“But you haven’t given anything to Nik yet.”

He shook his head. “The last time we talked, things didn’t go so well.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Zach sighed and scrubbed a hand through his short curls. “You guys need to try that again. This time without the punching.”

“How is he?”

Zach stared at him hard, like he was trying to read him. “You really wanna know?”

Baz tried not to take that the wrong way. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

Zach shrugged. “He’s pissed. He’s depressed. And he’s ready to give up on you.”

It hurt like a fucking blade in his gut. “That go for the rest of the guys?”

“Nah. We know you’ll be back. Nik needs more from you. You know that. He always has.”

Baz nodded, that knife twisting a little deeper.

“So you gonna play me some of this new music or what? I gotta say I’m curious as all hell.”

Baz had to admit he was just as curious about what Zach would think of what he’d created.

But there was that niggling prick at the back of his brain that he couldn’t quite ignore.

What if Zach hated it? What if Baz had lost the fire he needed to write the kind of music he loved?

*   *   *

By the time she got back to her apartment, Tru had almost convinced herself that tonight hadn’t happened.

That it’d all been some weird, drug-induced dream.

That she hadn’t let Sebastian kiss her and hadn’t actually come around his fingers.

But she’d never been able to fool herself for long. She was too damn practical for that.

No, she’d fucked up good and needed to fix the situation.

Sure, smart girl, how are you going to do that?

Damn good question. One that was going to keep her up all night.

Along with the ache between her legs.

Damn it.

She’d already stripped off her dress, pulled on her oldest, rattiest sweats and huddled into the corner of her comfy sectional, remote in one hand, glass of wine in the other.

After flipping through more than two hundred stations for a second time and finding nothing to watch, she flipped off the TV with a huff and tossed the remote at the opposite corner. She eyed her phone, but if she called her dad a second time today, he’d be on the first plane out, looking to put a hole through whoever was causing his daughter distress.

She should call Greg and explain why she and Sebastian had disappeared. Then again, she figured he’d call when he got the chance. Or he’d give her the third degree tomorrow.

And she couldn’t call Sabrina because if Greg hadn’t already called, then they were still wining and dining.

Wow, and how pitiful was she that she had only two people on her call list.

Which wasn’t necessarily true. She could call Crystal, her best friend from high school. She hadn’t talked to her in a few weeks. Or if she was really desperate, she could call her sister. And that made her feel like a total bitch.

Checking the clock, she knew Violet would still be awake with the time difference.

Since she couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she’d last talked to her sister, she figured that was as good enough of an excuse as any to call.

Guess I really am that desperate.

“Hey, Tru, is that you?”

“Hey, Vi. How’s it going?”

“Oh, it’s going.” Her sister’s droll response lacked its normal side helping of superiority.

I am so totally a bitch tonight. This was a bad idea.

No, she could do this. She could totally have an adult conversation with her sister. “You sound tired.”

Her sister’s unamused snort made Tru’s back stiffen.

Here it comes. The rundown of everything in Vi’s life that totally didn’t suck but she would totally make seem like it did.

Like the fact that she had a great husband and three wonderful kids and a house she adored and—

“It’s been a long week. So, what’s new with you?”

Whoa. That was it? Okay, that totally wasn’t like her sister. “Um, not too much. We’re getting everything in place to release Greg’s film in June. The guy doing the score is almost finished and that’s the last piece Greg needs for post-production.”

“How’s your new apartment? The pictures look nice.”

Was that a dig? Tru couldn’t tell. Truthfully, this whole conversation with her sister was so damn strange. Vi didn’t sound like herself tonight.

Was the whole damn world out to make her think she was crazy tonight?

“Ah, the new place is great, actually. I love it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. So what’s wrong?”

Tru’s back stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Vi’s huff sounded loud and clear through the phone. “I mean, what’s the problem? I can hear it in your voice.”

“I . . . I’m fine.”

“Do you need money?”

“What? No, I don’t need money. Why would you think that?”

“Well, gee, I don’t know. I don’t hear from you for months, and then you call out of the blue sounding like someone kicked your puppy. So spill.”

Her only response? “I don’t have a puppy.”

Her sister’s laugh sounded a little more normal now. “Okay, now I totally know something’s up. Tru, what’s wrong?”

“I . . . Fine. The musician Greg hired to do the score is a dick and he’s driving me crazy.”

“Ah.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, you haven’t given me much to go on. Do you want me to commiserate or kick you in the ass?”

“Truthfully?” She paused. “I don’t know.”

Vi huffed out a laugh. “Wow, something my amazingly brilliant baby sister doesn’t know. I can’t decide whether to laugh hysterically or be quietly dumbfounded.”

And she realized this is why she’d called her sister. Because Vi would call her on her bullshit.

“You could sound a little less gleeful.”

“Are you kidding? First of all, I can’t believe you called me about a guy. That in itself is amazing because I can’t remember the last time you did. High school, maybe? And second, you never think I have the answer to anything.”

That made Tru’s mouth drop open. Because Vi was right. “Have I always been such a bitch?”

Vi laughed loud and long. “Oh, hon, I think we’ve both had our share of bitchy. I’m just older and realized it faster. So tell me about this guy.”

Surprisingly, she wanted to.

“He’s an arrogant jerk who rubs me the wrong way every chance he gets.” And exactly the right way tonight. “I can’t stand him.” Bullshit. “I loathe him.” Except when he’s making me come. “And I don’t think I can stand to work with him anymore because he makes me want to gouge his eyes out.”

Unless I want to suck his tongue into my mouth.

“So who is this amazing man who drives Tru-the-Saint crazy?”

She decided to rise above and ignore the saint comment. “He’s a guitarist in a rock band.”

Vi paused. “Seriously?” So very much wonder expressed in that one word. “What band?”

“Baseline Sins.”

“Trev or Sebastian?”

“Wait, you know who Baseline Sins is?”

Vi snorted. “Don’t sound so surprised. I have kids but I’m not dead. Chris listens to them all the time and I like them.”

Well, damn. She’d learned something new about her sister. “Sebastian.”

“I heard he nearly died from an overdose last year.”

Tru’s immediate response was to stand up for him. “He’s fine now. He’s doing a great job on the score.”

“Ah.”

“Ah, what?”

“You’re attracted to the guy. Can’t say I blame you. I’ve seen their videos. The man’s downright fuckable.”

Tru’s mouth hung open for at least thirty seconds while her brain whirled in a continuous feedback loop of her sister saying “fuckable.”

“Damn, I’ve rendered you speechless.” Vi’s laughter held a hint of evil glee. “I have to say I’m kind of proud of myself right now.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?”

“She’s sitting right here, loving just how much you’re completely flustered by a guy.”