He gave me a boyish, pleased grin. “Yep.”

“It smells amazing.” I slid onto the stool across from him while Brandon puttered around making coffee. “Since when do you cook?”

He shrugged. “I helped out in the kitchen at the rehab facility. I liked it. It stuck.”

“It’s been great on tour.” Brandon pushed a coffee toward me. “Sometimes we actually eat real food.”

“Well, you should,” I said. “You know how important it is to put the right stuff in your body for touring. You need energy.”

They shared a look, something nostalgic and sad passing between them, and I realized that I used to say that all the time, lecturing them on the crap they put in their bodies.

Deciding it was now or never, I said, “How is Macy doing?”

They shared another look, this one a little more unreadable, and Micah plated the frittata. Brandon spoke first. “She’s having a hard time. With the album not doing so great, she feels the fans are coming down on her for it.”

“But she didn’t write the album,” Micah grimaced. “Austin and I did.” I hesitated to say what I wanted, but Micah read my expression. “Just say it.”

“Well, I had a listen to the album the other day.”

“And?” Brandon asked.

“It sounds like you were trying to write songs you thought I might write.”

“It sounds like that because it’s true. We were trying not to piss off any more fans,” Micah huffed, shoving a plate across the island to me.

“Thanks,” I said. “Look, Tellurian is now Tellurian 2.0. It has to be different but as long as it’s authentic, the fans won’t care. If they do, you’ll get new fans. Micah, you need to write the songs that mean something to you. And on that note, if Macy is capable, she should be involved in the writing process. She is singing the songs.”

“You don’t feel weird talking about her?” Brandon asked between bites.

I wrinkled my nose. “I didn’t want to know anything about her or the band when I first took off. However, I realized when I was checking up on you guys that I’m glad you picked her. She was always nice and she has a great voice.”

“It’s not your voice though,” Micah grumbled.

“No, it’s hers. And you can make that work for you. Side note, does Macy really want the rainbow hair or was that Gayle’s idea?”

“Gayle’s idea,” they said in unison.

“Then scrap it. Macy isn’t me and she shouldn’t be forced into trying to be me. That’s part of the pressure she’ll be feeling. Let her be herself. In every way.”

The guys shared a look and then nodded. Micah surprised me by turning to me and offering, “Thanks, Skylar.”

Tenderness for them welled inside me. “You will always be my family. I know I didn’t treat you right, but I’m going to be here for you from now on, no matter what. I want you all and Macy to succeed because you deserve to. You’ve worked too hard not to.”

“And you?” Brandon asked. “Are you really okay about this album you’re launching?”

Unable to meet their eyes, I took a bite of food and used the time to think about how to frame my answer. “They’ve promised me that I don’t have to take part in the social media thing and that once the big blow-up over my return happens, they’ll work their asses off to make sure my private life remains out of the tabloids.”

“They can’t guarantee that, Sky,” Micah said.

“I know. But it is possible.”

Micah shook his head. “Not for you. You have a quality, charisma, it draws people to you. It’s the reason the fans were obsessed with you and why the tabloids came after you.”

I flushed at his description of me. “Not true. They came after us because of our whole angsty-love thing.”

“That was part of it, but after the rehab news, they left me alone. When I’m not partying and getting wasted or pining after you, apparently I’m boring.”

“Micah’s right. I’m worried about you,” Brandon said. “I hate to think you’ve been forced into something you don’t want to do.”

Pressure, much like anxiety, settled over my chest but I covered the discomfiting feeling with a smile. “I love you guys for caring, but it’s just one album. If things blow up in my face, then I walk.”

“It’s one album that could have the paps hounding you for a while.”

“I know.”

“They’ll be outside your house, your hotels, the places you shop, the restaurants you eat in. They’ll try to hack your phone again, dog your friends—”

Brandon sighed, “She gets it, Micah. Stop.”

“Well, I’m worried.” He shrugged.

“I’m asking you not to be.” I flashed him a cheeky grin and changed the subject. “This frittata rocks.”

He smiled, pleased. “Yeah, I got pretty good.”

“We need to get back to the hotel. All our shit is there,” Brandon said. “We were talking and we thought maybe later today Micah and I could visit your record label, meet this Killian guy, and see what it’s all about.”

Brandon. My protective big brother.

The thought of them meeting Killian, however . . .”Oh, I’m not sure about that. They run a pretty tight schedule over there. We’d probably have to make appointments and they might not be able to fit us in while you’re here.”

“Sky,” Brandon gave me his no-nonsense face. “We’re visiting that label. No discussion.”

I slumped on my stool. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

After we finished breakfast, I walked the guys downstairs to wait on their cab with them. They shivered in the cold November air. “I hope you brought warmer clothes than that.” I gestured to the shirts they wore over T-shirts.

“Uh, not really.” They shared a look and chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re both spending way too much time in LA.”

“The weather is nice.” Brandon nodded, although his eyes twinkled in a way that reminded me it wasn’t the weather keeping him California.

“When do you need to get back for Heather?”

“Soon. Real soon. But I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

“I am okay.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” His eyes flew over my shoulder. “That looks like our cab. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me, bending down to lift me into a hug. I held on, hiding my smile in his shoulder. The knot in my stomach shrunk a little bit more again. When he lowered me, he pressed a kiss to my nose. “I’m calling you in two hours.”

“Okay.” I grinned, feeling warm and fuzzy that not only had he forgiven me but he still intended to worry over me despite the ocean I’d put between us.

“Come here.” Micah drew me into a hug. This one I went into more tentatively but when his arms banded tight around me, I couldn’t help but hold him back just as tight. There was too much history and affection there not to. I felt his lips on my shoulder and tensed a little. Micah felt it and lifted his head to stare into my eyes. “I know,” he said. “I get it. It’s going to take me a little more time. That okay?”

Understanding he meant moving on from seeing us in a romantic light, I nodded and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned slightly so the kiss landed on the corner of his mouth. My skin prickled with the scratch of his stubble and I jerked back.

It was hard not to drown in his mournful gaze right then, but I gently extricated myself and stepped back. “See you soon.”

Micah got in the cab first so I took the opportunity to grab Brandon’s hand. He frowned and leaned down to me so I could whisper, “He said last night that he needed a drink. Watch him, please.”

Expression grim, he nodded. “I got his back.”

I squeezed his hand in thanks and let him go. While I watched the cab pull away, I thought I saw movement in a car across the street—like someone ducking down to hide.

My pulse skipped in alarm and I squinted to get a better look. Unable to see anything, however, I had to put it down to lack of sleep and general jitteriness after such a big evening. Heading back inside my apartment, all I wanted to do was hit the hay but I knew Brandon and Micah weren’t going to let up about seeing the label and meeting Killian.