I’m Harmony Max.

  Fourth place.

  “Trust me,” he says, bringing his hands to my cheeks. He kisses me, prompting a wave of swooning screams, which he ignores as he stares into my eyes. “Show them who you really are.”

  “But I’m…”

  Nothing.

  I’m nothing.

  I tremble with fear. Years of voices telling me so echo in my mind.

  The voice of my mother, who wanted nothing more than to live vicariously through me until she cast me out to live her own fairy-tale life.

  The voice of Paul Monroe, who saw me as nothing more than a product to sell to the masses.

  The voice of every judge who said nothing I did was good enough.

  But it all fades away as I look into Knox’s eyes. Suddenly, I’m nineteen years old again. I’m at a table in a Botsford Plaza bar in San Francisco, sitting across from a rock god.

  He’s holding up a notebook with a single word scribbled across a blank page.

  NOTHING.

  “You did nothing wrong,” he said.

  “Sing, Harmony,” he says now. “This is your chance.”

  Since that night, Knox has been my biggest fan. Sure, we’ve had issues. Hell, we still do. But he’s the only one who’s never tried to change who I really am.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Knox kisses me one more time, then lets me go. He steps back and disappears into the wings, giving me the stage.

  I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders as I walk slowly toward his piano. The whole time, I’m aware of the audience, their claps and whispers, but they sound so far away as I sit down. I adjust the microphone stand, placing it just where it needs to be. I hover my fingers above the keys, finding middle C, trusting that the song is still carved into my muscle memory.

  At least, I hope it is.

  “Hello,” I say, shrinking back from the mic as the word echoes into thousands of attentive ears. “I’m Harmony and, uh…” The crowd breaks into applause again. I laugh. “I didn’t know he was going to make me do this tonight, so… I’m sorry if it’s not perfect.”

  They laugh warmly, offering me cheers of encouragement. I feel them deep inside, but it doesn’t affect my pounding heart. I take a breath. I look behind me into the wings, finding Knox smiling in the dark.

  “This song is called Wildfire.”

  My fingers tremble on the keys. I flex them one more time before setting them in place and…

  I play.

  Key after key, I play.

  My skin tingles, the heat of the spotlights warm above me. I shudder from head-to-toe, the thrill of the stage dancing through every nerve. It’s like taking the stage with Harvey, but it’s different, too. I’m not playing someone else’s song.

  This song is mine.

  And I sing it for him.

  “You’re wildfire, burning through my soul.

  I’m drawn to you, so out of control.”

  My voice cracks, but I warm up after the first verse. Music flows through me, my brow coated with sweat, my pulse syncing with the rhythm of my song. I belt my heart out, tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. I may never get the chance to do this again. If so, at least I can say I poured my soul into it.

  Then, as quickly as it began, it ends.

  The final word falls from my lips. My voice echoes through the auditorium as I play the last notes on the piano. In the silence, in the sudden calm, I hear the distant echoes of my mother and Paul and pageant judges.

  Then, I hear nothing but applause.

  It’s deafening. Thousands upon thousands cry out for… me.

  For Wildfire.

  I look for Knox, finding him in the same place, his eyes full of that mix of love and cockiness I adore so much. He steps forward as I rise off the bench, rushing toward me with open arms. I leap into them and kiss him again.

  The stage rumbles beneath the sound of screaming Criminal Records fans. Whatever they felt about Knox and Harmony an hour ago clearly doesn’t matter anymore. Now, they want more.

  And more they’ll get.

  “Thank you,” I say, my voice barely audible between us. “Thank you, thank you.”

  But Knox hears me. “It was all you,” he says. “Always you.”

  A drum beat pounds from upstage, Bronson playing Down Down Baby’s opening lick.

  The audience cheers.

  I kiss Knox again and release him. The show goes on.

  Always.

  “I love you,” I say as I step back toward the wings. “I’ll see you after the show.”

  Knox grins, devious and triumphant, as the others rush to their places, Jonah stopping to hand off Knox’s guitar.

  I return to Chrissy in the wings, and we watch the show.

  And, oh, what a show it is.

  62

  KNOX

  My phone rings somewhere across the room.

  “Knox,” Harmony says, her voice breathy and wild.

  “Ignore it,” I say, grunting, her crossed ankles brushing against my lower back as I thrust.

  I kiss her hard, smothering the laughter on her lips, hurtling us even further toward climax.

  “It’s probably Jordan,” she says, playfully dragging her nails down my back before gasping a deep moan.

  Fuck. I moan, too. So fucking tight. So goddamn wet. Our sounds blend, our tongues touch, our bodies create sweet, sweet music that echoes between us.

  My phone rings again, lightly buzzing on the bedside table.

  Harmony laughs again. She cups my face, forcing me to stop kissing her. “You know she’ll just knock on the door next.”

  “Let her.” I snatch Harmony’s wrists and pin them down above her head. “I’m not stopping.”

  Harmony quivers, her whole body trembling. I feel her squeeze my cock from the inside, her pussy throbbing with pleasure. She’s close. Real close…

  “Harmony,” I say, locking her eyes as I grind. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

  She smiles, her reply silenced by another moan.

