Page 66 of Reverse

Easton and Benji glance over at me with raised brows.

“Or maybe it’s already working, damn,” I grin, holding up my pint. “What is in dark beer?”

Benji chuckles. “It’s the man’s version of red wine. Women don’t talk about the difference in the buzz between a chardonnay or merlot, but it’s legit. Two glasses of red will get your blood pumping like no other and can make a hard day a little more bearable.”

“In that case,” I down the rest of the beer, and they both chuckle. I strain to see Easton’s accompanying smile and miss it because of the way he’s laying. I stand to get another beer. “Sure you don’t mind, Benji?”

“Not at all. It’s what it’s there for.”

Benji projects his voice as I draw another beer. “So, I’m guessing you figured out who I was before you came out of the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” I say, walking back toward my chair, trying really hard not to notice the bulge of Easton’s bicep as his hand cradles his head.

“I guess I’m just surprised the place isn’t crowded with groupies, but I guess that’s partly a result of your parents keeping you all out of the spotlight?”

Benji nods. “Our whole lives. When the Sergeants stopped releasing and then touring, the paparazzi started to lose interest in all of us, making it easy for me to open up shop. To most who walk in here, I’m just the hot-as-fuck blond who inks excellent tatts.”

Easton rolls his eyes, and I grin.

“Well, to credit your parents, they did their job. The only reason I pieced it together is because I crammed in as much research as possible before I got here and watched the movie.”

The bitter edge in my tone rings clear as they both glance my way.

“The movie was more about the evolution of the band and Stella’s career,” Benji explains simply.

“Yeah,” I agree curtly, and Easton doesn’t miss it, doing the prodding voodoo thing.

“Hollywood,” Benji says, dipping for more ink. “Only they could make my parents’ story seem romantic when it’s anything but.”

“But the whole of their start and their relationship took place before you were born, right?”

“True,” he agrees, seemingly unconvinced. “Which places tía and your dad’s relationship before the movie, too, right?”

I shake my head.

Understanding flits over his features. “Ah, sothat’swhy you’re curious.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” I admit. “So, you’ve never heard about my father or his role in Stella’s life?”

He squints as if in thought and shakes his head. “Sorry, can’t say that I have.”

“It’s okay.” I wave the apology away. “I thought as much. It just threw me for a few days, that’s all.”

Easton’s expression calls bullshit as I harden my gaze on him. “I guess it’s just the journalist in me. I’m not really a bits-and-pieces type of girl.”

“But you won’t ask your dad?”

“No, I don’t want to bring up anything from his past that might hurt him.”

“But it’s hurting you,” Benji fires back point-blank.

“It’s my own fault for prying. But it’s more the mystery of what happened that is bothering me. It’s like watching a movie halfway. Even though you know the end, you still want to see how they all got there. I blame a lot of it on the journalist in me.”

“I get it. I do.” Benji stops his gun and cracks his neck. “All right, you’re doing good, but let’s take a little break, man.”

Easton shakes his head. “I’m good.”

Benji snaps off his gloves and trashes them. “Well, I need a piss and a smoke, so sit tight.”

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