“‘Tell It Like It Is,’” I filled in for him.

“So, you do know it.”

“I think everyone knows that song.”

“Well, good. It’s not Paris, but it’ll have to do…for now,” he said like that closed the discussion.

I just rolled my eyes. Henry might have met me when I was depressed about Grant, so I had been slightly malleable, but under no circumstances would I consider myself that otherwise. And he was about to see it firsthand.

“I’m not going to The Drift concert. I don’t like them or their music. In fact, I despise their lead singer. He’s an asshole.”

“You speak as if you know him personally.” Henry looked over at me with interest.

“Whatever. Just tell me why you’re doing all of this.”

“It’s your birthday weekend. I like Jim, and I want to take care of his daughter tonight.”

The way he said that made me question exactly how he wanted to take care of me. I knew what Grant would be thinking in this moment even though I wasn’t sure if he was exactly an accurate representation of the male population. But the way Henry’s eyes seemed to be laughing at his own implications, I was sure he was talking about having sex with me.

“Do I need to reiterate that I have a boyfriend?”

“Of course not,” he said mockingly. “He comes up every time we’re alone.”

“I’m glad you got the memo then. So, let’s turn this cab around. I want to sleep.”

“I didn’t realize you were in such a hurry.” He arched an eyebrow in question and leaned toward me. He was visibly holding himself back from touching me.

“I’m in a hurry to get some sleep. Just sleep. Plus, I have homework to do.” I would have all day tomorrow to do it, but that didn’t matter. I’d been working my ass off to make up for that bad grade in O-chem, and I needed to keep it up. I wanted any excuse to get away from Henry.

“Well, we’re celebrating my promotion, too, and I want to take you to this concert, so we’re going. I can be as stubborn as you are.”

Apparently, that really was the end of the conversation because he didn’t take to any of the other attempts I’d made at trying to change his mind. He just sent me a devilish smile and cast his deep blue eyes over my face. I gave up, crossing my arms over my chest and sinking back into the deflated cushion.

Soon enough, the cab pulled up in front of Beacon Theatre. Henry handed over a few bills before helping me out of the vehicle. I reluctantly walked into the building. Our tickets were scanned, and the attendant let us know the opening band had already started playing—as if it wasn’t obvious by the noise coming from the theater.

And it really was noise. The Drift needed a better opener than this. What were they thinking?

I was so lost in my thoughts about the opening band that I didn’t realize Henry wasn’t walking us into the auditorium seating, but toward a roped-off door.

“Box seats?” I asked, confused. I wasn’t familiar with Beacon Theatre, and I didn’t know the layout.

“Better.”

It wasn’t until I was already backstage, staring at the dwindling line of squealing teen girls, that I fully comprehended what Henry had meant by better.

I stopped dead in my tracks. “No.”

Henry gave me a perplexed look. “Come on. Backstage passes,” he said, flashing the shiny passes he’d held back from view until that moment.

“Don’t care.”

I turned to go, but Henry latched on to my arm. “What’s with you?”

“I said no,” I spat at him. “Are you fucking deaf? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see the band. I don’t want to meet them. Now, let me go and stop this ridiculous charade. We both know why you’re doing all of this, and it’s not going to work.”

Then, I heard his laugh from over my shoulder. I could practically feel his green eyes boring into my back. When I turned around, Donovan was smiling as if he’d just won the lottery, and I was the cash prize.

I groaned as Donovan abandoned the group of girls vying for his attention and strolled over to me. “Now, that is a face I’ve missed seeing.” His eyes flickered to Henry and then back to me. He arched an eyebrow. I knew he was enjoying this. “New beau, beautiful?”

Henry looked stunned, which was the only good part about this entire ordeal.

“Hello, Donovan.”

“Did you miss me?”

“Hardly. We were just leaving, weren’t we?”

“You know the lead singer personally?” Henry asked.

“Astute deductive reasoning skills. I’m going to give you an award for your brilliance,” I said dryly.

“How do you know him?” Henry asked.

“Well, there was this time over New Year’s—” Donovan began.

I slapped him on the chest. “Do not finish that sentence.” I glowered at him.

Henry stared between Donovan and me as realization seemed to cross his face. “So, when you said he was an asshole, you meant because you guys were together,” he guessed.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yes, I’m a total groupie slut. Obviously. That’s how I know everyone. Let me call up Adam Levine and John Mayer. We’re like besties.” The sarcasm dripped off of every single word. I couldn’t hold back my disdain and disbelief that this was happening.

“Oh, come on,” Donovan said, laughter in his eyes. “An asshole is all you’ve got? I distinctly remember you comparing me to the wolf in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ and something about acting as if I were from the sixteenth century or something. I know you have better comebacks.”

“Seventeenth century. And you are an asshole, Donovan. I’m glad Grant got in a good hit. You deserved it.”

“Who is Grant?” Henry asked.

Donovan stuck a thumb out at Henry. “He doesn’t know about your boyfriend?”

“Stop! Both of you. This is enough. I’m leaving.” I spun on my heel and started for the door.

“Huh. Interesting,” Donovan mused.

I was not going to give in to him.

“I thought you were here to see him, and I just got to you first.”

My stomach twisted, and my heart thumped wildly in my chest. What was he talking about? No, he was baiting me. I wouldn’t ask. Regardless, my steps slowed.

“Now, I’m starting to wonder if you even know he’s signing.”