Oh God, I see it on his face and I don’t want to.

I stare at him with wounded and stricken eyes. “You came here to tell me we’re over, didn’t you?”

He looks at me, those gentle green eyes plunging into my heart like a knife. “Four days ago I would have left with you. It’s the only thing I wanted. But too much has happened. I’m not sure anymore about anything. I didn’t come here to leave with you tonight. I’m not going on this tour even though it’s the last tour for the band and Linda wants me there. We need to step back from each other. I need to figure out if I can ever be who you need me to be. You need to figure out, Kaley, if you want me because you love me or because you hate Alan.”

*  *  *

I sit on the patio chair through the night, turning over and over again in my head the last four days and trying to make sense of them. Mom. Alan. Bobby. Me. I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know where I’m going.

Light spreads across the sky. Dawn. A new day. New possibilities, as Grandpa Jack would say. I don’t see any possibilities. Or rather, not ones I want to see.

I’ve destroyed my world. Completely. Every part like tiny specks of sand on the ground at my feet, too small to scoop up. I am lost in a sandstorm of too quickly coming changes, and I can’t stop it. I am being dragged away from everything I have ever known.

Whether I want to be or not.

Alone.

With a stranger.

Alan.

CHAPTER 25

Six days later

The car drives out onto the tarmac and then stops. I shift my gaze to look out the window. Oh crap, people everywhere. The band. Families. Tour crew and press. This should be fun. Time for warped family adventure to begin.

The door is opened and I turn my gaze back to Alan. Jeez, can the guy look any more uptight? He wanted us here, none of us wanted to leave Mom, and he doesn’t haven’t the first clue what to do with us.

Waiting, Alan. Say something already or do you plan to keep us in the car all day? This is freaking ridiculous.

He removes his glasses. “Listen, there is press out there. I want you to exit the car, go directly onto the plane and say not one word to anyone.”

Krystal nods.

I roll my eyes.

My dad puts his sunglasses back on and gestures me out first. The cameras explode. There are shouted questions from every direction. I move quickly toward the stairs and trot up into the plane.

As I step into the cabin, there’s a noticeable hush. Fuck, the flight attendant looks like her eyes are about to pop out of her head. Yep, it’s true. I look just like him. It’s not tabloid bullshit or Photoshop. Get over it.

I wait impatiently for my siblings, trying not to make eye contact with anyone—especially Linda who is not so subtly glaring at me from her seat—and really wish I could figure out a way to be invisible.

I turn toward the steps as Krystal appears and closes in on me.

She frowns. “Thanks a lot for waiting for me. What are we supposed to do now?”

I shrug, since I really don’t know. Probably hold up here for Alan and the twins. Fuck, I wish they’d hurry. Standing in the front of the plane is like being on display.

Through the open door I hear more rapidly flashing camera sounds and heavy footsteps on the stairs. First Eric appears. Then my dad carrying Ethan.

My heart clenches at the sight of my brother. Ethan is so shy and sensitive. He looks absolutely miserable. I wonder if Alan gets that.

Alan motions me and Krystal to sit in the first row.

“This is Cuddy, the tour manager,” he explains. “He’ll make sure the flight crew gets you whatever you need.” He points to the hulking figure standing twenty rows away. “Back there is Nick Day, the production manager. That’s as far back in the plane as you’re allowed to go. You’re not allowed to mix with the road crew. I’m going to sleep until we land in Mumbai. Behave yourselves.”

I gape as he sets Ethan and Eric alone across the aisle from us. Really, Alan? You’re just going to dump them here in the front of the plane? No. No. No. Fuck that. This shit stops now. The five days of family holiday outside London were bad enough. I’m taking charge. I’m getting us kids bounced from this tour and back to California with Mom.

I turn in my seat, arms lying across the top, staring at Alan’s departing figure, and rummage for something to say that will piss him off. Heavy stares from all directions fix on me.

Nope, I don’t care if you stare.

What should I say?

Ah, perfect.

“Daddy, are we there yet? I’m bored.”

Alan stops and turns back toward the front of the plane.

He meets me stare for stare.

“You speak to me in that sarcastic tone of voice again and this trip is going to get real rough real fast.”

Good.

He’s irritated.

I smile.

“Sure, Pop. I just have one question, though. Why did you drag us along on the Smash the Family tour? You should have just left me home with Mom. At least she’s not an asshole.”

Direct hit. He looks like his head is about to explode. Come on, Alan, come through for me. Give up and send us home.

“Go ahead, Kaley. Keep it up. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

He’s tough.

I’ll give him that.

I arch a brow—I am your daughter—and this girl doesn’t back down for the people she cares about.

“Fine, I’ll sit here and tweet.” Oh, that definitely has him going. I smile sweetly. “Come on, Pop. Lighten up. Admit it, that was a little funny.”

To my shock, he turns around and continues to his seat.

I drop back down into a sitting position.

Crap, that didn’t go the way I expected.

The door is closed. The steps are pulled back. The engines turn on and a few minutes later I am in the air going to Mumbai whether I want to or not.

Now what?

Krystal tugs on my arm. “Stop it. Stop bullying Dad.”

I look at her. “What? Leave me alone, Krystal. Don’t you have one of your math nerd packs to work on?”

Her eyes burn into me bright with condemnation. “You’re being awful. You’re hurting Dad. You’re embarrassing yourself. Do you know that?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m trying to get him to send us home. The twins are miserable. This is just plain wrong.”

“Don’t pretend you’re trying to do something for us. You want to go home because Bobby dumped you and you blame Dad and think he’s”—she makes dramatic air quotes—“ruining your life.”

“Don’t call him Dad. I’ve already told you that.”

“I’ll call him what I want,” Krystal snaps and I look away.

A moment later, Krystal grabs her things, unbuckles, and disappears toward the back of the plane. I struggle not to cry. Great, Kaley, great. Now you’ve got Krystal against you and she’s the closest thing to a friend you’ve got here.

I pull my legs up in front of me, heels on the edge of the seat, and lay my cheek on my knees. I just want to go home. Why doesn’t anyone get that?

For a while I watch the twins playing their handheld video devices. They’re so cute. I take my camera from my bag and debate whether to sneak a picture or take the games away. They’ve been on those darn things all day and Mom wouldn’t like it.

I let the twins continue to play, remembering the hot guy two rows behind me I spotted when I boarded the plane. Maybe I can get a picture without getting busted by Alan and having my camera taken away. That would make this trip unbearable.

I carefully lean around my seat and study that fine specimen through the viewfinder. Definitely hot. Dark hair. Gray eyes. Always a winning combination. Incredible physique.

Who is he and what does he do on the tour?

I quickly snap pictures. The guy next my Adonis isn’t bad either. Sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. Shoulders; definitely impressive.