When they finally had the door closed behind them, the music muted to a low drone, they faced one another.

Nik looked tired. Not just like he hadn’t slept well last night but like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Baz knew Nik could go weeks without getting more than a couple hours a night. Nik had learned at a really young age that you were most vulnerable when you were asleep. Anyone could walk into your room and you wouldn’t know.

“Hey.”

Nik had spoken first, surprising the hell out of Baz.

“Hey. How’ve you been?”

Nik shrugged, black hair glinting blue under the fluorescent lights. “Been better. You?”

“Still here. Still working.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“Good, ’cause my music needs words.”

Nik didn’t say anything to that and Baz was about to push him when Nik continued.

“Had a feeling you’d be here tonight.”

So was that why he was here? To see Baz? “I had no idea you’d turn up.”

Nik snorted and shook his head. “No, I guess you wouldn’t have.”

“Damn it, Nikky, I didn’t mean that—”

“Stop.” Nik put one hand on Baz’s chest and held it there for several seconds before shoving it back in his jeans’ pocket. “Just . . . stop. Fuck. I told myself I wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t deliberately piss you off so we’d fight. I’m so fucking sick of fighting with you.”

“We haven’t been fighting. Hell, we’ve only seen each other once in the past year.”

“Yeah, and that went real well.”

“Well, maybe we need a do-over.”

Nik shook his head. “We can’t start over, Baz. We’ve got too much history.”

Shit, that almost sounded like Nik was breaking up with him, for Christ’s sake. “I know exactly how much history we have. And I’m not willing to let any of it go.”

“Really? Because it sure as hell felt like you didn’t give one fucking shit the last time we talked.”

“You were pissed. I was pissed. Maybe we just forget what happened and go forward.”

Nik just stared at him, his expression devoid of any emotion. Baz felt like his chest was caving in.

Damn it, this shouldn’t have been so fucking hard. Had he really screwed up their relationship to the point they couldn’t restore it?

Baz refused to believe that.

Nik released a short sigh. “I’m not sure we can. I’m not sure—”

“Fuck that.” Baz closed the few steps between them and put his hands on Nik’s shoulders, their faces so close their noses almost touched. “No fucking way. I know I fucked up, okay. I know I have a lot of shit to make up for. But you’ve never given up and I’m not giving up now. I’m ready to get back to our music. And I can’t do it without you.”

Something flashed through Nik’s electric blue eyes, something Baz didn’t know how to interpret and that just pissed him off. There’d been a time when he and Nik could practically read each other’s minds.

Now . . .

Fuck.

The door flew open and Baz took a step away and turned to see Mac and Johnny walk through.

“Nikky. Holy fuck, kid.” Johnny made it to him first, wrapping him in the same bear hug he’d given Baz.

Nik returned it with a huge grin, the first Baz had seen from him tonight.

Behind Mac, coming through the door now, was Tru, who smiled at him as she walked in with Dana.

While Mac and Johnny spoke to Nik, Baz walked over to Tru.

“Sorry—”

She put her fingers over his lips, stopping the rest of his words. “Nothing to be sorry for. Did you talk?”

“Yeah but . . .” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Hey, Valenti,” one of the crew called to him. “I need to wire you.”

Frustration ate at him and he was halfway to backing out of performing, but Tru must’ve seen his intention in his face.

“I really do want to see you play.” She held on to his gaze. “Please?”

And behind him, Baz heard Mac say, “Nikky, come on, man. Baz is playing. You gotta come out and sing a few.”

Turning, he saw Nik’s gaze latch onto his.

“Really?” Nik looked like he didn’t believe it. “You’re gonna play?”

Fuck. Did he say yes or no?

“Yeah, I said I’d play a few.”

A few seconds of silence before Nik nodded. “Okay. Sure.” Nik finally looked away. “It’s been awhile, though. Not sure how I’m gonna sound.”

Mac slapped Nik on the back, making Nik smile as his entire body shook.

“Kid, I have no doubt you’ll sound like you never left the stage. Audience is gonna go batshit when they see you two.”

Yeah. Baz just hoped he and Nik didn’t go batshit on each other before the end of the show.

*   *   *

Watching Nik and Sebastian do that awkward will-they-won’t-they dance, Tru hoped like hell that Baz didn’t want to strangle her after the concert.

For one thing, Greg and Sabrina were on their way.

For another, this impromptu reunion was about to be filmed.

Sure, the thousand people in the audience probably all had phones that they’d whip out to record the momentous occasion. But Tru had taken it one step further.

While Nik and Sebastian had been talking, she’d gotten a text from Greg.

Are you at TLA with Baz?

Yeah, why?

My fucking Twitter feed’s blowing up. Hire a freelance photog to film if he gets onstage and picks up a fucking guitar. We’re on our way. Be there in ten. I hope.

She took a few seconds to consider Greg’s demand because, honestly, she wasn’t sure Sebastian would want this filmed. What if something happened between Nik and him and they ended up beating the hell out of each other onstage?

Then again, what if they were amazing and no one with a decent camera and a steady hand got footage?

She’d leaned over to Dana, still standing by her side, her gaze glued to Sebastian and Nik.

“Dana, I need your help. Can you find out how many freelance photographers have passes tonight? I need to hire one of them.”

The girl’s gaze narrowed, her head tilting to the side as if she didn’t understand. Then her eyes widened and she nodded. “Don’t need to. I’ve got the guy for you. Be back in a sec.”

Nik and Sebastian had disappeared, and she made arrangements with a seasoned pro whose eyes had glowed like a kid on Christmas morning when she’d told him why she wanted to hire him.

He’d taken her card, on which she’d written the amount he’d be paid, tipped his fingers to her and walked off with a smile, whistling.

Now she watched as one of the crew wired Sebastian for the guitar and another wired Nik for a mic. Johnny and Mac kept up a steady stream of conversation, which she suspected was designed to keep Nik and Sebastian from thinking too closely about what they were about to do.

Nik kept looking at Sebastian, as if to make sure he was still there, while Sebastian familiarized himself with the guitar Mac had put in his hands seconds ago.

When one of the crew popped his head through the door and announced, “Three minutes,” she saw Nik take a deep breath and shake his head. Then he rolled his shoulders, hopped up and down four times and shoved his hands through his hair, pushing the inky black mess away from his face and showing off his incredible bone structure.

She certainly appreciated his look, but the guy didn’t do it for her the way Sebastian did. Sebastian was handsome in all the right ruggedly masculine ways.

Nik had that perfect male-beauty thing going for him.

And she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Dana couldn’t keep her eyes off him. But Nik only saw Sebastian.

Three minutes later, everyone was moving toward the stage. Sebastian held the guitar in one hand and Tru’s hand in the other.

They didn’t say anything as they walked through the maze of equipment and cables and people to the wings, where Nik and Sebastian stayed just out of sight of the crowd.

Obviously members of the audience had seen Sebastian in the wings during the first intermission, which was how Greg had found out he was there. But she’d been checking social media and hadn’t yet seen mention of Nik.