“What’ll you do?” asked Nate, lounging against the door frame.

I rose to my feet, dusting off the knees of my black pants. “I’ll work something out.”

Nate gave me a look and I returned it as calmly as I could. The next thing to come out of his mouth had better not be pity. My day had been crappy enough. With great determination, I gave him a smile. “So, where are you guys off to?”

“Party at David and Ev’s,” Lauren answered from inside my room. “You should come with us.”

Ev, Nate’s sister and Lauren’s former roomie, had married David Ferris, premier rock god and lead guitarist for the band Stage Dive, a few months ago. Long story. I was still trying to get my head around it, frankly. One minute, she’d been the nice blonde girl next door who went to the same college as Lizzy and made killer coffee at Ruby’s Café. The next, our apartment block had been surrounded by paparazzi. Skye had given interviews on the front step—not that she’d known anything. I’d snuck out the back.

Mostly, my relationship with Ev had involved saying hi when we’d passed on the stairs, back when she used to live here, and with me hitting Ruby’s Café every morning for a big-ass coffee on my way to work. We’d always been friendly. But I wouldn’t say we were friends exactly. Given Lauren’s penchant for borrowing my clothes, I knew her much better.

“She should come, right, Nate?”

Nate grunted his affirmation. Either that or his disinterest. With him it was kind of hard to tell.

“That’s okay,” I demurred. Debris lined the walls where the couch and cabinet had stood; all of the collected crap Skye had left behind. “I had a new book to read, but I should probably get busy cleaning. Guess we hadn’t dusted under the furniture for a while. At least I won’t have much to move when the time comes.”

“Come with us.”

“Lauren, I wasn’t invited,” I said.

“Neither are we half the time,” said Nate.

“They love us! Of course they want us there.” Lauren reemerged from my room and gave her boyfriend the stink eye. She looked better in the black vintage jacket than I ever would, a fact that I chose not to secretly hate her for. If that didn’t earn me points into heaven then nothing would. Maybe I’d give it to her as a good-bye present before I left.

“Come on, Anne,” she said. “Ev won’t mind.”

“Good to go?” Nate jiggled his car keys impatiently.

Hanging with rock stars didn’t seem the appropriate response to learning you’d soon be out on the street. Maybe one day when I was at my sparkling, buffed-up best I could strut on by and say hi. That day was not today. Mostly I felt tired, defeated. Given I’d been feeling that way since I turned sixteen, it wasn’t the strongest of excuses. Lauren didn’t need to know that, however.

“Thanks, guys,” I said. “But I only just got home.”

“Um, honey, your home kind of sucks ass right now,” said Lauren, taking in my dust bunnies and lack of décor with a sweeping glance. “Besides, it’s Friday night. Who sits at home on a Friday night? You wearing your work gear or jumping into jeans? I’d suggest the jeans.”

“Lauren…”

“Don’t.”

“But–”

“No.” Lauren grasped my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “You have been fucked over by a friend. I have no words to tell you how furious that makes me. You’re coming with us. Hide in a corner all night if you want. But you’re not sitting here alone dwelling on that thieving ho. You know I never did like her.”

Stupidly, I did. Or had. Whatever.

“Didn’t I say that, Nate?”

Nate shrugged and jangled his keys some more.

“Go. Get ready.” Lauren gave me a push in the general direction of my bedroom.

In my current situation, this might be my only opportunity to meet David Ferris. Ev still showed up here now and then, but I’d never seen him, despite occasionally “hanging out” on the steps just in case. He wasn’t my absolute favorite out of the four members of Stage Dive. That honor was reserved for the drummer, Mal Ericson. A few years ago, I’d crushed on him something hard. But still … the David Ferris. For the chance to meet even just one of them, I had to go. A few years ago, I’d had a bit of a thing for the band. Nothing to do with their being buff rock gods. No, I was a musical purist.

“Alright, give me ten minutes.” It was the absolute minimum time frame within which I could mentally, if not physically, prepare myself to face the rich and famous. Fortunately, my care factor was now dangerously close to fuck-it levels. Tonight would probably be the best time to meet Mr. Ferris. I might actually manage to keep my cool and not be an awestruck waste of space.

“Five minutes,” said Nate. “The game will be starting.”

“Would you relax?” asked Lauren.

“No.” The man made a snapping sound and Lauren giggled. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to know. The walls here were disgustingly thin so Lauren and Nate’s nocturnal mating habits weren’t much of a secret. Happily I was usually at work during the day. Those hours were a mystery to me, and not one that I pondered.

Oh, alright. Occasionally I pondered because I hadn’t gotten anything non-self-induced in a while. Also, apparently I had some repressed voyeuristic tendencies in need of addressing.

Was I really up to a night of watching couples rubbing against one another?

I could call Reece, though he’d said he had a date tonight. Of course, he always had a date. Reece was perfect in every way apart from his man-whore tendencies. My best guy friend liked to spread his love around, to put it mildly. He seemed to be on a conjugal-related first-name basis with the better part of the straight Portland female population aged eighteen to forty-eight. Everyone except me, basically.

Which was fine.

There was nothing wrong with just being friends. Though someday I truly believed we’d make a great couple. He was just so easy to be around. With everything we had in common, we could go the distance. In the meantime, I was content to wait, do my own thing. Not that lately I’d been doing anything or anyone, but you get what I mean.

Reece would listen to me whine about Skye. He’d probably even cancel his date, come over, and keep me company while I moped. He would, however, definitely say “I told you so.” When he’d found out I’d been covering for her, he hadn’t been happy. He’d outright accused her of using me. Turned out he’d been 110 percent right on that score.

The wound, however, was too raw to be prodded and poked. So … no Reece. In all likelihood, Lizzy would give me the exact same ass kicking Reece had. Neither had been a fan of the save Skye plan. Decision made. I’d go to the party and have fun before my world turned to shit.

Excellent. I could do this.

CHAPTER TWO

I couldn’t do this.

David and Ev lived in a luxury condo in the Pearl District. The place was sprawling, taking up half the top floor of a beautiful old brown brick building. It must have been surreal for Ev, going from our poky, drafty, thin-walled building to this sort of splendor. It must have been awesome. The old apartment building sat on the edge of downtown, close to the university, but David and Ev lived smack-dab in the middle of the very cool and expensive Pearl District.

Happily, Ev seemed delighted to see me. One potentially awkward moment negated. Mr. Ev, the rock star, gave me a chin tip in greeting while I did my best not to stare. I itched to ask him to sign something. My forehead would do.

“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” said Ev. “There are plenty of drinks and pizza should be here soon.”

“Thanks.”

“You live next to Lauren and Nate?” asked David, speaking for the first time. Good lord, his dark hair and sculpted face were breathtaking. People shouldn’t be so greedy; was it not enough that he was insanely talented?