Page 28 of Fractured Rhythm

“Hopefully by the end of the night,” she deadpanned, and I couldn’t stop the burst of laughter that bubbled out.

Yep, I couldn’t wait for her to meet Jax. I’d have to protect Tristan from her.

We grabbed an Uber and walked into the club thirty minutes later. Jax had put my name on a list so we headed right inside, skipping the long line. The house music pounded, the bass deep enough to vibrate the floor, while a mass of bodies moved on the dance floor. This was not the place for a conversation, for which I was grateful. It was my first time here, but all clubs were the same, with loud music, swirling bodies, and weak, overpriced mixed drinks. I’d take a bar any day over a club.

“Drinks or dancing?” Holly asked, already shaking her hips with the beat. Her red curls shimmered under the strobe lights.

I pulled my phone out of my wristlet. “I’m going to text Jax to let him know we’re here. And definitely a drink first.” I swiped on my phone and sent him a quick text. I looked up at the VIP section, but it was too dark to see if the guys were already up there. The butterflies ramped up in my belly when I read Jax’s response.

Jax:Cassiopeia! Meet me at the bottom of the stairs near VIP.

I relayed that to Holly, and we bypassed the bar and headed to the VIP section that was roped off with a large bouncer standing at the bottom of the steps.

“There’s my Cassiopeia,” Jax yelled, his grin infectious.

A few heads swiveled in his direction, and I heard more than one gasp and oh my god, is that Jax from Steelwolf.

“Cassiopeia?” Holly asked.

“Jax loves nicknames. He’s the only one who’s ever called me that,” I said before I turned back to face the ball of energy jumping off the final step.

He pulled me into a hug and I sank into him. God, I’d missed them. They had been my family for so long, and I should’ve made more of an effort after Jamie died. We all should’ve. Emails weren’t enough.

“I swear you keep getting hotter,” Jax said when he pulled back from our hug.

I swatted his chest. “And you never change.”

“Like anyone would want me to. You don’t mess with perfection, Cassiopeia,” he said with a smirk. “You going to introduce me to your friend? Oh, and good call not bringing a guy. I swear Bash looked like his head was going to explode when I said you might be dating someone.”

“What?”

“Introduce me to your friend,” he repeated.

“Holly. Jax. Jax. Holly. There. Now, what are you talking about with Bash? Why does he care if I’m seeing someone?”

His smile widened, and I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut, but the words spilled out before I could rein them back in.

“Tonight should be fun,” Jax said, refusing to answer my question. “Shall we go up?” he asked Holly.

“Of course. And nice to meet you.”

I wouldn’t press. That would only lead to more questions that I wasn’t prepared to answer. I followed Holly and Jax up the stairs.

The roped-off section was dim. Low sofas with tiny round tables filled one side, leaving plenty of space for people to look over the railing at the dance floor below. I recognized two actors in one corner, with girls teetering on their laps.

Typical.

I hadn’t spent a ton of time with the band after they’d made it big. Only attending a random show here and there during summer breaks. I was used to seeing them mixed in with the general population at local bars. I scanned the area, grinning when Tristan unfolded his lanky frame from the low couch and headed my way. He pushed a strand of long blond hair out of his face and gave me a bright smile.

“Hey, Cas,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “It’s been too fucking long. We won’t do that again, right?” he muttered into my hair.

“Promise,” I whispered back as his arms tightened around me.

He pulled back. “Glad you came. You look good. Still loving the job, right?”

I laughed. Tristan’s emails tended to focus on me and how I was doing with work, life, etc. “Yeah, job’s still great. I hear you guys are working on new music. Can’t wait to hear it.”

“He’ll always be part of the band,” Tristan said, and I sucked in a breath.

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