Owen winced. Did the two of them really need to pick a fight tonight? Surely they could find it in themselves to put aside their differences on Christmas Eve.

“I didn’t have to fucking know the kid, Adam. She has leukemia. Her family has no insurance, no jobs, no money to pay for her chemotherapy. A few hours out of our busy schedules gives her a chance to see her sixth birthday. Do you always have to be such a selfish prick?”

“I had absolutely no problem with doing the benefit concert. It’s not like I have better plans for Christmas anyway and believe it or fucking not, I do care. But you sitting there looking like your dog just died after you made the decision to do the concert in the first place is pissing me off. I’m not gonna lie,” Adam said.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Shad grumbled.

“All I want for Christmas is a pair of ball gags to shut you both up,” Gabe said and lifted his book until all that was visible of his head was his foot-high red and black mohawk. “I’m trying to concentrate over here.”

“Ball gags?” Kelly nodded. “I can probably fulfill that wish.” He started to wrap the rope garland in long loops from hand to elbow. Owen knew Kelly could produce two ball gags in a matter of minutes. He also knew exactly where Kelly kept his secret stash of kinky implements if he ever felt the need to borrow something. Recently Kelly had taken up a new hobby—tying knots. It was a perfectly innocent hobby for most people, but not so much for Kelly.

Carefully untangling a strand of lights, Owen pretended to be intensely interested in their drummer, Gabe, to keep attention off Kelly, who was fashioning a loose noose out of one end of the garland. The dragon tattoos on the shaven parts of Gabe’s scalp stood in complete contradiction to the colossal, decidedly boring, book in his hands. “What are you reading about?” Owen asked, as if he didn’t already know he didn’t give a shit.

Gabe pushed his reading glasses up his nose and grinned deviously. “Friction.”

“And how to reduce it with proper lubrication?” Owen asked. Gabe was the only person he knew who tried to apply the laws of physics to sex.

“You don’t want to reduce the friction too much,” Gabe said. “You want it slick and wet, but not too juicy.”

“I disagree,” Shade said with a grin. “The juicier, the better.” At least his sulking had diminished.

“Yeah,” Kelly agreed. “I like it dripping wet so I can lick it clean.”

“The conversation on this bus always turns to pussy,” Adam said.

“There’s nothing better to talk about, is there?” Owen asked.

“No,” his band mates said in unison. They all laughed at the one thing they always agreed on.

“And there’s definitely nothing better to think about,” Gabe said, “so you all need to shut up. I’m thinking.”

“Who needs this worse, Owen?” Kelly said. “Shade or Gabe?” He was now prepared to act on his plan.

“Personally, I think they both need it,” Owen said.

“Need what?” Shade asked.

“Looks like Shade volunteered to be first.”

“First at what?”

Kelly moved fast—like ninja—and Owen stepped back out of his way, awaiting his opening to assist him.

Shade was bigger than Kelly, but Kelly had the element of surprise on his side. Before Shade could even react to Kelly jumping on him, Kelly had the garland of red rope around Shade’s forearms, binding them together from wrists to elbows. Shade might have been able to break free of the garland given time, but the instant Kelly stepped away, Owen went after him with strands of lights, wrapping several strands around Shade’s upper arms and chest, crisscrossed in a web of unbreakable art. Kelly had taught Owen all he knew about shibari and Owen had taught Kelly all he knew about calf-roping. Their combination of skill, teamwork and speed ensured that Shade wasn’t going anywhere until they decided to free his arms.

As was common for Shade, once he got over his recent, perpetual dour mood—his divorce was to blame—he was happy to join in on their fun and play along. He laughed as a second strand of lights was used to secure him to the chair around the waist. He was in danger of hyperventilating with laughter when Kelly found some sparkly tinsel in the sack and wrapped it around his neck several times.

“Now you have no choice but to be in the Christmas spirit,” Owen said. “No more bah humbug out of you.”

Chuckling at the spectacle the coolest member of the band made trussed up like an abomination of a Christmas tree, Adam added to the festivities by strumming Christmas carols on his guitar. “On the first day of Christmas my buddies gave to me, decorations on a Shade tree.”

“Shut up,” Shade yelled, but he was snickering too intermittently for anyone to take him seriously.

Kelly found a gaudy tree topper in the sack. Before he could add it to their tree, Gabe snatched the tinsel-trimmed star out of Kelly’s hand and set it on the pinnacle of their Shade tree. Gabe wrapped the light cord under Shade’s chin and then around the star to hold it somewhat upright atop Shade’s head. Apparently, Gabe had given up on reading his The Physics of Fucking and Friction book or whatever it was called. None of them could resist messing with Shade. He worked so hard at being cool onstage and in public. Sometimes they had to remind him that he could still act like a kid and have some stupid fun when there wasn’t anyone important watching.

Gabe found a package of blue glass bulbs in Owen’s sack of Christmas cheer and dangled them from the strand of lights near Shade’s crotch.

“You did not just give me blue balls, Force,” Shade said with the deep, commanding voice that made their road crew scramble for their lives.

Owen laughed.

Adam added to his song, “On the second day of Christmas my buddies gave to me, two blue balls and decorations on a Shade tree.”

“I will give you blue balls when I punch you in them,” Shade said.

“You shouldn’t threaten people when you can’t fight back,” Adam said.

“Plug him in,” Owen said, hoping Shade and Adam didn’t actually get into more than a pissing contest.

Kelly located the power cord and plugged it into the outlet behind his chair. Gabe plugged the star into the end of one of the light strands.

When the multicolored lights began to flash and cast brilliant specks of lights all over their tattooed, buffed-out, sunglasses-wearing lead singer, they all burst out laughing. Owen grabbed his cellphone out of his pocket. “Okay, this is going on Facebook.”

“Don’t you dare,” Shade said, his smile fading and mouth opening in exasperation.

Oh, Owen dared. He even gave the candid picture a caption—All Dressed for Christmas with No Place to Go.

“Hey, guys?” their driver, Tex, called from the front of the bus. “We’re going to have to pull over soon. The snow is coming down so heavily I can’t see the road. We better park until it lets up or a snowplow blows through.”

Snow! Oh yes. A perfect addition to Shade’s festive attire.

“Sweet,” Owen said, grinning at Kelly who quickly caught on to his newest nefarious plan.

“Shade tied down,” Kelly said.

“Plus snow,” Owen said.

“Equals projectile fun,” Gabe said.

“You guys wouldn’t fucking dare,” Shade said, trying to lean out of the chair, but finding that while he’d been tethered mostly by complacency at first, he now had no choice but to stay put.

Owen grinned and straightened his Santa hat. “Wouldn’t we?”

Lindsey squinted at the dark road ahead. The wipers scraped rhythmically across her field of vision to keep the thick snow at bay, but she was fixated on the glowing red taillights of her favorite band’s tour bus. Storm or no storm, she wasn’t giving up now. It had been a stroke of luck that Sole Regret’s bus had turned out in front of her car as she pulled out of the auditorium after the benefit concert. Instead of taking the proper road toward home, she had continued following them eastward out of town, through the wilderness and up into the mountains. It was pitch black out here in the middle of nowhere and what had started out as a few flurries was now becoming a blizzard.