from doing it… well, again.

  No, next time, it’ll be closed-mouthed. Chaste. A peck on the cheek. Let the tabloids assume what they want. I’m the Rebel of Rock, right? I’ve never cared what they thought. No use starting now.

  My cock pulses beneath the sheets with a dull ache.

  “No,” I tell it again.

  I’m not touching it.

  I’m not touching it.

  I will not let myself relieve myself with this memory.

  I will not lie here and jerk off while thinking about that kiss.

  About the way her lips moved with mine, as if they never forgot how.

  About the way her body pressed against me, the heat of her overwhelming me like a cozy blanket on a chill autumn night.

  About the way I picked her up and threw her down on that table. Yeah. Yeah, and how I hiked up her skirt, shoved her panties aside, and took her.

  Fuck, her moans were so good. The way she bit her lip with each thrust, smothering my name on her tongue.

  Knox. Knox. Deeper.

  Please. More. More.

  Fuck, I’m gonna come.

  I’m coming.

  I’m coming.

  My tension snaps with a feral groan. Guilt and shame tickle my thoughts as my seed spills out onto my stroking fingers. I squeeze myself, the gland far too sensitive now to be pleasurable, but I keep going, the punishment too good not to savor.

  And when it’s over, only guilt and shame remain.

  “Fuck,” I scold myself.

  16

  HARMONY

  “Fuck,” I moan.

  I hate myself.

  The shaft vibrates deep within me. It’s a pale imitation of the real thing, but it’s good enough to get me off for now.

  No, not for now.

  For the whole damn tour.

  Yes. That is correct. For the next three months, this fake cock will be the only one I allow inside of me. No one else.

  Especially not— no. Don’t think of his name.

  My back arches, his name on the tip of my tongue, on the edges of my thoughts. My clit is raw and my wrist hurts, but I take the pain. I fuck myself slowly. Another orgasm lies just out of reach. My legs rest open beneath the sheets, the feel of them so soft against my burning skin as I meet my own thrusts. I keep my free hand up near my mouth, ready to silence a scream if I have to.

  Fuck, this feels good. No, bad.

  This is bad.

  I told myself I wouldn’t do this, but I have to release this tension if I plan on getting anything else done today. I already wasted most of my beauty sleep thinking about that kiss.

  Fuck, that kiss.

  Fuck that kiss to the moon and back.

  It was perfect, as Addison said. Deep and slow. Just enough tongue, but also not nearly enough.

  Just like always, Knox left me wanting more and I fucking despise him for it. Part of me wanted him to lift me up and slam me onto that table. I wanted him to hike up my skirt and drop to his knees and do that thing with his tongue that always drove me crazy.

  So close…

  Knox.

  I grab his hair. I pull him closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside of me. I bump and grind against his face as he sucks on my clit and moans my name into my pussy.

  Harmony. Harmony.

  You taste so good.

  Come on my face, baby.

  Yeah. Just like that, you dirty little⁠—

  I jerk my pillow out from under my head and smother myself with it as I come. The vibrator slips from my shaking hand and quivers against the bedsheets. I ignore it, waves of blissful sparks firing through my core, tingling my limbs as I ride the climax to its end.

  Knox.

  Knox.

  Knox…

  When it’s over, I lie still. I picture his face. His wild eyes. His handsome jawline. His devious, victorious smirk.

  “Fuck,” I say into the pillow.

  17

  KNOX

  Istuff that guilt and shame into the bottom of my bag and head downstairs before Jordan’s wake up call.

  It’s a quiet morning, perhaps the last quiet morning I’ll get before… whatever the hell is going to happen on this tour happens.

  I grab a coffee and claim an empty couch in the lobby to wait for the others.

  Within a minute of sitting down, Katrina walks over with her own coffee and suitcase. Looking coiffed and perfect, her golden hair elegantly rests in a braid along one shoulder.

  “Hey, brother,” she says as she takes the empty seat next to mine.

