Page 1 of Bonding the Band

Chapter 1

Meadow

April, Seattle

Tuesday.

It was a goddamned Tuesday.

Tuesdays were meant for staying home, snuggling up in the nest, reading a good book, or maybe watching some gory true crime documentary—because nothing was cozier than serial killers.

The days between Sunday and Thursdaywere notmeant for loud, over-the-top rock concerts.

What else could I expect from a band calledHard Knot Life?

“You’re lucky I like you,” I grumbled to Clover, wrapping my leather jacket around myself, trying to stay warm. My bestie was the only person I’d freeze my ass off for. I couldn’t let her go to this concert alone, no matter how much I’d thought about shackling her ankle to my nest so we could skip it. I’d shackle her to her own, but then we couldn’t watch documentaries together, because god only knew who the hell had been rolling around in hers. My nose couldn’t take it.

Clover liked alphas, though. She thrived on the attention and was a social butterfly. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably become a hermit. I found most alphas overwhelming.Fictionalalphas were the only ones I was eager to get close to. One day, I’d like to have an alpha, or even a pack, if they were all chill humans. But that was a problem for future-Meadow, once I’d graduated and wasn’t up to my eyeballs in essays.

“C’mon, Meadow, it’s not that bad.” Clover snuggled up to me for warmth, her mini dress offering basically nothing in terms of protection from the near-freezing temperatures.

“Clover, I can’t feel my fingers! It’s obviousyou’recold,” I grumbled, looking pointedly at her chest.

“I’ll risk frostbite if it means I look this cute. Maybe these glorious nips will get the band’s attention. If I get any colder, they can see them from space. The band will have no choice but to rescue me from hypothermia, and I’ve heard the best way to do that is to strip naked and snuggle.”

“I amnotgoing to naked snuggle you if you get frostbite.”

Clover dramatically pouted and gave me her best puppy eyes. “I thought youlovedme.”

Clover knew full well she wouldn’t struggle to find someone to warm her up. She was a knockout at five feet eight inches, with curves for days, hair like sunshine, a megawatt smile that disarmed even the grumpiest of humans, and a sweet, fresh peony scent that was delicious to any designation. Between Clover’s peony and my white rose and lilac scent, we’d joked many times that our dorm could be mistaken for a florist.

“Idolove you. I sure as hell wouldn’t drag my ass out of my nest for just anyone,especiallyafter I had already showered and put on my comfiest pajamas.”

“It’ll be totally worth it. I couldn’t pass up VIP tickets—there’s a chance we could actually meet them!” She whispered the last part so only I could hear.

I wasn’t living under a rock, and while I did aspire to be a hermit, I hadn’t quite achieved that status yet. Even I knew the songs of Hard Knot Life. They had been topping the charts routinely for years—their music was everywhere; you couldn’t escape it. Malls, bathrooms, doctor’s offices, anywhere with a speaker played the PG-13 version of the songs. Clover played the explicit ones in our dorm and sang along—loudly—so a lyric or two had lodged in my brain over our time as roommates.

According to Clover, the lead singer, Apollo, was the most stereotypicalsex, drugs, and rock and rollalpha you could imagine. With a name like Apollo, I wasn’t surprised.

Clover bounced up and down on the spot. “The line is moving!”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the next several hours of loud, musical hell. “Okay, let’s do this.”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Clover squeezed me into an enthusiastic hug.

“Foryou,” I said with a laugh. “I couldn’t see a thing behind the giants in front of us.” It actually hadn’t been the worst. As tempted as I’d been to pull out my phone to read, I’d focused on listening, knowing Clover would probably shove my phone down her titties if she caught me, or even throw it onto the stage…I’d have been escorted out by security trying to get it back, but I wouldn’t put it past her.

“Hey, the dude who lifted me onto his shoulders had a friend who was perfectly willing to hoist you up there too.”

“I am not putting my thighs on the shoulders of a strange alpha. Also, he smelled like cheese!” Despite standing next to such potent—and not in the good way—alphas, I’d caught hints of delicious woodsmoke and citrus but couldn’t find the source.

Clover sighed. “You have no sense of adventure. Clearly I haven’t rubbed off on you enough. Come on, I’m ready to meet my dream alphas.”

I followed her, begrudgingly, keeping a hold on the skinny strap of her purse so I didn’t get swept away in the crowd as we maneuvered to the backstage area. Security checked our tickets and ushered us through. That smoky citrus scent teased my nose again, but the source continued to elude me. I was pretty sure it was a person, but knowing my luck, it was probably a cleaning product.

Security led us to a bench where other VIP ticket holders were already sitting, and I sank down gratefully, relieved to have the weight off my feet. “I can’t believe you made me wear heels. I could’ve worn flats for all I got to see.”

Clover wiggled with excitement. “But you look socute! Cute trumps comfort; it’s a known fact.”

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