Chaos

Not surprising. Even Danica’s own friends can’t stand her. But Mike . . . I still don’t think he’s over her. Six years, and he’s still never given another girl the chance he gave her. He probably still thinks she’s the one who got away.

I try to put her out of my mind, finding Kit’s gaze across the stage. She knows something’s up, and I smile at her to ease the tension that’s tightening the inside walls of my chest.

My smile gets bigger when I think about what she’d do if I told her that the girl who broke Mike’s heart is here. She’d probably tear her guitar from her neck and do a kamikaze dive off the stage. Her entire family has a penchant for violence, and my girl is no exception.

“What’s wrong?” she asks as soon as we’re backstage before our encore, and I curse my face for giving me away.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asks, her hands curling into the soft fabric at my waist as she scrunches her nose at me.

“Know what I’m thinking,” I answer.

She can read me like a book of music, and I’m not sure yet if I like it or not. But that’s just Kit. Maybe it’s the product of having grown up with four brothers. Or maybe it’s something she learned from being a twin. Or maybe it’s just because she knows me like no one else does, because she’s close to me in a way that no one else has ever been.

Her dark eyes narrow up at me, her long lashes drifting together. “Stop trying to distract me.”

Since we promised not to keep secrets from each other ever again, I take a deep breath and drop my lips to her ear. “Mike’s ex is here.”

And, being the pro that she is, she doesn’t even glance his way. She keeps her eyes locked on me as I pull away. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I shake my head.

“What are you talking about?” Mike asks as he towels the back of his neck. He’s a sweat-drenched mess, just like the rest of us, after beating on the drums the way he does. He’s the best fucking drummer I’ve ever seen, and one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and if Danica Carlisle thinks I’m going to let her crush him again—

“Nothing,” Kit and I both say in unison.

Mike raises an eyebrow, stumbling forward when Adam claps him hard on the back. “One more song.”

We drag ourselves back onstage, play one final song, and then Adam and I begin walking off, pretending we don’t hear Danica shouting, “ADAM! ADAM! IT’S ME, DANICA!”

Even Joel finally notices her, and I have a mini panic attack as I imagine him saying something to Mike before Adam or I get the chance to stop him—but then Kit’s arm is hooking around his and she’s saying something in his ear. He casts a look at me, and then at Adam, before entering our silent agreement to keep pretending Danica’s dead.

And I breathe easy again—too fucking easy, because when we walk out to the buses, there she fucking is.

“MIKE!” she shouts, breaking into a sprint and throwing herself into his arms. Kit takes a step forward, but I catch her by the elbow before she can do anything that would earn her charges and jail time.

Mike’s arms hang limp at his sides as Danica hugs him like she never left him—like they’re still high school sweethearts. I want him to push her away and tell her to go fuck herself . . . but that isn’t Mike, and eventually, his arms lift to hug her back.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” she squeals, leaving me, Adam, and Joel looking at each other like what the fuck.

“What are you doing here?” Mike asks, but Danica is already pulling away to smile wide at Adam. She wraps him in a hug he doesn’t return and finally answers Mike.

“I live here now.”

Danica hugs Joel next, who pacifies her with a one-fingered tap to her back, and then she moves to me, but I step out of reach. “What are you doing at our show?” I ask, and she pouts at me before giving a bullshit answer.

“I wanted to see Mike.”

“Why?” Mike says before any of us can ask the same question, and it’s the tiny girl who was standing next to Danica in the crowd who’s the next to open her mouth. The girl can only be five foot one at best, with a short auburn bob and big, green eyes.

“Yeah, Dani, why?”

Danica shoots a glare over her shoulder before smiling sweetly up at Mike. “Can we talk?”

Kit gets twitchy with the urge to answer for him, and I hook my arm around her shoulder to keep her from pouncing on anyone. I know how she feels—I want to answer for Mike too, because anything other than “No, you fucking heartless bitch” won’t do, but I keep my mouth shut and wait.

“Sure,” he says. And then he leads her onto the bus.

“I WANTED TO punch her in her stupid face,” Kit says the next day at her parents’ place. As usual, her dad is in the bathroom, her mom is in the kitchen, and the rest of us are hanging in the den—me, Kit, Leti, all four of Kit’s brothers . . . I’m still not sure if they like me yet or not, but at least they’re not still trying to put me in the hospital.

I’m rubbing the phantom bruises on my side, and Mason is smirking, when Kit furrows her brow at me and says, “Do you think they hooked up?” Her eyes search mine, but I know she already knows the answer.

Yeah, I think they hooked up. When Danica asked him to show her the other bus and Mike agreed, the rest of us sat with her cousin, Hailey, on the double-decker. It was awkward as hell, but Hailey handled it like a champ. As soon as she saw Mike’s video game setup, she asked if she could play, and then she and Peach entertained themselves while the rest of us wished the she-devil on the other bus would hurry up and dive back down to hell. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">