“What for?”
“For being you. For being constant. For being my rock in this chaos. I couldn’t have survived this without you.”
I kiss him, so soft, so slow, sosure, and his breath hitches against my lips.
Then I murmur, “Did you call Jodie?”
He nods. “Yeah. This morning.”
Yesterday was for us. For breathing. For curling up in our own little cocoon where the outside world couldn’t touch us. But today… today is about facing shit. About fixing it. Starting with what the fuck we’re going to do about Mick. Because no one gets to lay hands on my Jace.
“The label’s cooperating,” he continues, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “More than I thought they would, honestly. Jodie looped them in right away. Apparently, Mick’s had incidents in the past like this. Stuff buried under NDAs and rehab headlines, but… it’s not a good look.”
“Damn right it’s not,” I mutter.
“They’re pulling the duet,” Jace says, smiling for real now. “We’re doing a different encore. A mashup. Something from Six of Hearts and ours. Without Mick.”
A rush of pride burns in my chest. “Fuck yes.”
“He’s benched for now. They’re having him do their show, but that’s it. The label’s not happy with him. Not at all.”
“Good,” I say, so fucking relieved, brushing my thumb under his eye. “Let him fucking sweat. You’re gonna own the stage without him.”
Jace lets out a long breath. “God, I hope so.”
I pull him closer again. “You will. You’ve got this. And I’ve got you.”
I move in to kiss him again, to feel those lips one more time. Shit I know it’s a damn addiction but—
“Time’s up, lovebirds!” There’s a loudBANG BANG BANGon the door that snaps me back. “Get your asses moving!” Ev’s voice booms from the other side, full of impatience.
Door opens. “Why the fuck are you not dressed? Do youknowhow minutes work? We said ten, that was fifteen minutes ago. Get up, divas.”
Jace shoots me a grin. It’s wide and full of confidence. “I guess it’s showtime.”
“Fuck yes,” I say, my heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. “Let’s go remind the world exactly who the fuck you are.”
NINETEEN
Watchingourgroupoffriends come back together like this heals something in me that broke the second Mick’s lips pressed to mine. Not all of it. That sense of wrongness still wraps around me like a second skin, but it definitely helps ease some of the tension that’s been lingering in my shoulders.
Right after we all file onto the tour bus with Rafa and Ev bringing up the rear, it hits me: this was our home. Has been for the last eight months. We loved here, cried here,livedhere. This bus has carried our dreams and our heartbreaks. It’s seen us at our best and at our worst. It gave me joy. It also gave me sadnessand solitude. And now we’re parked in the very last spot of the tour. The place where this whole chapter finally ends.
But at this moment? It’s pure, beautiful mayhem. And somehow, it’s never felt more right than it does now.
Ava immediately launches herself onto Tuck’s broad back as he approaches Asher, who’s lounging on the couch, her laughter carefree as she clings to him like a pink koala.
Miles sneaks past them, pulls Asher up, and they crash into each other for a hug, all backslaps and crooked smiles, like no time has passed at all. Within seconds, they’re deep in some heated debate about the latest game they’re both obsessed with, completely locked in their own little gamer bubble.
And Lam… he just stares at Missy, who’s perched on the breakfast nook table, bare feet dangling. Hesitant smiles stretch across both their faces, the awkwardness so palpable you could slice it. They haven’t seen each other in months, and yeah, I know Missy’s in a good place now, but still…
Then, at the exact same time, Lamar mutters a low “fuck this,” just as Missy blurts out, “I’m so sorry.”
That’s all it takes.
He closes the space between them in two long strides, dragging her into a hug so tight he lifts her clean off the table. He mumbles an “I’m so proud of you,” and she lets out a very un-Missy sob, arms flying around his shoulders as she buries her face in his neck. That sob feels like it holds everything, every apology, every unspoken word, everyI’m sorry for hurting you and I hope you’re okayshe couldn’t bring herself to say until now.
Ty’s arm snakes around my shoulders from where we’re leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at them. They stay like that for a long beat, until she suddenly yelps, slapping at his shoulders in a panic until he finally lets her go and steps back.
