My skinny jeans were somewhere on the floor, and I winced as I pulled them on. This was not going to be fun. After throwing my shirt and cardigan back on, I went looking for Grant. The bathroom was empty, but the shower seemed to beckon me. I would die for a shower and a hamburger right about now, not at the same time. Maybe. I peeked my head out of the room to make sure I wouldn’t get caught in any crossfire this time, and I found the room mostly empty.

Grant was sitting on the couch with his guitar in his lap. He expertly picked at a few chords and repeated one line over and over again. I recognized it from their song “Letting You.” They liked to close with that song, and it was one of my favorites.

“I like that one,” I whispered, coming out of the bedroom and taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah. It’s one of Miller’s best. How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock. You couldn’t sleep?”

“Too pumped about the show.”

He strummed out a melody I hadn’t heard before, and I stretched out as he played it on repeat.

“You’ll be great.”

“All I know how to do, Princess.”

“What’s this song? I haven’t heard it.”

“Something new.”

“I didn’t know Miller had written something new for the show.”

Grant stopped what he was playing and ran his fingers back through my loose hair. I sighed and closed my eyes.

“I wrote this one,” he finally murmured.

“Oh,” I said, surprised. I hadn’t known that he wrote music. “Will you play it again?”

He picked up on the rhythm he had been playing, and I let the music soothe me. Now that I was listening, I could tell that it had a different quality than what Miller usually came up with. It was softer, yes, but it was almost more emotional with more heart.

“Are you going to sing for me?”

“Tonight.”

“You’re singing for the whole lodge tonight.”

“I’ll only be thinking about you.”

I giggled and sat up. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“You’re accusing me of charming girls with music?” he asked with his distinctive smirk.

“Oh no, not you. Certainly not you.”

I knew that he’d used his music hundreds of times to pick up women, but I wished that this song were just for me and that I really was the only girl he would be singing for. Maybe I was being petty. He was my boyfriend. Just because we were together and had sex didn’t mean that I erased everything that had ever happened before that. And I didn’t need to. We were together, and that was what mattered.

“You know,” I said, letting the music take me away, “we work well together.”

“You think?” he asked, amused.

“Against all logic…yes.”

“Yeah, you’ve got the world at your feet, and you’re with a guy like me,” he said offhand.

I knew it affected him.

And he was right in a way. We had come from two different worlds, had grown up in two shockingly different ways, and had coped with our lifestyles in completely different fashions. My parents were high society, and his father was in jail. It didn’t make sense.

But it did.

“Even though we grew up differently, we’ve come out very similar.”

That did surprise Grant. “What? You’re a boozing manwhore? Did I miss that?”

I laughed. “No! I just mean that up until you, I’d never let anyone close enough to really get to know who I am. My parents aren’t exactly emotional, and my education was my escape.”

He nodded in understanding. “Before you, there was no one. Just the next high.”

“Yeah. It’s easier to be emotionless even if that means trying to come off as a carefree playboy.”

“Hey, that’s not an act!”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. But do you get what I mean? I kind of bring you back down to earth, and I think you open up my world a bit.”

“Just a bit,” he said with a wink. His hand traveled down my thigh.

I laughed and shook him off. “I’m being serious.”

We were shockingly different yet perfectly in sync. It was a harmony, a yin and a yang. In that moment, as I lay there listening to him play his music, I felt like things were right where they were supposed to be.

“That’s why I keep you around.”

“To be serious?”

“Someone has to be,” he said, reaching for me again.

“And here I thought it was for the sex,” I joked.

“When you put it like that…”

I shook my head at him, and he captured my lips again.

“Definitely more than the sex,” he said.

I liked that answer.

“We could always go again.”

“Whoa there!” I held up my hand to stop his advance. “I should go back to my room. I bet my friends are freaking out. Plus, I really need a shower.”

“I can arrange a shower.”

He reached for me, but I slipped out of his grasp.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of showering with you.”

“Might get tempted?”

“Might break in half.”

“I don’t see a problem,” he said, looking at me hungrily.

“I’ll see you at the show.”

“Hey, Ari,” Grant called when I reached for the door. “Come early. I want to show you a real backstage.”

Chapter 33: Grant

When Ari left, I took a quick shower, threw on some jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, and left for the lodge with my leather jacket and guitar. Our set started in a few hours, but I figured it would be a good idea to get there early and see what was going on. Maybe I could meet a few people. I had no interest in all the talk about labels looking at us, but it still tickled at the back of my mind.

What would it be like if a label liked us and wanted to sign us on? Would we record an album in L.A., tour with another band, make a living on the road? Would I see Ari?

I stopped that whole train of thought. It didn’t f**king matter because we weren’t f**king signed. We had no prospects. We were just here for the f**king music, just like McAvoy had said. I loved my guitar, my brothers, the band, everything. I wanted it to f**king stay that way.

The lodge was teeming with people for the music festival, so I cut around to the side entrance for employees, bands, and staff only. Since there were so many acts, our equipment was still waiting in the back of our van. We would set it up once we got closer to showtime.