Page 19 of How to Date a Rockstar

I snort. “Because they haven’t caused any trouble in the past?”

“I’m not talking about fan girls going into a rage when Gibson kicks them out of his bed or when Jett decides to go parachuting an hour before we need to be on stage and ends up in the emergency room because he broke his leg. I’m talking about actual real trouble. The kind lawyers and PR firms can’t get them out of.”

“Do you not get tired?”

His brow wrinkles. “Do you not remember the time I fell asleep in the closet with my pants around my ankles?”

I chuckle. “Your girl was pissed.”

“Didn’t stop her from trying to suck me off while I slept.”

“I don’t mean exhausted and falling asleep.”

“What did you mean?”

I blow out a breath. “Don’t you get tired of being the referee? Of being the peacemaker?”

He shrugs. “It’s who I am.”

I envy how sure he is of who he is and of his place in the world. I thought I was sure of who I am, but then I discovered the truth. And have been ignoring it ever since.

We continue along Main Street until a girl barrels into me. I try to sidestep her but she wraps her arms around my legs and holds on tight.

“Are you my uncle?”

Uncle? My heart skips a beat as I study the little blonde girl in front of me. Is she related to me? Is she one of the people I came to Winter Falls to meet? “Excuse me?”

Her nose wrinkles as she stares at me. “You look like my uncles. I have five.” She holds up her hand and counts them off. “Riley, Brody, Miller, Elder, and Peace.”

Five? If she has five uncles, there are six brothers. I thought there were five. I know all of the names except Peace. Who’s Peace?

A woman rushes up to us. “I’m sorry. She got away from me. I hope she’s not bothering you.”

“I’m not bothering them. This is my uncle,” the little girl declares loud enough for people passing on the street to notice.

The woman looks up at me and I can tell the moment she recognizes who we are. Her eyes widen and excitement sparks. To her credit, she doesn’t remark on it.

She smiles down at the little girl. “This man is not your uncle.”

“But he looks exactly like Uncle Riley and Uncle Brody. They’re twins and they’re my uncles,” she explains to me.

“Sorry, kiddo. I don’t know them.” It’s not a lie. I knowofthem, but I don’t know them.

A man saunters up to us. “I hope you’re not bothering these men, Skye.”

She huffs. “Of course not, Daddy.”

He ruffles her hair before looking my way. His eyes spark with recognition. And this recognition isn’t becauseCash & the Sinnersis an internationally recognized band. No, he knows exactly who I am. Fuck. My time’s up.

“Let’s go, Skye. I’m sure we’ll be seeing him again.” His gaze bores into me as he speaks. Yep. He recognizes me. I wonder which brother he is.

I watch them saunter down the sidewalk. The father glances back one more time before yanking his phone out of his pocket. He’s probably messaging all of his brothers. All six of them. Seven if you count me.

“Ah,” Dylan says once they’re out of hearing range. “It all makes sense now. I thought you were being an asshole because of Indigo.”

Indigo’s one reason, but she’s not the sole reason. Not this time.

“But it’s not about Indigo. You’re still hung up on her, but you didn’t insist we record our album in this small town in Colorado because of her.”

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