Beat

All the guys from Easy Ryder and their dates, except Linc and Fly

I look around the room—there’s a bar in the corner, a couple of guys who look vaguely familiar, but no sign of Fly

“I’m just tired. Haven’t slept so good.”

“Life on the road is tough.” She looks over at Mick and Dylan. “Even tougher with moody assholes like them.” We both laugh. “C’mon, Lucky. Let’s go live a little. These old bastards are going to stand around and drink beer. I see a cute bartender with shot glasses and a dance floor calling our name.”

I do one shot for every two that Lydia does; the two I drink have my head spi

An hour later I’m on my second fruity drink. The music is pumping and I feel it in my veins. Or perhaps it’s the alcohol. Either way, it flows through me, taking away all my worries. The crowd downstairs has thickened, the music has changed from rock to more of an R&B. Bodies sway with a sensual vibe.

“Come on. Let’s go dance.” Lydia grabs my hand. We stop by the booth that Dylan and Mick are sitting at. Mick waves off his wife, not caring where she’s going. Dylan, on the other hand, gives me a look of a

“Why don’t you come with me, then?” I yell over music that seems to have gotten louder since we started talking.

“Go. But save some of your energy for me later,” he says. I’ve feigned everything from tired to a headache the last few days every time he’s tried to get intimate.

Down on the dance floor, the music is so loud that I can’t even hear myself think. Which is exactly what I need. A new song with an incredible beat fills the air and I start moving my body, letting the music take control of my mind.

“There you go, beautiful girl. Let whatever is bothering you go,” Lydia says, but I more or less have to read her lips. She closes her eyes and joins me in getting lost in the music. A few guys try to dance with us, but we shoo them away and keep to ourselves. I lift my arms over my head, letting my hips sway from side to side, and my eyes drift closed.

I’m at the fringe of awareness, lost somewhere in my own semiconsciousness, when I feel it. Goose bumps break out all over my skin before I even understand what it is that’s happening. I open my eyes and, like metal to a magnet, I see him. Fly

“You okay?” Lydia asks, noticing I’m frozen on the dance floor.

“Yeah. I. Uh. I was just looking at the VIP rooms upstairs, trying to figure out which one we’re in.”

“Oh. We’re right up there.” She points to the second floor. To the room directly below where Fly

Not knowing what to do under the scrutiny of his stare, eventually I attempt to dance again. But I’ve lost the vibe—the atmosphere changed from being lost in the moment to being lost in the man. Another drink is definitely in order. Lydia pouts but leaves with me, again hooking her arm into mine as we make our way into the elevator to return to the second-floor VIP room.

Security pushes a button and the doors slide open. Inside, the guard presses number two…but then I realize there is no button for the floor above us. “There’re only two floors on the panel. How do people get up to the third floor?” I ask.

“You need a security card.” He motions to the top of the panel. “Slips into the slot and takes you upstairs. Boss man, his friends and employees only.”

I know I’ve had way too much to drink when I start singing in public. It’s only a whisper of the words, but the beat thumps along in unison with my heart and I feel the words as I sing the song “Someone New” along with Hozier. The last few lines of the chorus croons about falling in love a little bit more every day with someone new. I sing the words looking up, wondering if Fly

Eventually, the song comes to an end. Still staring up at the opaque glass ceiling, I blow out a shaky breath. Feeling bereft, I decide I need a few minutes of privacy to clear my head. Dylan’s busy arguing with the tour manager when I excuse myself telling, him I need to find a ladies’ room, but really I head to the elevator to search for some desperately needed fresh air.

The security guard is on the phone, but he opens the door to the elevator when I arrive. A few seconds later, the doors slide open—I hadn’t even noticed we weren’t going down. “Boss man wants to see you.” The hulk of a man extends his arm, gesturing for me to exit the elevator.

I don’t have to ask which way to go. I walk toward the same room I was just in, only one floor up. My insides churn at the sight of a woman vying for Fly

We stand at opposite ends of the room, our gazes locked, until he pushes off the wall and, with a few long strides, stalks to me. I can see the flex of his jaw and the darkness in his normally light-blue eyes.

His friend from today approaches us, his face going through a mental Rolodex before recognition dawns. “You’re Dylan Ryder’s girlfriend, right?”

Fly

Through my peripheral vision, I see his friend’s brows draw down, then understanding hits him. “Shit. You’re asking for trouble.” Blake shakes his head, but a minute later the room is cleared of everyone except Fly

Fly

“My mother raised me and my sister, Bec, alone. She struggled every day to make ends meet and never had time for herself. Our dad left when I was eight. Had his secretary actually waiting in the car the day he moved out.”

He drags a hand through his hair. I reach out to touch him, but he puts his hand up. “Don’t.” The disdain in his voice makes me want to vomit.

“Bec married Professor Douchebag. My niece, Laney, has a half-sister three weeks younger than her. Compliments of her father’s TA.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. And I truly am. Although I’m not sure my words bring any comfort, since I’m the cause of his turmoil.

“I’m not the other guy.”

The irony is, he was never the other guy. From the first time we crossed that line, Dylan became the other guy. But I nod anyway, respecting what he’s saying a hell of a lot more than I respect myself at this moment.