“Damn it,” I grumped. I quickly read the most recent one.

Douche Face: Please answer the phone. I love you. I need to know you are okay.

Snapping the phone shut, I stowed it in my back pocket and watched Yellow Canon Blitz—who fucking comes up with these band names?—put on a hell of a show.

Hours later, Cornered Cannibal were minutes away from taking the stage. Lili returned with three more beers, and we busted out another spliff.

Devon ended up coming out with no makeup, his glorious beauty blazing for the world to see. We were far enough away from the stage that it should’ve been hard to tell, but he was shining with something more than his usual talent. He looked freer, almost at peace.

He performed a solo that lasted nine minutes and put Budokan to shame. I wasn’t the only one weeping for him. The whole place exploded when he finished. Glancing at my two best friends, I saw their eyes shimmering, too.

Wow, Lili mouthed at me when our eyes met.

Too fucking right.

For the first time in a while, the three of us got to see Our Boys just like everyone else saw them. Buzzing with beer, we cried out all the words to every song they played.

In the end, we had a surprise coming. Connor pulled out a violin, a few roadies strapped on instruments, and they ended the show with “Kashmir.”

Phil sang it to rival Devon’s solo.

I was beyond touched…yet not quite touched enough.

When Alys, Lili, and me finally arrived back at the bus, most of the other bands, including Cornered Cannibal, had headed out for the next venue.

Phil was leaning against the bus, arms folded across his chest. When he spotted us through the darkness, his body relaxed. Freshly showered, dressed in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, he looked good enough to eat.

“Kenna—” He stopped when he saw the look in Lili’s eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ think about it, Pygmy. I’ll fuckin’ toss your ass back to Colombia.”

Lili stomped onto the bus, and Alys followed, glaring furiously at him. He glared right back.

But when he turned to face me once more, his eyes softened. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I am. Really sorry. I should’ve told you, and I had every intention of doin’ so. I went to call you, and my phone was missin’. It ain’t right. I know. I should’ve found you and let you know—”

“You never should have even considered going,” I spit.

“I told her I didn’t want to. I swear to fuckin’ God. But she guilt-tripped me into it. I tore her a new one over the shit she said to you—”

“So what? You still went. Now, I’m a fucking joke to the whole world. ‘Baby Girl put out to pasture as gorgeous European flame returns, fueling the ever-lasting feud between Deveraux and GianFranco.’ Pfft! No, thank you. God, when my father gets wind of it—”

“He ain’t gonna believe it! He knows what we have between us, which is more than what I can say for you at the moment!”

“Seriously? I know what we had, Phil. It was amazing. You wrecked it by being guilt-tripped by that woman. What if she wanted to fuck you for old times’ sake? Would she have guilt-tripped the pants off of you?”

His face flushed, and my jaw dropped.

“Holy shit! Did she proposition you?”

He glared at me but nodded curtly. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Even after you telling her you were so in love with me?”

“I am so in love with you, Kenna. Quit talkin’ like it’s past tense.”

Shrugging, I made my way toward the steps, but he moved to block me.

“Why are you talkin’ in past tense?” he asked quietly, a hint of panic in his voice. “We ain’t over. We ain’t ever gonna be over.”

“My trust in you is at an all-time low. You put our relationship in that situation, not me.”

“Can you honestly fuckin’ believe that I’d sneak around behind your back?”

“You did!”

“I didn’t fuckin’ touch her! And when she suggested that I should, I fuckin’ laughed in her face! You are the last woman I’ll ever be with. You’re the only one who gets to touch me, kiss me, hold me—”

I held up my hand, not willing to be assaulted with those sort of intimate images. I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook for what he’d done.

“I’m tired. I’m filthy. I’m not talking about this anymore tonight. I’m too angry, and I just need to cool off and think. I’m done, Phil. Okay?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched with irritation, but he backed down. “Okay.”

The atmosphere on the bus was no better. Frigid and quiet, it was nothing like it usually was after a show. Jason and Sheri sat, watching TV, having a few beers. Lili and Lewis were huddled together, talking in hushed tones. Connor must have already retreated to his foxhole. Thoughts of crusty socks filled my head, and mentally, I gagged. Flipper and Viv were nowhere to be seen, but I heard some grunting behind their locked foxhole.

I headed straight to The Attic for my pajamas and then back down to the bathroom where I took a cold shower. The ladder up to Phil and my space creaked, and I knew he had gone to bed, so he’d be waiting there for me.

He’d be waiting there all night.

Instead of making my way up, I climbed into the foxhole above Connor’s, getting a startled look from Jason for my efforts.

As quietly as I could, I slid the door shut and locked it. The bus fired up, and a few minutes later, I could feel the sway as we headed out onto the road. The rocking soon lulled me to sleep.

Sometime later, the sound of my foxhole panel being punched in awoke me and startled a hair-raising scream out of me. Lock busted, Phil slammed it open, a look of absolute fury upon his gorgeous face.

“What the fuck?”

“Fuck, Phil! Was that fucking necessary?” I shouted.

“Too fuckin’ right it was necessary!” he shouted back.

“Shut the fuck up!” X yelled from a few bunks over.

Phil shoved a finger in my face. “Knock this shit off, Kenna. Get your shit and come to bed—”

“I am in bed!” I hissed.

With his chest heaving, his eyes looked bright in the dimmed corridor light. “Please. Will you come to our bed now? You’ve made your point.”

“Apparently, I haven’t. If you actually think—”

“Seriously.” Connor’s voice emerged from his foxhole below as he slid his panel back. “Some of us are trying to sleep here. Can this shit wait until the morning?”

“No, it can’t,” hissed Phil.

“Dude, you fucked up. Let her have some space, okay?”

“Fuck you!” shouted Phil, looking down, incredulous.

“No, man! Fuck you! Did you honestly think she’d take you going out with your ex well? I know you ain’t stupid, so why you actually thought she’d roll over and take this is beyond any of us.”

Flicking at the broken lock, I wiggled the panel, finding it still worked. “Good night, Phil,” I said firmly, pulling it into its shut position.

Phil slammed it open again.

Connor punched him in the nuts, and Phil dropped like a wet sack. Down the corridor, Lili’s evil laughter filled the space. Peeking out, I saw her dark head duck back into her and Lewis’s foxhole.

Phil moaned. “You…bastard.” Cupping his groin, he rolled onto his back as he tried to catch his breath.

“Good night, Phil,” I repeated before sliding the panel shut.

Sleep was a bitch. Nothing felt right, and when I finally made the decision to get up, I was miserable. I wanted to crawl into Phil’s lap and let him hold me. We’d always been able to talk shit out, and we’d always had complete faith and trust in one another. I wanted to feel like that with him again.

By the look on his haggard face as I walked into the living room area, he felt the same, too. My guess was that sleep had completely eluded him, considering those dark circles beneath his eyes.