  “I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much.”

  “Knox.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut up.”

  I laugh and kiss her again. Keeping her pinned down, I focus below the belt, resting my head on her shoulder as I keep a steady rhythm, listening to her gasp in my ear.

  “Knox—” Harmony rolls her hips, meeting mine. “I’m⁠—”

  “Me, too⁠—”

  My phone rings again.

  We ignore it, far too deep into each other to notice or care. Her thighs tighten around me, everything throbbing and twitching from release. I let go her hands, letting her touch me, enjoying the hard scratch of her nails on my arms while I come inside.

  “Knox,” she whispers, a delicious sound. “I love you, too.”

  I chuckle, too damn happy for words.

  Harmony spins, her legs still locked around me. I roll with her on my bed, admiring the view of her perfect body as she straddles my waist. She reaches toward the bedside table and grabs my phone.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  She taps away with her thumbs. “Letting Jordan know we’re up,” she says.

  “Ah. Fine.”

  Harmony tosses the phone away and leans forward to kiss me. I cup her face. I run my fingers through her hair and down her body, feeling her breasts and thighs.

  She moves, dancing on the tip of my tired cock.

  “No,” I say, grinning.

  “No?” she asks, kissing me back.

  “You told her we were up.”

  “I said we were up,” Harmony says, reaching down to guide me back inside. “I never said we’d be on time.”

  As soon as I feel her dripping wetness glide on my shaft, I’m hard as a rock again. “Fuck,” I say, my fingers digging into her sides.

  “Good boy,” Harmony coos, feeling it as she rolls her hips.

  “How do you even do that?” I ask, completely serious.

  She’s the only woman in the world who can make me this hard so quickly.

  But Harmony just giggles, even more music to my ears.

  I close my eyes, listening to it as she rides me. Her body flows over mine like a hand gently strumming a guitar, and I hear it. Individual notes link with others and before I know it, I hear a song I’ve never heard before.

  I jolt my eyes open, immediately in search of a pen or my phone so I can write it down before I forget. As I do, I notice Harmony has stopped, my cock still buried inside. She’s already holding my phone, her thumbs purposefully tapping the screen.

  “Um, hello?” I say.

  “Hm?” She looks down at me. “What?”

  “You’re texting? Now?”

  “Oh, no. Sorry. I just… really needed to send something to myself real quick.”

  “Send what? A nude of me? Because I didn’t consent to that.”

  She chuckles. “It’s not a nude.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Nothing,” she says as she tosses the phone back onto the bed.

  “No, what was it?” I ask, happily recognizing her expression.

  “Nothing.”

  I sit up, wrapping my arms around her as I go, feeling her warm body still entwined with mine. “Harmony.”

  “What?”

  I kiss her softly. “Are you hearing music?”

  She hesitates, but not for very long. “Yes,” she answers.

  “When did it start?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “In San Francisco,” she says. “I think. I’m not… really sure. But I heard it then. That morning after we…”

  I kiss her, unable to hold back as happiness floods my chest all over again.

  I’m her muse.

  And she’s mine.

  I hold her closer, a silent promise to choose her.

  Always.

  “Come with me,” I say.

  Harmony chuckles, bracing herself to move on me again. “Oh, just give me another minute. I’m almost there again.”

  “No, I mean today,” I say, keeping her close. “Come with me on tour.”

  She slows to a stop, her sharp eyes suddenly soft. “Are you sure?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” she asks, the word playful.

  “Because I’m hearing music, too,” I say, brushing my lips against hers. “And I need to hear what our music sounds like.”

  She smiles. “So do I.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” She kisses me. “Also…” Another deep kiss as she puts her hands on my chest and guides me down to my back. “We have a glam rock douchebag to destroy, right?”

  I grin as I pull her lips to mine again. “Fuck, yes,” I say.

  Harmony snatches my wrists and pins them above my head. “Now,” she says, her voice dripping with seduction. “Lie back and let me do my thing.”

  I obey, resting my arms behind my head. A very happy man.

  “Hey, Knox.”

  “Hm?”

  “This Feels Like Love.”

  I open my eyes, my smile digging deeper as I look her over again. “This feels like love to me, too,” I say.

  “No, my song,” Harmony says. “That’s what it’s called. This Feels Like Love.”

  I smile. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

  63

  KNOX

  Three Months Later

  The Night Before Jonah’s Wedding

  Why did I agree to this?

  Not the Best Man part. No, that’s been a blast. Tonight has been a fucking blast. A bachelor party in Las Vegas with a bunch of billionaires is exactly as fun as it sounds.

  No, I’m talking about the part where I agreed to not see my girlfriend again until the wedding day.

  Jonah and Marla haven’t seen each other in the flesh since the start of the tour. Which is incredible. Three months on the road with no sex? I’d pass, honestly. But Jonah made it through! What a champ!

  Then the tour ended, and we made our way back to Las Vegas and, at some point, somebody on the bus suggested all us couples spend the last week before the wedding apart in solidarity.

  Sounded like a good idea at the time.

