Page 15 of For One Night Only

No pressure.

It’s exactly the feedback I was hoping for to help my image, but after last night, my stomach twists with shame. Was Keeley right? Am I just using them to try to save my show?

I toss my phone down on the sheets with a huff. It’s not like I’m forcing anyone to be here. If they didn’t want to do this, they should have said no…then we all could have moved on with our lives, former friends growing forever apart.

My motives might have been selfish at first, but I’m glad we’re here. All these years, I kept telling myself I didn’t need the Glitter Bats, but last night proved just how much I missed this. I just don’t think anyone else feels the same.

Running my hands through my hair, I fall face down on the bed, groaning. I have to believe the band is here because they want to be, otherwise I won’t be able to shake the guilt churning in my gut.

My phone buzzes softly from where it lies on the bed next to me, and I grasp for it, propping myself up on my elbows to check the notification. We promised not to bug Wade, but he’s texted me anyway. I hope he’ll have good news…because fuck, I wasn’t ready for all of the feelings a Glitter Bats reunion would bring up.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much of an update aboutEpic Theme Song.

Wade:Before we headed to the park this morning, I heard from my contact at The Network. The press is moving in the right direction. They wouldn’t say what it’s going to take to get the green light, but they said it’s not a No yet.

It hasn’t been anofor the past year, but it hasn’t been ayeseither.

Me:Okay, so what should I do?

Wade:Fans will love the reunion—I know you’ve seen it, but there’s already been positive buzz, and we’re expecting to see more as things get closer. Tickets don’t go on sale for another week, but our contact at TicketChampion said they have thousands of people signed up for the presale already. The word is getting out. Keep doing what you’re doing!

Me:That’s it?

Wade:Hang in there, kiddo. We know these things don’t happen overnight.

Keep doing what I’m doing? So far I’ve managed to alienate my band and make everything weird and awkward, but hopefully today’s rehearsal will go more smoothly. I know I made a mess of things, but I forgot what it feels like to sing with Caleb.

He sounded so good it hurt.

My mind replays last night as I force myself off the bed. Caleb was always a great bass player, but his real power was in his golden voice, and it’s just gotten better in the years since we sang together. Something about this man singing always hits me like lightning—and that’s how I fell in love with him the first time.

I blink hard, forcing the thought away. I refuse to fall in love with Caleb Sloane again. There’s too much history between us that needs to stay in the past, so many reasons it didn’t work that contributed to our breakup. He hurt me too.

I can resist the siren song of his perfect voice for one summer.

Digging through my duffle, I wonder if I should make an effort to look presentable. I could hide out longer, do my hair, and put on the blue romper that makes my eyes pop. Instead, I pull out leggings and an oversized tee, opting for comfort over polish. I have no one to impress.

Like Wade said, I need to keep doing what I’m doing to save my career. No distractions. Just enough nostalgia to get to the fans, but not enough to get to me. Iwillfix my reputation. It’s this determination that fuels me enough to face the others downstairs.

All of my anxiety was for nothing, because it’s just Jane and Riker eating bagels, and they seem to be the least mad at me. Without a word, Jane hands me a cup of coffee from her Chemex—one fancy coffee apparatus out of four visible on the counter—and it tastes so good I pause on my way to the island to savor it. She obviously buys the good beans.

“Where are the others?”

Riker chuckles. “Keeley and Caleb got up early to go on a ‘beach run.’ That sounds like pure hell to me, so I abstained.”

“Says the gym rat,” Jane says with an eye roll. “Don’t you have one of the best fitness coaches in town?”

“Yeah, I never thought I’d like weights, but I can’t argue with the result,” Riker says with a grin, putting down his bagel to flex one of his biceps. “But for cardio, he puts me on the treadmill or elliptical. I’m not going to go run on sand—that’s just masochistic.”

“Exercise gives you endorphins—happy people don’t kill their bandmates,” Keeley says as she walks into the kitchen, dropping into the conversation without missing a beat.

Caleb is right behind her, his brow damp with sweat that makes his curls stick to his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and glowing, and he looks the way he always did after a long set.

Sweaty. Exhausted. Grinning.

It still makes my knees weak.

Fuck.

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