Emerson grunted right next to him in the seat. “That’s my best friend, asshole.”

Braden shot back, “You don’t agree with keeping her away from him?”

My cousin lowered his head. My brother had him with that one. Luke shook his head. “Why are you making this same argument? I already said she’s in.” He said to me, “And I mean it, Bri. I know your history with Candy Lake. Be nice. She has two parties every summer and more during the winter. She booked us in the past, and she pays the best. I don’t want to lose this gig. We need the money.”

Candy Lake? Move over Emerson; she was another admirer of mine. My lips twitched at my own joke. I was lame, and so was Candy Lake. She wasn’t as bad as Emerson with her hatred of me. No one was. The last time I saw her, the two of us ended up pulling each other’s hair and rolling on the ground. It had been a chick fight gone bad and not one of my glorious moments. I could fight better than that, but she got me on a night when I had been drunk, way too drunk. The party loved it. I had not.

I shrugged. “I won’t start anything with her.” But if she started something like other girls had in the past, she had another think coming.

“I mean it, Bri. You hated her in high school. Don’t start anything tonight.” He walked around me and went to the driver’s side. As he got in, Braden clapped his hand on the seat. “Come on, Bri. Hop your ass in here so we can go and make some girls’ panties wet.”

Because that made sense.

I shook my head and got into the van. As Braden slammed the side door shut, I remarked, “We need to have a talk where you remember that I’m your sister.”

Braden winked at me. “You are, but come on, you’re going to be treated like a dude now.”

“For some reason I feel like that’s a compliment, but I have no idea why.”

Emerson rolled his eyes. “We’re treating you like an equal. Stop complaining about it.”

“Why don’t you stop complaining?” I gripped my armrest. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”

He was staring at me. “Keep it—”

“Shut up,” Luke clipped out, pulling out of the parking lot. “Both of you. Here's the plan. We’re going to the party, we’ll do the set we practiced with Bri in the basement, and then we’ll head back. The two of you don’t even need to talk to each other.”

“She—”

“Got it?” Luke barked, giving Emerson a pointed look in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.” My cousin lowered his head. “Got it.”

“Bri?” Luke addressed me.

“Yeah?”

“No fighting.”

I cracked a grin. We’ll see.

“I mean it.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

The drive wasn’t long to get to her house, and from what I remembered about Candy Lake, I wasn’t surprised to see the mansion and guest house sitting on the beach, surrounded by trees. Luke drove right up to a stage that was perched in front of the house, facing the ocean. He took off, and the rest of us started to unpack the equipment. No one spoke, which surprised me, but I was grateful at the same time. Emerson still seemed pissed, and Braden kept stopping to check out every girl that walked by us.

Candy Lake was the popular girl in high school. Luke and Braden had been popular, too, but they never cared or worked for it. People just liked them, and lucky for me, they were content to hang out with me. The popular girls and I never mixed well. They talked about things that didn’t interest me—fashion, boyfriends, and gossip—and I only wanted to play drums. Growing up as a tomboy, I was the most comfortable hanging out with my brother and his friends.

“Are we ready to go?”

Luke had come back. He hoisted himself onto the stage in one fluid movement. The athleticism shouldn’t have been impressive, it was one leap, but it took my breath away. He looked like a damn cat. That had been another thing about Luke. He was gorgeous, dark, mysterious, and athletic. He could’ve played sports, been worshiped for just that feat, but he only cared about music and…I swallowed tightly…me.

“Bri!” Braden yelled in front of me.

“What?” I jerked back. As I glanced around, they were all looking right at me, and my cheeks instantly reddened. “You guys were talking?”

Emerson cursed and bent back over his guitar, tuning it.

“So, you’re ready?” Braden stepped in front of me and took my shoulders in his hands. “I know it’s your first time with us in front of a crowd, but you can do it. You’re a natural. Our practice set was amazing. We didn’t have too many hiccups.”

“Emerson hadn’t been there.”

My brother let go of my shoulders, stepping away. “He plays the same as Gunn, better. Em will be fine. We’re good to go.” He cursed then. “Maybe you’re right. Luke, you think we should do a practice set?”

Luke adjusted the microphone stand, his eyes shifted to me. “Yeah. It wouldn’t hurt.”

“Good.” Braden clapped his hands together and moved to pick up his guitar. “Let’s do this shit. We’re going to be awesome.”

Emerson grunted, rolling his eyes. “Are you on something? If you are, not fair. Share it, cousin.” He opened his lips, showing his teeth for a second. “Anything would help to get us through this.”

He wasn’t talking about the gig. He was referencing me. I got the insult immediately. My eyes narrowed to slits, and without realizing what I was doing, I surged for him. Enough was enough, but Luke stepped right in front of me. He caught me and held me back, throwing over his shoulder to Emerson, “Could you stop? It’s getting old, and I’m likely to kick you to the curb instead.” One of his hands rested on my hip, and I went still at the touch, feeling burned from the slightest pressure.