  But…

  Fuck, I miss my girlfriend!

  It’s been a week since I’ve seen Harmony’s beautiful face. Seven days since I’ve kissed her. Seven nights since I’ve held her little body in my arms as we fell asleep. One-hundred and seventy hours since we’ve had sex, give or take.

  Why the fuck did I agree to this?

  I absently tap my foot against my barstool as I glance around the hotel bar. It’s packed with men for Jonah’s bachelor party. What started with limos and casinos and other shenanigans has naturally ended up back here.

  The Botsford family is all here. Jonah’s older brothers; Graham, Hayden, and Ira. And Oliver, of course, the honorary fifth brother. I even spot the man himself, Kingston, making his rounds about the bar, doing his patriarchal duties. Bronson, of course. Harvey Moon and August. Rian and Doc and other long-time Botsford Plaza employees who might as well be family at this point.

  Everyone is here.

  Except Harmony. Except Marla and Addison and all the other ladies who aren’t allowed to be here because we all apparently thought this was a wonderful fucking idea.

  I drink my whiskey sour and sigh.

  Just one more day.

  After the wedding, I can throw Harmony over my shoulder and carry her to bed. Or, more likely, throw her down on the first horizontal surface we find and⁠—

  “Hey, Knox. You good?”

  I shake off the thought as Jonah slides onto the stool next to mine. “I am fantastic,” I answer him.

  He laughs. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’m having a great time. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem… stiff. A little.”

  I chuckle. “Unfortunately, no. I’m not.”

  “Bro.” He grins. “It’s been a week.”

  “Yeah, and it sucks!” He laughs at me again. “Man, fuck you for making it look easy.”

  “Hey, fuck you for saying we’d be celibuddies on tour and then hooking up with Harmony a few days later.”

  “I said nothing of the sort.”

  Jonah pats my back. “Seriously, though. You good?”

  “Yeah. I’m good. Just chilling here, enjoying a quiet drink while you catch up with your brothers. They good?”

  “They’re great. You should come over and join us.”

  “I will,” I say. “In a few minutes.”

  Jonah eyes me curiously. “Knox.”

  “Hm?”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing,” I answer.

  He furrows his brow.

  “Okay, yeah,” I say. “There is something on my mind. Something important that I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “Well, what it is?” he asks.

  “Not tonight.”

  He settles on his stool. “No, man. If you have something important to talk about, let’s talk about it. What’s up?”

  “Okay, uh…” I turn to face him. “I think we should start our own record label.”

  Jonah stares at me, unblinking.

  “Jo?” I ask when he says nothing.

  “What?”

  “I said I think we should start our own label.”

  “Yeah, I heard you. What?”

  “We don’t need Midnite Music,” I say. “You said so yourself in Seattle.”

  “I said nothing of the sort!”

  “Yes, you did!”

  “Well, I don’t remember that.”

  “Well, I do. And you’re right.” I nudge him with my elbow. “We don’t need someone else’s algorithm telling us what’s good. Or what’s popular. I say we decide. Let’s start our own label. We can sign Harmony. And Harvey! He’s not locked in anywhere yet. We’ll start with them and seek new talent wherever we go. Give back by sharing them with the world. It’ll be great!”

  “Knox…” Jonah sits still, catatonic. “I’m getting married tomorrow!”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t be thinking about this stuff right now!”

  “I told you I didn’t want to bring it up tonight, but you asked⁠—”

  “Well, I’m horny and stupid!”

  “So am I! Let’s start a label!”

  Jonah hangs his head in his hands.

  I laugh. “Jonah, don’t think about it now. Okay? Just know that I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I think we should do it.”

  He raises his head and looks at me, those little brown Botsford business eyes shining through his panic. “Why?” he asks.

  “It’s like I said. I’m sick of assholes like Paul Monroe running things. I want to be the asshole in charge for once.”

  “Why?” he asks again, wanting me to go deeper.

  “Because…” I exhale quietly. “Because I want to build something great. Something big and meaningful that… that someone else can’t take away from me with the stroke of a pen.”

  Jonah nods once, listening closely.

  “And…” I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the future. It would be nice to have some stability there. Maybe.”

  “Stability for what?” he asks, smiling.

  “Just… future stuff. I’m sure you’ve thought about it.”

  “Obviously.”

  “All I’m asking is that you think about it some more. And, you know, crack open that trust fund for it when needed.”

  “Ah, there it is!”

  We laugh.

  But Jonah nods. “I’ll think about it,” he says. “After the wedding.”

  “Oh, yeah, totally. Get married first.”

  “And after the Battle of the Bands.”

  I inhale sharply. “Oh, yeah. That’s coming up fast, too.”

  Jonah rises off his stool, and I do the same. “We might entice some investors if we win,” he says, those business gears already turning in his head.

  “When we win,” I correct. “When we win the Battle of the Bands, I’m not letting suits make decisions for me anymore. And I’ll be damned if I let Logan Shock take me down, too.”

  Jonah raises his drink to that. “We’ll talk more about it then,” he says. “For now, I think I saw Hayden whip out a poker deck, so things are about to heat up at table one.”