“So they’re like mentors.”

“Yeah, I guess. But they’re also really good friends. They don’t tour much anymore. They’re more into the producing end of things now. But they’re two of the best rock musicians I know.”

“Then I really can’t wait to see them.”

The smile on her beautiful face made his fingers twitch with the urge to touch her. Take her hand or cup her face and run this thumb along her lips. Stuff he’d never wanted to do with another girl before.

Because Tru wasn’t just another girl. He knew that. Had known that from the moment he met her. Right before they’d pissed each other off.

Which just proved he still hadn’t been right enough in the head to be in the kind of relationship she deserved or wanted. Now, all bets were off.

He wanted her and he wasn’t going to deny himself any longer. Not that he’d been doing much denying in the past few days anyway. They’d jumped right into the deep end and hadn’t come up for air yet.

As if her smile embarrassed her, she glanced down at her plate and pushed it away. “I think I’m ready to go, if you are. Will we be too early?”

“Nah, the guys are probably backstage already. I’m gonna text them and let them know I’m coming.”

“You didn’t let them know already?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell them I’d be there and then bail if . . .”

“If, what?”

“If you didn’t come with me and I decided not to show.”

Her lips curved in a curious smile. “You wouldn’t’ve gone without me?”

Honestly, he didn’t have a clue. What he wanted to say, but didn’t because he didn’t want to frighten her away, was that he didn’t want to do anything without her.

Which was so fucking ridiculous since the first time he’d kissed her had been only three nights ago. But like everything else in his life, the hurricane had taken over and swept him away.

He hoped like hell he could hold on to her until she learned how to navigate that hurricane with him.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He shook his head, trying to sort his thoughts into order. He wanted to talk to her about this, he just wasn’t sure he had the right words for it. But he’d try. “It’s gonna be tough, getting back into everything. I’ve been gone from the life for a year. Just thinking about it makes me a little twitchy.”

“Are you worried about falling back into old habits?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

Her smile softened. “It’s tough to go back but to have it be so different. To be so different.”

“Yeah.”

He realized he could just sit here and stare at her smile all night but that would probably get a little awkward for her so he caught the waitress’s eye and she brought their check in seconds.

A few minutes later, they were walking across South Street toward the Theater of the Living Arts, where the doors had already opened so there was no line at the box office.

The concert was supposed to start at eight and the crowd was a mix of ages from sixties down to elementary-school-age kids with their parents. His parents would never have taken him to a concert like this at that age, but then they hadn’t been into this kind of music.

His mom had been horrified the first time she’d come to one of their concerts and seen kids under the age of ten, wearing earplugs but singing along to all the songs sitting on their dads’ shoulders.

Pulling the ball cap lower, he headed to the box office, holding tight to Tru’s hand. A few people loitering in the lobby did a double take but no one came up to him. Maybe because they just didn’t expect to see him there. A year was a damn long time to be out of commission in his world.

He hadn’t gotten a text back from Johnny or Mac yet but he didn’t think he’d have much trouble talking his way inside if they hadn’t left him tickets.

“Tickets for Val Bastian. They would’ve been left by the band.”

The pretty blonde behind the window didn’t look at him as she turned to the side and rifled through a box. When she had to do it a second time, he had a few moments to wonder if Johnny and Mac had stopped leaving tickets for him at every date. No matter where they played, Johnny and Mac left tickets for every member of Baseline Sins. Baz and his band always did the same for them.

Maybe—

“Ah, here they are. Sorry. They were stuck at the bottom.”

Baz smiled at the girl, who returned it with a little more heat than he’d given her. He couldn’t have cared less.

Two all-access passes. Amazing how just the sight of them made him want to pump his fist in the air.

Turning to Tru, he slipped the lanyard over her head, running his fingers down the straps, to make sure it wasn’t twisted. And running his knuckles over the swells of her breasts, purely by accident, of course.

When he looked up, Tru was giving him that look, the one that let him know he wasn’t getting away with anything.

He smiled at her, grinned, actually, and she shook her head. But her lips had curved into a smile, as well.

“Come on, babe. I want you to meet the guys before they go on.”

Since the place hadn’t changed since the last time he was there several years ago, he walked over to the bouncer guarding the backstage door.

The guy glanced at them, checked their passes, then opened the door and waved them through.

No one stopped them until they got to the green room, where another bouncer, this one even bigger, held up his hand, holding a clipboard in the other.

“Name?”

“Sebastian Valenti. If I’m not on the list, check with Rick Florian, he’s the band manager.”

“You’re not on the list. The meet-and-greet for fans is down the hall.”

“If you can just—”

“Dude, I’m not a messenger.”

Because he knew how much shit bouncers dealt with on a nightly basis, he didn’t get pissed. “I get that. But can you stick your head in there and get someone? I’d appreciate it.”

With a sigh, the guy opened the door behind him and shouted, “Hey, someone with the band come and deal with this.”

Several seconds later, a teenager with long purple hair and a nose ring popped her head out the door, took one look at him and screamed as she rushed for him.

“Oh my god! Daddy is gonna freak out and die! He just got your text. Dude,” she glared up at the bouncer, “shove outta the way and let them through. If you had any taste in decent music, you’d know who the fuck this is.”

“Dana, holy shit, kid. Is it really you?”

As she grabbed his arm and pulled him and Tru past the now-scowling bouncer, the girl laughed like a demon and stopped just inside the doors to throw her arms around him.

“Damn right, it’s me. Been a while since we’ve seen each other, I know. And I’m now fully legal so you can’t call me a kid anymore.”

“No way you’re twenty-one. When the hell did that happen?”

The girl he remembered had been Johnny’s little princess, his only child when they’d first met. She’d been ten, he’d been eighteen. She’d followed all those tattooed and pierced rockers around like they were Prince Charmings, and she’d had every one of them wrapped around her little finger. He hadn’t seen as much of her as she’d gotten older, but he still saw that little girl with pigtails in the woman standing in front of him.

“Five months ago. God, it’s so good to see you, Baz. How the hell are you?”

“Better than I had been. Hey,” he pulled Tru up to his side from where she’d been hanging behind him, “I want you to meet Trudeau. Tru, Dana Owens, Johnny’s daughter and previously my number one fan.”

Dana laughed, shaking her head. “Still your number one fan. Just waiting for new music. Come on back. Daddy’s gonna cry, I swear.”

*   *   *

Tru watched Sebastian’s reunion with his friends and had to bite her lip to keep from shedding a few tears herself.

Johnny and Mac looked like two of the baddest-ass motorcycle bikers you’d never want to meet in a dark alley.