  I smile. “Hey, sister.”

  Katrina eyes me closely, looking far more alert than I feel, but she’s probably been up for hours already.

  It’s not uncommon for Katrina Benton to rise with the sun and practice her scales and her arpeggios — something that drove other members of our “household” insane back in the day, but I’ve always loved to listen to her play the piano. There’s no better alarm clock than that, honestly.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  “I’m okay,” I say.

  She raises a brow. “Are you?”

  I hold up my coffee. “Ask me again after this, huh?”

  She chuckles. “Weird night, huh?”

  “Oh, I’ve had weirder, but…” I shrug.

  “Yeah.” She shrugs, too.

  We sit for a moment, drinking our coffees and watching the morning staff walk back and forth behind the front desk. Marla’s employees. Strange to think. Very girl boss indeed.

  “Knox,” Katrina says, breaking the silence. “Are you sure about this?”

  I look at her. “Sure about what?”

  She doesn’t have to answer. Those big eyes do all the talking for her.

  I sigh. “You know why I’m doing this, don’t you?”

  “No,” she says, releasing a confused laugh. “I don’t, Knox. I have no idea why you’re doing this. All I can see is my big brother making a huge mistake all over again, and I can’t sit back and say nothing.”

  “It’s not real, Kat.”

  “Last night wasn’t real?” she asks doubtfully.

  “Of course not. And I’m doing this for us,” I say. “To keep us alive.”

  “Criminal Records is doing just fine.”

  “I don’t mean the band.”

  Katrina blinks once, her expression softening as she easily understands. She might not know exactly what Paul dipshit Monroe threatened me with, but she understands.

  She leans forward and places her hand on my knee. “Knox, I’m not a little kid anymore. You don’t have to take care of me.”

  I put my hand over hers. “You’re right. You’re not a little kid anymore, but you are my little sister. I’m never going to stop taking care of you, so stop asking.”

  Katrina smiles warmly, letting me get away with it. For now. I know someday the balance will inevitably shift between us. Someday she’ll be more independent than she already is. Someday there will be another man in her life, one worthy enough to stand by her side, and she won’t need me at all anymore.

  But that day is not today.

  And that guy is future Knox’s problem.

  One-by-one, the rest of us arrive. Addison and Jordan steal Katrina away for a little girl talk. Bronson shuffles down, beelining out the doors, no doubt falling right back into his bunk in the back of the bus. No Jonah yet, but there’s not a soul among us who’d dare rush him this morning.

  Outside, I pause, taking a minute to admire our tour bus. It’s the same bus we’ve taken with us for the last two tours. Black from front to back with our logo plastered on each side.

  For years, I dreamed of this, and here it is, and so much more.

  This is why I became a rock god.

  The fame. The fortune. All the billboards and groupies and sponsorships. Every little piece of it a single brick on the mountain to the top.

  But here’s the thing.

  Once you reach the top, there’s only one place you can go.

  “Hey, can we get another picture?”

  A trio of young women stand together outside the hotel doors, each one holding up their phones and grinning. I flash them a smile, recognizing them from the show last night. They drove out from Flagstaff, as I recall.

  “Sure,” I say, waving them over.

  I pose with them long enough for each of them to get a good photo.

  “Thanks again!” one of them says. “Where’s Harmony this morning?”

  I scoff, ignoring the subtle electric charge the name sparks in my groin. “Staying out of the trouble, hopefully.”

  They laugh and say goodbye, rushing off toward who knows where.

  When I look back at the bus, I see Jonah. He’s standing with Marla, his hands lightly cupping her cheeks as they whisper words meant only for each other. Both of them look tired, but happy. So very happy. So very much in love.

  A man and his muse.

  They make it look so easy.

  I subtly walk past them onto the bus. Mac greets me with a welcoming grunt as I pat him on the shoulder. “Good to see you, man,” I say.

  “Hey! You, too,” he says.

