“Cassie.” Shawn was waving at me from the front of the bus. “What the fuck are you doing? I’ve been calling your cell for the last thirty minutes. We need to get on the road like an hour ago.”

I’d switched off my cell.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and walked briskly to Shawn. He was already halfway into the bus. Goosebumps broke over my bare arms under the cold rushing from the air-conditioner.

“I thought you’d bailed on me,” Shawn drawled, pausing on the steps to welcome me.

“Sorry,” I repeated lamely, but my new colleague was now focused on Josh.

He extended his hand toward Shawn. “Josh MacBride. I’m Cassie’s husband.”

Shawn did a double-take. “So that’s true… I thought Cassie was making that up to keep me away.”

“That’s the truth, nothing but the truth.” Josh smiled at Shawn but his voice sounded to me like several hundred degrees below zero.

“Okay,” Shawn answered. He took the duffel and the guitar from Josh. “Say your goodbyes and we’ll be off.” He disappeared inside.

I climbed one step, which brought my eyes almost to Josh’s level. “So this is it.” Oh God, no crying, no crying, no crying. I pursed my lips and locked my jaw.

“Make the most of it, Cass.” His mouth caressed mine. It wasn’t enough but any more and I would come undone. “With some luck we’ll see each other in D.C. in three weeks and then next month here again to see Lucas.”

I started to turn around and climb the stairs. The strength of his grip on my wrist startled me. In a flash, his palms cupped my cheeks.

“I won’t let you get away, Cass. Not again. I made the mistake twice. I believed the worst of you. I didn’t fight for you.”

“It’s okay, Champ. It’s the past—”

“It’ll never be okay. You are worth fighting for. You are worth dying for. And you are certainly worth living for. I’ll go after anything or anyone standing between us like a fucking Rottweiler.”

He kissed me and it felt like he was stamping me with his love. My legs threatened to give way. He stood back and I climbed one step backwards. The automatic door shut in front of me.

I lifted my hand and waved at Josh. I must have looked like the poor kid who’d lost her mom in the mall. I heard whistles coming from the cabin of the bus but I didn’t give a damn.

My lips shaped the words I hadn’t said to Josh for so long. I didn’t want to say them out loud. Not because of the guys making fun of me, but because there were only mine and I didn’t want to share them with anybody but Josh.

I.

Love.

You.

Cassie

Toilet bowls are gross. Toilet bowls in the backroom of a small concert venue in downtown Wichita are GROSS, GROSS, GROSS. I forced my eyes to look away, pinched my cheeks and breathed out. Five loud times.

My stomach gradually started to settle down. A bit. Still, when I held my hand out, it was shaking. I had—what?—five minutes to pull myself together and get my butt on stage for the opening act. Tonight was my baptism of fire.

I rubbed my lips together, spun around and lifted the latch. Like a soldier heading into battle—or a prisoner on death row—I headed out of the restroom, down the corridor to the tiny backstage area. I walked into a cloud of smoke.

The Libs were all there except Shawn. One of the guys—the drummer—was stretched across a tattered sofa. He extended his arm toward me. “Wanna a puff before the big show?”

“No, thanks.” I’d never done drugs, not even pot, and I wasn’t going to start now. Even on the edge of a freakin’ meltdown.

“Give it a rest Pete. Blondie’s all prim and proper. Don’t lead her astray.”

I looked at the guy who’d just spoken. Geoff. A real asshole. I’d been on the bus with The Libs for two days but I’d already determined the lanky bassist with pantie-dropping doe eyes was a plague best avoided.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Geoff. But, don’t refer to me by my hair color.”

He whistled. “I love a girl with attitude.”

“Really, I thought you simply liked them loud.” Last night, I’d woken up to the screams of the girl he was making out with on the bunk above mine.

The guys laughed but Geoff didn’t. I guess he wasn’t that keen on girls who answered back after all.

“Ready, Cass?” Shawn made his entry. He was shorter than the rest of the band but he had that special spark the others lacked. His energy filled the small room. He was the one familiar thing I’d held on to for the last two days.

“Ready.” I swallowed hard. It was total bluff and Shawn’s half-smile told me he’d found me out.

“I’ll walk you to the stage if you want?”

I nodded and grabbed my guitar. I slid my hand in his, hoping he wouldn’t notice how damp it was. At the end of the corridor three steps led up to the stage. I prayed my legs wouldn’t give way beneath me.

“It’s a small venue, Cass. Not much bigger than The Turf.”

I nodded again because if I opened my mouth now, I’d croak.

“You’re shit scared, are you?”

Another nod.

Shawn’s hand reached for my earlobe. He pinched it gently.

“What was that for?” I mumbled.

“It’s my trick to help with stage fright.” He did another gentle earlobe squeeze. “Does it help?”

With the noise of the audience bursting throughout the room, I could still hear my heart beat pounding in my chest and my stomach and my head.

“No.”

“Put on your guitar strap.” I obeyed, but Shawn was now watching me intently. If I wasn’t one inch away from losing it, I’d be blushing hard or telling the guy to stare elsewhere.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered to me. I took a raspy breath. “You’ve got something very special, babe. None of those guys have it.” He nodded toward the backroom. “You make the stage yours from the second you step onto it. So don’t be scared out there because that’s where you’re meant to be.”

“I don’t—I’m not,” I stammered.

“It’s like going home, Cass.” He climbed two steps and held out his hand to me.

I stared at it for what felt like a day. I swallowed hard again and something shifted within me. I was burning to get out there. Because out there was the only place I wasn’t scared of anything.

I took Shawn’s hand.

Josh

“It’s completely last minute, but can you make it?”

Andrew Estevez’s question startled me. My mind had flown back to Kansas City and Cassie’s ’I love you.’ Two weeks ago.

“Joshua?” The Senator put his glass of mineral water back on the table. At the end of my second week, he’d taken me out for an early dinner. He didn’t do that for every junior staff member.

“Yes, Sir. My apologies. I appreciate your offer.” Still, I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The sudden European trip overlapped the weekend Cassie was supposed to visit me. The weekend we were supposed to go house-hunting.

“Joshua?” Peter Swift, the Deputy Chief of Staff, made sure my hesitation had been duly noted. The guy had to have been gutted he wasn’t the only one offered the opportunity. He’d been Estevez’s pet since graduation from Harvard five years ago.

“Of course, I’ll be there. I’m honored you’re asking me to join you.”

Senator Estevez was a member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. The primary reason I’d been asked to join his staff was my Oxford Rhodes Scholarship and my Masters in Foreign Service from Georgetown. Still, being asked to come with him was a big deal.

“Good. It’s settled then. I’ll be speaking at The Oxford Union. I want you to give me the inside track on what to expect.” Senator Estevez winked and took another bite of his cheeseburger. We were at The Bite, a joint Downtown where prominent D.C. people pretended to slum it. “And please, Josh, call me Andy.”

“Thank you, Andy.” I finished my own burger, which tasted nothing like the ones I grilled back at Mr. Guidi’s. Cassie would be in Seattle tonight. I hoped she was enjoying the cross-country tour. I only wished I could be with her.