Page 33 of Bitter Beats

Aiden frowns when he sees her. “Mckenna? What are you doing here?”

I narrow my eyes. How the hell does my lawyer know Mckenna? Sure, she’s been around the band a few times, but since she’s not my biggest fan, she usually steers clear.

Mckenna ducks her head sheepishly and lifts a hand in greeting. “Hey, Aiden. I’m, uh, I’m crash?—”

“She’s my roommate,” I interject.

Surprise washes over Aiden’s face, but he clamps his mouth closed.

“She’s in Derek and Allegra’s room,” my brother adds. Of course, no one would want Aiden to get the wrong idea. An unfavorable impression.

Mckenna Byrne would never be living here because ofme.

“Hi.” Kimberly holds out a hand. “I’m Kimberly, the band’s publicist, and this is Jess, the band’s manager.” She gestures toward Jess, who gives a little wave.

“We’ve met,” Jess adds.

“Yes,” Mckenna says, recognition flaring in her eyes. “Good to see you again. And it’s nice to meet you, Kimberly.” Mckenna shakes Kimberly’s hand before sinking into a chair on the periphery of the group huddle.

The second she’s seated, all eyes zero in on me.

“You fucked up.” Jess’s voice cuts the air, focusing on the matter at hand. Jess is brutal, direct, and unflinching. A great manager and a constant pain in the ass. “What the hell were you thinking, Mav?”

I run a hand through my hair. “It was a mistake.”

“Too fucking many,” Levi quips as if he’s a fucking saint. As if a few years ago, his shit didn’t end our European tour early and nearly destroy the band.

“Blow me,” I mutter.

“I didn’t realize you were hard up,” he counters.

My brother rolls his eyes. “Can’t keep doing this shit with you, Mav.”

I lift my eyes to my brother’s and cross my arms over my chest. My default position. Defensive as always, protective as hell, even when the world thinks I’m laughing. “Doing what?” I challenge him, even though I know exactly what he means.

Can’t keep bailing you out.

Can’t keep cleaning up your messes.

Can’t keep dealing with your bullshit.

But he should know I’d turn out just like Dad. Except he doesn’t. Because Jameson has no clue that the man who bailed on us is my blood—and not his. He doesn’t realize that I carry the fucked-up genes, the kneejerk reaction to run, and he carries…untainted DNA. A moral high ground.

“You put the band at risk,” Kimberly explains, her tone softer than the others.

I avert my gaze and try to school my features. I struggle to tamp down the guilt that explodes in the pit of my stomach because she’s right. I put the band at risk. The only real family I have—and I jeopardized that.

“What’re we looking at, legally?” Jameson asks Aiden.

“Strictly in a legal context?” Aiden asks.

Jameson nods.

“Nothing.” Mckenna shrugs. “The Massachusetts Adultery Law was repealed in 2018. And even then, it wasn’t much of a precedent to sue someone for sleeping with their spouse. If anything, there could be implications if the senator and his wife file for divorce.”

“Exactly,” Aiden agrees, giving Mckenna an encouraging smile I don’t like.

How well do they know each other? And why?

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