  Jordan looks up from her seat next to August at the small table along the right wall. She smiles at me as she makes a checkmark on her clipboard and takes a sip from her giant golden Botsford Plaza thermos. Based on the buzz in her busy eyes this morning, that thing is filled to the brim with something hot and caffeinated.

  “Just one more,” she mutters to herself with a peek out the window at Jonah.

  I head toward the back, passing Katrina, Addison, and Harvey on the left side and plopping onto the next open bench beyond them on the right side. The three of them chat with their phones out, Harvey showing Addison photos of home while she politely pretends to be interested in his Midwestern frat boy roots.

  I listen with passive interest myself, my attention effortlessly pulled through the window ahead of me toward my best friend outside as he says goodbye.

  After a few minutes, Jordan crosses the bus and slides the window open. “Jonah,” she says. “Sorry, Marla, but we need him.”

  Time to go.

  Jonah doesn’t react, his eyes closed, desperate to make their last kiss last for as long as possible. My chest tightens at the sight, pulsing with a need somewhere deep inside that hasn’t been touched in a long time.

  Marla touches his face. “Jonah, I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  He sighs, letting go. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  One more kiss and he breaks away. I sit back as he hops onto the bus with his head down.

  I know that he’d shut this whole tour down right now if someone gave him the choice to stay. Three months away from his bride right before his wedding? I can’t imagine. I don’t want to.

  “Mac,” Marla says through the open door from the sidewalk, “keep my fiancé safe, okay?”

  “You got it, Marla,” he replies.

  Jordan gives Jonah a loving pat on the back as he passes her, then goes back to talking about the day’s travels with Mac and August. He takes the bench across from me, his eyes on Marla through the window. His muse. His heart.

  The engine revs to life, and we begin our journey.

  Criminal Records is officially on tour.

  “Hey, Jo, you doing okay?” I ask him.

  Jonah looks at me, subtly swallowing hard. “Oh, I’ve been better,” he says as we roll away from the hotel. Away from home.

  “Woo-hoo! I love you, Las Ve-gaaaas!”

  Harmony’s bright pink monstrosity speeds past us on the cross street. She cries out from an open window on the side, waving and blowing kisses at people on the street, as she promised she would.

  “You doing okay, Knox?” Jonah asks me.

  “Oh,” I reply as Harmony howls again. “I’ve been better.”

  Boom boom.

  18

  HARMONY

  “Woo-hoo!”

  I wail out the window one more time before pulling my head back in for some air.

  Screaming out the window of a moving bus takes a lot more out of you than you’d think.

  “Well, you’re in a good mood this morning,” Chrissy says behind me.

  I slide the window closed before taking a seat at the table with her. “It’s not every day one gets the chance to woo-hoo out the window of a bus with their name on it,” I say.

  Chrissy takes a sip from her coffee. “Good point.”

  “Also, Knox told me not to do it, so…” I shrug. “Kinda had to.”

  She smiles, her eyes full of gossip. “Knox, huh? Does he have anything else to do with this perky mood?”

  “No,” I answer.

  “Nothing happened last night after I went to bed?” she asks pointedly.

  “Depends on how much Jordan told you about.”

  She chuckles. “More like Ira.”

  “Ira?” I raise a brow. “You know Ira?”

  “We have met before. Yes.”

  I lean forward, my eyes full of gossip, too. “And?”

  “And he’s very much taken now. With a beautiful daughter and newly adopted son. The rest is ancient history, but we’re friendly enough that he filled me in this morning at the coffee station.” She squares her shoulders with an air of authority. “An orgy, Harmony? Really?”

  I break, laughter filling my gut. “He’s such a drama queen.”

  “That he is. Don’t change the subject.”

  “We kissed,” I say after I shake it off. “On purpose, with witnesses, just to make sure we still could.”

  Chrissy leans forward. “And?”

  “And…” I pause, absently pinching my lips between two fingers. “It was a kiss. A good kiss. But not too good. You know? We don’t want them to be… too good. You know?”