The sting of fans wanting me to rename my child crawled up my spine, followed closely by that stupid producer’s stupid words—He is the talent. While that sentence still sizzled my skin, the praises that Kellan’s numerous fans bombarded me with shuffled through my brain, leaving whiplike scars across my skull. He’s so amazing, so sexy, so good onstage, he has such a good voice and such a great body, and he seems like such an amazing husband, father, lover, person…

And you…you’re good too.

Fuck that. I was so much better than good, it was ridiculous. Sure, I might have blown it when Matt had given me a chance on lead, but that was nerves and lack of practice. They never let me play, so how could they expect me to rock it at a moment’s notice. But if they gave me all the chances that they gave Matt, I’d be prolific in no time. I mean, I’m a savant, how could I not be awesome? Which brought to my greatest beef with the band—Matt proclaiming that I’d never do anything but play bass. You will never play lead. Those words still pissed me off. I didn’t see one good reason why we couldn’t share the spotlight.

The guys needed to accept my greatness instead of trying to bury it even further. Yeah, since the very beginning of the band, they’d been too busy holding me back to truly appreciate me. And now I’d bumped into the proverbial ceiling with the D-Bags, and I had nowhere left to go.

Fuck. I needed to be drunk, not hiding in my room overthinking shit I couldn’t change.

Tossing the ball into the closet, I stood up and grabbed my keys off my nightstand. Anna would probably be pissed when she got home and found out that I’d left our kids with my family, but at the moment, I didn’t care. She could bitch at me all she wanted, I was leaving.

Stepping into the living room, I could hear shrieks and howls from people in the pool. There was always somebody in the pool now. I never got a chance to use it in my preferred way anymore, buck naked. Damn shame, and pretty annoying. Swim shorts were for pussies.

Since the frantic energy in the house was about to make me lose my mind, I held my hands up and shouted, “Whoever the fuck has my kids, please tell them I’ll be back in a few hours.” I turned to leave as everyone stopped moving to stare at me. Rethinking my statement, I rotated back around and added, “Please watch Gibson with small objects, she still likes to taste…everything. And don’t let her bully you into staying up late or having ice cream for dinner, and make her brush her teeth, and watch her around Onnika. And…give her a kiss for me…Onnika too.”

My mom appeared at the top of the stairs, Onnika in her hands. She nodded at me, and I knew my kids would be well looked after. I immediately spun around and left. I needed beer. Obscene amounts of beer.

Maybe because I wanted a taste of the old days, when everyone knew me, loved me, and worshipped me, or maybe because I just didn’t know where else to go, I ended up going to Pete’s. The guys and I still stopped in on occasion, but it was usually for some promotional type thing. The bar was different now, which kind of irritated me. Different waitresses, different band…even a different sign. Where it used to only say PETE’S BAR in modestly sized neon, now it proudly proclaimed: PETE’S BAR, HOME OF THE D-BAGS. That second line was nearly as large as the first.

On a night when I wasn’t wishing to reminiscence about the old days, that would have been fine, but tonight, I felt like going back in time. Back when Kellan and I were equals, and I still thought I had a chance to stand out. I’d still had hope back then. Here, at this bar, I had been a god.

There was one thing about Pete’s that hadn’t changed since the good old days though. The bartender. Ragtag Rita still called the shots here, and she nearly dropped a full glass of beer when she saw me. “Holy shit! Do my eyes deceive me, or is the D-Bag of all D-Bags before me?”

Smiling, I sidled up to the bar and sat on a stool. “It is so fucking good to see you, Reets.” And thank you for not mentioning Kellan.

With a sultry grin that promised a good time if I asked nicely, she set the beer she’d just poured in front of me. Rita was older, like, probably my mom’s age, but I’d still do her, or I would have, before Anna. She had that I’m desperate to reclaim my youth vibe about her.

Leaning over the bar, giving me a glorious view of her cleavage, she murmured, “So, hot stuff, you here alone, or are the rest coming in with you?” By the gleam in her eye as she watched the front doors, I knew she was waiting for Kellan to walk through them.

I couldn’t escape him no matter where I went.

I started chugging the beer and didn’t stop until it was finished. With a mighty belch, I slammed the glass down on the bar and wiped my mouth. Fuck yes. That was exactly what I’d needed. “Left the fuckers at home, where they belong. Keep the beers comin’. I want to walk out of here barely able to hold my guts in.”

She raised a painted-on eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Get me drunk enough and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Shaking her head, she turned behind her to grab a bottle of Pendleton. “You need something a bit stronger than beer, babe.” She grabbed a glass, put a few chunks of ice in it, then poured the whiskey on top, well over the halfway point of the glass.

Yes, she was right, I did need more. And that was why I loved coming here. The people got me. “Thanks, Reets. You’re the best thing about this place, you know?”

She gave me a wink as I tilted the glass back. “Oh, honey, I’ve known that for years.”

As I took a large gulp of whiskey, I looked around the bar. Being Sunday, it was fairly empty. Just a few regulars who—I swear to God—came in every night, rain or shine. When they lifted their gazes from their drinks and saw me leaning back against the bar, they started approaching me. Then it was excited thumps on the back and shots all around. God, it was good to be home. I had no idea why I didn’t come back here more often.

While I caught up with old friends at a table near the stage, a group of sorority girls came in. I was buzzing my ass off by this point, and the familiar attraction hit me hard. Things were different now, but not different enough that I didn’t notice them and want to make them notice me. I was feeling a little invisible, and I needed some feminine encouragement to shake off that feeling. Nothing that Anna would get ticked about, just a bit of…worshipping was all I wanted.

I shifted my chair toward the girls’ table. “Hey, ladies!” I yelled. When they all twisted to look at me, I grabbed my cock and put on a smug smile. “See anything you like?”

They all gave me the look I loved to get from women. It was an expression of horror, disgust, and intrigue. If I was that brazen with my clothes on, what would I do with them off? That curiosity alone had scored me more chicks than I could count. But then their expressions changed. One by one, they glanced from me to the D-Bags shrine, then back to me. Once it clicked who I was, they started shrieking loud enough for every person in the bar to look at them.

“Oh my God! You’re in the band! You’re one of the D-Bags!”

They rushed over to me, faces alight with earnest interest. Slinking back in my chair, I casually raised a hand. “Yeah, I’m with the band.” The band of merry dream-killing assholes. I didn’t mention that though.

The girls circled around me like vultures settling in on their prey. Some kneeled to get down to my level, one made herself at home on my lap. The alcohol brimming through my veins really liked that.

While I soaked in the feminine attention, the girls started asking me questions. When what they were saying sank in, I found their presence less pleasant. “So, you’re around Kellan Kyle all the time…what is he like? Is he really that good looking? Does he ever…play around with other girls beside his wife? Could we get his phone number? Could you give him ours?” The girl on my lap dramatically let her head fall backward. “God that man is gorgeous. I would let him do absolutely anything he wanted to me…” She started running her hands over her breasts, and that was when I had enough. I shoved her off my lap, and she hit the floor with a thud.