Page 7 of Spark

Those are exactly the things I felt when I first met Ruby. The second I saw her, my palms went clammy and my heart skipped a beat. I swear to god, a swarm of butterflies attacked my stomach, just like they talk about in cheesy movies.

“Now that we’ve got the right musicians in place,” Kai says, “the sky’s the limit for us, guys. I can feel it.”

“Fuck yeah, it is,” Savage says, with far more enthusiasm than I’ve ever heard from him in relation to the band. “Hey, toss me one of those beers, man. We’re celebrating.”

Kai grabs beers and throws one to Savage, as requested, and then to me, even though I never drink during football season. Fuck it. I crack open mine and guzzle the whole thing in one gulp. My body is normally my temple until the season is over, but tonight, I’m making an exception. Because tonight? Fuck me, it was pretty damned clear the girl I’ve been crushing on, the girl who’s the spark that lit a fuse inside me andcaused an explosion, felt that exact same kind of a spark tonight.For my brother.

“Slow down, KC,” Kai says. “We’re gonna have a toast.”

“Here’s my toast.” I let out a long, loud burp, making the guys laugh.

“Cheers to that,” Savage says, still chuckling.

“Actually, you know what?” I blurt, suddenly determined to keep Ruby away from Kai. “I agree with you. I think we should all treat Ruby like a sister, the same way she’s a sister to Titus. Our whole band will be an all-for-one-one-for-all kind of a thing.”

Savage furrows his brow. “You really want it that way?”

“I do.”

“Good call, KC,” Kai says. “From this moment on, we’re all Ruby’s brothers, not just Titus. That’s the only way this is ever going to work out.”

Savage trains his dark gaze on me for a long moment. And when I don’t give him anything to work with, because I can’t without giving myself away, he shrugs and says, “As long as it’sKendrickCook telling me what to do, and notKaiCook, then count me in.”

We raise our beers to seal the deal. Although mine is empty, unlike theirs. Is that the equivalent of crossed fingers? Probably not. More likely, I think I’ve just managed to keep my best friend and big brother from making a play for the girl I’m crushing on . . . while simultaneously decimating my own slim chances with her as a result.

2

KENDRICK

Present Day

12:33 am

New York City

Thump, thump, thump.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

I open my eyes, yanked from a dream, and spit out, “Fucking hell.” I was having a sex dream, I think. A good one, based on the boner that’s currently poking at my briefs. But maybe not. Maybe I’m confusing the sounds wafting through the shared wall with Kai and whatever I was dreaming about.

Thump, thump, thump.

“Oh, God, Kai! Yes!”

Jesus. Are the walls of this hotel made of cardboard, or is my big brother’s fuck buddy for the night the loudest groupie in the history of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll?

As the offending sounds persist, I glare at the clock on thenightstand. I don’t judge my brother or anyone else if they want to have sex with a rando. Before Savage fell ass over feet for his blonde popstar of a wife, Laila, he made a goddamned sport of doing exactly that, and I never once judged him. Well, maybe once or twice. But not too much, when I’ve certainly played “horny rockstar” more than a few times. Especially during our first tour. I admit I was a bit unhinged.

But, anyway, me not judging my big brother for rhythmically thumping a woman into our shared wall doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at him for waking me up from my first dead sleep in a long while. Kai knows we’re sharing a wall tonight; he saw me entering the door next to his earlier, when we got our room assignments. And he also knows I’ve been uncharacteristically battling insomnia for the past two months. Not to mention, it’s now, officially, my twenty-eighth birthday. So, knowing all that, why wouldn’t Kai think to at least shove his hand over his new friend’s mouth to muffle her sounds while he rails her?

With a sigh, I reach for my phone on the nightstand, figuring I’ll scroll for a bit, but when I see my lyrics journal sitting next to it, I grab that, instead. Throughout my recent sleepless nights, I’ve been scratching out little snippets of lyrics here and there, to pass the time. I’m not one of the lyricists in our band—that would be Savage or Ruby. Sometimes, Kai. But you never know what might inspire someone else, so we all keep notes and share them when it’s time for our next songwriting session.

Journal and pen in hand, I flip to the next open page and begin to write:

Lying awake, my body staginga coup

It’s as far as I get before my phone pings on the nightstand. When I grab it, I’ve got a new text:

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