Alarms go off in my brain. Fuck. I don’t like where this conversation is leading. “What do you mean, Tyke? What are you not telling me?”

Tyke takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m thinking of leaving the band.”

“WHAT?!” My heart bangs against my ribs. I can’t believe what I’m fucking hearing. “What the fuck do you mean? Wha—I don’t…I mean…Damn it! Why?”

He frowns. “I’m ready to branch out and do my own thing for a while. I want to be able to perform the music that I write, the exact way I envision it in my mind.”

I throw my hands up. “You can do that right now. Running off and starting over isn’t the answer.”

He tilts his head. “It is, Trip. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while now, and this is the perfect time to branch out on my own. I’m not saying I’ll leave the band forever. I just need a break, like the rest of you, only my break from Black Falcon won’t be because of a woman.”

Every fiber in my body buzzes with emotion, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like crying. “I’m begging you to not do this. It will ruin everything.”

He places his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all going to work out. You’ll see. Thousands of bass players will line up to fill in for me. You guys won’t even miss a beat.”

I stare into my brother’s eyes and see the conviction in them. He wants to do this. Who am I to deny him of his new dream? Nothing lasts forever, and I guess even identical twins need their own space.

I sigh. “When do you plan on telling the others?”

His lips pull into a tight frown. “I don’t know. It’s going to be soon, though. I think it may be after we record the new album. Don’t say anything. I owe it to them to be the one to tell them.”

I swallow down the lump building in my throat. “It seems like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“I think I have. This is something I need to do.”

“Then you should do it. It’s not like we wouldn’t take you back. You can try a solo gig and then come back after you’ve gotten it out of your system,” I reason.

“Yeah…” Tyke clears his throat. “We’ll see.”

Before we can delve any further into the topic, the Mustang pulls down the driveway. Holly liked that car so much I went ahead and bought it for her. You would’ve thought I’d given her the moon with how crazy she went when I’d handed her the title and the keys. It’s an amazing feeling to have someone who appreciates me, so I don’t mind spoiling her in return.

Holly helps Bill out of the car and waves to Tyke and I. I pull my hand from my pocket and wave at her in return as I think about how, in this moment, I finally feel complete. Too bad things can’t stay like this. A shit storm is brewing, and it’s all going to hit the fucking fan once Tyke breaks the news to our band brothers. Shit’s about to get fucking real.

Between the Raindrops

Holly

I glance up from the registration table at the long line of riders here to sign up for the races this weekend. Every inch of the property at Mountain Time Speed Track seems like it has someone on it. Campers, sponsorship tents, scouts, riders, spectators, and our staff span out as far as the eye can see. Thanks to donations from Tyke and the rest of the Black Falcon guys we have been able to staff the two food pavilions, and hire a clean-up crew and experienced track hands. This place hasn’t ever been this busy. If I weren’t bombarded with getting everyone through this line as quick as I can so they can practice on the track, I would cry.

Screams erupt all around me as my boyfriend makes his way over. Trip shakes his head with a big grin on his face when he catches me staring at him. His black t-shirt clings to his chiseled chest and shows off the definition in his toned body. The tattoos covering his arms may give the impression of bad-boy, but I know now that there’s nothing but a big softy hiding behind that filthy mouth.

Trip twists the baseball cap on his head backwards and bends down to kiss my cheek. “Hey, beautiful. How are you doing? Do you need me to help you?”

I shake my head. “The line will take three times as long if you sit here with me. People will line up to see you rather than register. So as much as I would like to take you up on that, I’m going to have to pass.”

A random female fan yells, “WE LOVE YOU, TRIP!” from the back of the crowd somewhere.

I give him an I-told-you-so look and he laughs. “Good point. I’ll send Max over to help you out.”

I smile. “Good idea.”

He kisses my lips. “I’ll see you in a bit. I’m going to head over to the hotel and catch up with the guys. Tyke texted me a few minutes ago and told me Noel and Riff just made it in with their families.”

“I’m nervous about meeting them,” I admit.

He touches my cheek. “They’re going to love you.”

The crowd starts chanting, “Black Falcon. Black Falcon. Black Falcon.” The noise is deafening.

“Is it like this for you all the time?” I ask as I shove a finger in my ear.

He nods. “Always. I’ve got to go, before they jump over this table.”

“Go!” I shout to him over the crowd.

I can see he’s reluctant to leave me, but we both know there’s no way in hell he can stay out here and help. I push his arm and shoo him away until he finally turns and pushes his way back through the crowd.

I purse my lips and let out a long breath. This is some crazy life I’ve gotten myself mixed up in, but being with Trip is worth all the craziness.

The rest of the day goes on without a hitch. The riders made it through qualifying runs, and moved into the quarterfinals. This event is going better than expected. There are even a few scouts out there checking out the riders in this open class event.

After all the bikes clear out, and there’s nothing but chatter from the campers, I breathe a sigh of relief.

We did it.

“Checking out your success?” Max asks next to me.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah. It was pretty great.”

“Agreed,” he says while digging a small scrap of paper out of his pocket. He hands it to me. “Check it out.”

I snatch the paper from his hand as he waves it in front of my face. “What is this?”

He chuckles. “Open it and see.”

I unfold the paper, and a very male script is scrolled onto the paper asking Max to call him and then listing a phone number.

My eyes widen. “You met someone?”

Max grins. “I did. He’s nice…and hot. I’m excited.”

I laugh and hand the paper back to him while he practically glows. “I’m happy for you, Max. Everything is falling into place for you.”

“And for you,” he adds. “Trip and you are great together. I’m glad you ditched the asshole. Trip is so much better for you.”

“He is. I love him so much.” I give him a sad smile, not knowing if I can really ever forgive myself for not seeing the signs for how Jackson treated him for so long, but Max finally being in a good place is a start.

“I checked the county jail’s website. Jackson hasn’t made bail yet, but I’m sure he will. One of these days he’s going to land himself in prison. I can’t wait until we have our day in court and tell the world what a rotten bastard he is,” Max says.

I take his hand in mine. “And I’ll be right by your side.”

He smiles. “Thank you, Holl. I’m glad I have a best friend like you.”

A text message chimes in on my phone.

Trip: I’m waiting at your house for you. I’m excited you’re meeting my friends.

Freshman year…

LANE

So this is it. Freshman year.

I stand in the pristine hallway of Cedar Creek High School next to my best friend Cassandra Lutz as we survey the same faces we see year after year. Nothing in this town ever changes. I was hoping that I would be wowed in high school—dramatically swept off my feet on my first day by a dashing upper-classmen, living the dream of going to the prom as a freshman. Well, at least it’s a big dream of mine.