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“Yeah.” Bronx nods. “But L.A. Riot is only getting started, right? There will be other tours. And our contract with Savant Records will end.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t count on it.” I saw the contract when it was first offered. The label could drop them within a couple of years or... “They had clauses baked in that could lock L.A. Riot in for at least ten years.”

It was a standard contract, and everyone had been so hyped at what was being offered. None of us had considered that the worst-case scenario would be a CEO’s psychotic daughter trying to ruin our lives, hijack the tour, and turn the lead singer into her puppet.

“Fucking hell,” Bronx mutters.

The three of them grow silent, considering what ten years with Sonatina could be like. At least I don’t have that to look forward to. No, I get to leave. Even though that means leaving behind my guys.

Being alone again.

“There must be a way around it,” Golden says.

“How much money does L.A. Riot have?” I catch the bottle and squeeze it like a stress ball. They’ve probably made quite a bit. Even with what they thought I stole they should be making a mint. Every show has been sold out. And the tour covers multiple countries. “What about a buyout?”

Golden shares a look with Bronx.

I’m missing something. “What?”

Riot stalks into the green room, Sonatina chasing after him. Lennon trails in behind them.

The cords in his neck are straining. He collapses onto the couch next to Golden. Starts tapping two fingers on his knee.

He’s worked up about something.

Sonatina puts herself on his lap. She rests a hand on his chest.

He’s rigid. His hands curled so tightly into fists that his knuckles pale. He speaks to her quietly.

She laughs and slides her hand lower as she leans in to speak in his ear.

I try to watch them, to prove to him that I’m unaffected. Or maybe I am trying to prove it to myself. Either way, it’s an epic failure. I can’t stand to see her all over him.

“I’m bored.” Bronx lifts his arm from where he’d rested it over my belly and looks at his watch. He is probably just looking for a way out of this discomfort.

Golden stretches and yawns. “Me too. It’s still a couple of hours until we go on.”

I finish my bottle, put the cap back on and return to spinning it in the air. I will not light Sonatina on fire and see if Kodiak is right about what happens next. Riot can fuck around with whoever he wants.

Anyone but me.

“We could always play spin the bottle.” Kodiak’s gaze is fixed on my mouth.

“You want to play spin the bottle?” Bronx snorts.

“You don’t?” Golden asks, but his gaze is glued to me.

Bronx gives him a funny look. “Shit always got so weird when we’d play that dumbass game.”

“You just don’t want to get stuck kissing me,” Riot says.

“Come at me, bro.” Bronx taps his bottom lip. “Why don’t you get your ass over here and lay one on me?”

Riot straightens to his feet, dumping Sonatina unceremoniously to the floor. Striding across the space, he grabs Bronx’s face and lays the sloppiest kiss on him. Then tries to shove his tongue in his mouth. “You want some of this? Or you want to get straight to my cock in your ass, Baby?”

“Get off me, you idiot.” Laughing, Bronx shoves him off when Riot makes a whole production of trying to shove his tongue in his mouth.

I scramble to safety on Kodiak’s lap.