One of his discarded songs is only one stanza, but it fills my head and keeps going with new words of my own. I grab one of Michael’s chewed-up pens and hunker over the paper, writing furiously. When I’m done Michael snatches it up.

I feel strangely nervous. I tap the pen against my leg and watch as Michael’s head begins to bop back and forth and a grin stretches across his face.

“Dude, this is hot.”

I shrug. “I don’t want credit for that. Just a one-time thing, mate.” The lyrics hit way too close to home. I can’t have anyone knowing I penned it.

“What else you got?” Michael asks.

I shake my head and lie. “Nothing.”

“Yo, Raj! Bennett! Getcha asses in here and listen to this. I think we got a winner.”

We finally get to visit the studio and learn the ropes. I’ve no clue if we’ll get a recording contract, since it’s so competitive, but our manager is frat brothers with some bigwig’s son, so he says he’s got an “in.” We’ll see.

We’ve decided to record the single I mostly wrote, but Michael is more than glad to take credit.

We’re taken into a room where a girl with straight, honey-blond hair is setting up mics and checking the sound. She’s incredibly cute and has a kind contentedness in her aura that stabs at my lungs. She looks up and beams when we walk in.

“Hey, guys! You’re right on time. I’ll bring you some waters, and you can let me know if you need anything else. I’m Anna Malone, by the way.”

The ground seems to rock under my feet. Bloody hell . . . why does the world hate me? Why?

She shakes the other guys’ hands, and when she gets to me her aura flares bright orange with a red streak. Her eyes search every feature of my face and then she blushes. I quickly let her hand go and stuff mine in my pocket, looking away.

This is fantastic. Just what I need.

She leaves us and Raj punches my stomach. “She wants you, dude.”

Michael raises his chin. “Told you you’d be getting all the ass you want here.”

I shake my head. “I’d rather not mix business and pleasure.”

“For real, though.” Bennett snorts, and musses his blue hair. “We don’t need any Kai stalkers up in this studio.”

“Exactly,” I mutter.

Anna, the studio girl, ends up being one of those girls with more male friends than female. She’s all natural with a great sense of humor. She’s the type of chick you don’t mind hanging around. Well, the other blokes don’t mind, but I keep my distance. It becomes harder when she begins spending more and more time with us, coming to frequent practices and ending up at the same clubs. Raj has a definite thing for her, and though she flirts innocently back at him, it’s me she’s got it for, no matter how I avoid her.

It’d be easier if she weren’t so bloody nice. Or if I didn’t have to see her nearly every day. Or if she didn’t remind me in so many small ways of my Anna. Or if I weren’t craving sex like a deranged mad dog.

Seriously. I keep hoping it will become less difficult to deny my body, but it hasn’t. It’s a constant ache. It would be so easy to give in. To give myself release with the dozens of willing girls who light up with lust for me.

And then I remember how I felt last year when I’d slept with all those women after coming back from our road trip. I’d been riddled with guilt and self-disgust. I never want to feel that way again. This is the first time I’ve ever challenged myself, and I need to win this.

If Kope can bloody well fight his temptations, so can I.

After six months, I have to admit, I’m so damned proud of myself that I want to shout it to the world: I haven’t shagged in six months!

On second thought, I don’t think anyone would be that impressed. Except Anna. And she’s the only one I truly want to tell. I almost ring her so many times, especially when our first single hit local airwaves and we were invited back to Atlanta for a signing.

I love you. I only want you.

And then an image of Belial’s face fills my mind and I’m reminded of all the reasons why I can’t have her. A pang of dreadful fear pierces me at the thought that Anna might be over me. I can’t hold it against her if she stops loving me, but I will never stop loving her.

My plan to stay away is ruined when Anna shows at the Atlanta record store. I should have known Jay would hear about it and tell her. The moment I sense her, I attempt to rapidly build a fortress of stone around my heart, shoving my emotions deep within the keep. But her brown eyes penetrate my barriers, as always, and I can’t help but notice she’s . . . changed. Intricate piercings line her ears. A short skirt shows off her sexy legs. Her look no longer screams innocence. Except those passionate eyes.

I’m filled with familiar rage, at everything. My anger and sarcasm rain down on Anna. The more she shows love and desperation, the harder I push her away.

I don’t care, I tell myself. She shouldn’t have come. She knows as well as I do. This is a mistake.

When we leave, she sees me being picked up by Marissa’s driver. We’re only having dinner tonight, no new nieces to train, thankfully, but Anna doesn’t know that. I see the heartbreak in her eyes as she’s reminded once again of all the reasons she shouldn’t love me.

We are cursed. And my fortress is useless against her. I return to L.A. emptier and more broken than ever.

It’s Friday when Anna Malone approaches me at the studio, holding her hands together in front of herself, her aura both excited and nervous.

“Hey, Kai. Um, I’m having people over at my apartment tomorrow night. Just a small party. . . .” She bites her lip and her eyes go round. She really is quite attractive.

I flip through different excuses I can use, but I know the other band members will expect me to be there.

“Sorry, but I’m visiting an old mate of mine in Santa Barbara this weekend.”

“Oh!” She smiles, but disappointment fogs her aura. “No problem. Hope you have fun.”

“Yeah, you as well.”

Now I just have to ring Blake and let him know. He’s been trying to get me to visit for months, but I haven’t wanted him to know I’m not working. Well, no better time than now.

“Dude. Brah. Compadre. Cut the shit.” Blake and I are sitting on bar stools under a tiki hut on a crowded beach where I have gently rejected the advances of three girls in the past hour. Blake is ogling me in disbelief. I continuously search the skies for whisperers.

“Don’t make a big deal of this,” I say.

His eyes drop to my glass of water then rise to my face. “I will make a big deal of it, because it is a big deal. You don’t need to do this, man. You got nothin’ to prove.”

“I’ve got plenty to prove. To myself.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head. I didn’t expect him to understand.

A blond bombshell saunters up to us with mile-long legs and mini black shorts. She has a posse of manicured beauties following behind her. Blake sees me looking over his shoulder and turns.

“Ah, hey, baby!” he says. The blonde smiles and stands between his legs, wrapping her flyaway arms around his neck and kissing him.

She’s magazine material. A few men glance at Blake with envy.

“How’s my man?” the girl asks, leaning her forehead against Blake’s.

“Helluva lot better now that you’re here.”

She turns to me and blinks with big eyelashes.

“Oh, hey,” Blake says. “This is my boy from way back, Kaidan. This is my girlfriend, Michelle, and her J-Pack of friends, Jessica, Jamie, and Jen.”

Girlfriend? Apparently I’m not the only one with secrets.

We shake hands, and I say, “Nice to meet you, Michelle.”

Her eyes widen at my accent, and her friends move forward, all their eyes on me, auras zinging with red. I shake each of the J-Packs’ hands and sit back.

“Hey now,” Blake says when Michelle has stared at me a beat too long. “Don’t be looking at him. He’s gay.”