“Passwords are a bitch to remember. Fingerprints don’t change.” Then he hands it to me. He runs his fingers through his hair, licks his lips, and looks me up and down slowly. “You need something?”

My words rush out in a jumbled mess. “A cab, my phone … Why are you sleeping out here? It’s cold.”

He shakes his head. “I like to sleep outside.”

I gasp. “It must have gotten down to sixty degrees last night.”

His lips curl up on the side. “Camping weather.”

I shake my head and can’t help returning his grin. “You’re crazy.”

He nods once. “You need a ride?”

“I can call a cab.” I hold up his phone. Then it hits me. “You know it’s not smart to give out your password.”

“My mouth was on your pussy, my tongue in every nook and cranny of your body. I’m good with a password, Sonya.”

I am shocked, embarrassed, possibly turned on, but I remind myself who he is.

“You give all your conquests your phone and—”

He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing. “You too fucked up to remember what was said last night?”

“No, but—”

“Let me remind you.” He reaches out and lifts my chin with his finger. “I have you under me; no one else holds that position.”

“This is a bad idea.”

He shakes his head. “Come on; I’ll give you a ride.”

“No,” I say quickly as I type in a search for a cab.

“No?” He looks shocked, possibly hurt. I thought I would like him being hurt, but I don’t when it’s because of me, because I let things get so out of control.

“It’s best this way.”

“All right then.” He grabs his shirt. “See you around.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

I stand under the hot shower, thinking about last night, about how I fucked up and how I won’t fuck up again. I sure as fuck didn’t expect to open up to her like I did and get kicked in the nuts in the morning. I gave her the ultimate VIP pass, and she shot me down. What a fucking joke.

One fucked up night and I am a joke.

At least I didn’t fuck her, I think as I turn the hot water off and allow a cold blast to hit me. I sure as fuck lost my damn mind on that pussy, though. She would be thinking about that for a while.

I turn off the cold water, grab a towel, and wrap it around me as I step out.

Oral sex used to be my preferred method of giving pleasure, but it’s too damn intimate for the casual acquaintance. I gave her that, and she walked.

Bitch. Confused bitch.

It has been years since I felt that need, years since I devoured a woman like that. It used to be a craving I couldn’t contain. In the blink of an eye, however, I gave that up.

Shaking away those thoughts, I stand in front of the mirror and trim my beard up a bit. Tomorrow, we are heading on the road, and I’m pretty damn sure I won’t want the task of maintaining a grooming schedule when we will be balls to the wall traveling, doing interviews, and rocking our asses off.

When I finish, I clean the hair out of the sink and flush it down the toilet. Grabbing a pair of jeans, I pull them up, adjust my dick, and button my fly. Then I grab a Zeppelin tee and throw it on, pulling a denim button up on over it.

I walk out onto the patio, grab the cigarettes and Zippo, and light one up. Once I grab my phone sitting on the chaise and hold my thumb on the home button, it comes alive in vibrant, technological colors. Then I go to the settings and delete her paw print.

What the fuck was I thinking? That’s gotta be the most adolescent shit I have pulled in years. I ponder what the equivalent would have been back in my school years. One of those half heart key rings or a friendship bracelet? Stupid fuck. I toss the phone back down on the chaise.

Leaning against the railing, I take a few more drags from the cigarette that I know damn well isn’t good for me. Then again, nothing I have been doing for the past couple days is good for me. I’m a fucking wreck right now. Hell, if I think back, I have always been a storm of a man.

Since the ocean is calm today, I try to focus on that, draw from it, and it works … until I hear a door shut behind me.

“We gots to go, bro.”

I turn around, and River is standing there with two cups of coffee in his hands, the same digs as he was wearing last night, and his hair as fucked up as mine was this morning.

“You have a good night?” I chuckle as he walks toward me and hands me the coffee.

“If you call beating yourself off, thinking about Beyoncé good, then yeah, it was fucking epic.” He laughs.

I take a sip of the coffee. “Where do we have to be?”

“X-man’s office. Something about opening act shit.”

“He still tripping on making us pick the acts?”

He looks at me, knowing I’m pissed about it. He and I signed a deal with Stockton Records when we first started playing together, and they fucked us hard. They stole our music and gave it to another band they had. When I questioned it, they laughed us off. Two fucked-up, talented kids who partied way too much took it in the ass. The other two band members didn’t baulk; they joined another band that Stockton signed, and today, they are fucked, too. I don’t like that kind of fucking.

“Sure is. Says it’ll be good for us.”

“Yeah, good for us,” I huff then take a drag off the nearly spent cigarette. I throw it down, stomp it out, drain the cup of coffee, and look at him.

“Finn, we all gotta start somewhere right?”

I nod. “I never signed on to lift anyone up.”

“You did when you met me. No one else would have given me the fucking opportunity. Hell, I was a fucking mess of meth and heroine, a fucking—”

“You pulled me out of the depths of hell, too, man. Forced me to become the responsible one.” I smack him on the back.

He pulls his shades down and nods. “Well, let’s hope we can do that shit for someone else.” He smirks. “You and I, we’re even, right?”

He used to ask me that shit all the time, back when we played in a three piece band. It drove me nuts then.

“I’m no savior, River. We were even from go.”

“You two ready?” I look back to see Billy standing in the doorway, looking at his Apple watch.

“Your wife say it’s time?” River jokes.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a bitch to that thing on your wrist. Seriously, man.” River smacks him on the ass as he walks past him.

“It’s efficient and keeps me organized.” Billy gives him the non-rock-star Billy answer.

“Imagine if it put out?” I say, grabbing my phone. “You’d never have to leave that fucking room of yours.”

I follow Billy and River on my bike. There aren’t too many days left that I will be able to enjoy this since we will be traveling by plane or bus, though Madison is pushing for us to do as little bus travel as possible. I hope for none.

When we stop at a light, I see Billy scolding River through the back window. Then a lit cigarette comes flying out the driver side, and I can’t help laughing.

I’m sure as hell glad River has someone like him as a role model. At one point, he just had me. Now, I’m reverting into the not so damn good place. Not topping any charts on being a role model. Then again, that’s never something I wanted to be. Nor have I wanted to be about the pussy.

I only want the music—owning it, playing it, creating it—and to become the best me Finn Beckett could be. Fuck the haters, fuck the naysayers, fuck the doubters, and fuck anyone who wants to bring me down.

Memphis, Billy, Xavier, and Nickie D, they are guys to look up to, not me.

***

We are sitting in the conference room when Xavier walks in, laughing with Taelyn.

“What’s so funny?” River asks, taking his boots off the table.