“Anyway,” I push on. “It won’t last forever. We’ll take lots of pictures and create amazing memories and you can keep them in that box with all the things you’ve collected to remind yourself you really made it.”

He laughs. “Yeah?”

I smile. “Yeah. You’re lucky you have a friend who’s a fairly decent photographer,” I say with a wink.

He smiles back, but it wavers for a moment. I turn away, swinging my bag of clothes—his smile is too glorious to look at dead-on. Ahead of us, the old theater’s marquee comes into view.

“Thanks again,” I say. “For everything. The clothes and the coffee. You’re right, I can’t survive without it.”

He nods. “Just don’t tell the guys. They’ll think I’m playing favorites,” he says with a smirk.

I mime zipping my lips closed and tossing away the key. Dave trudges into the bus, but I hesitate on the first step. Looking back up at the marquee, an idea comes to me. Scouring through my purse, I pull out the worn paper with Dave’s list.

See the band’s name on a marquee.

The sound of a door opening startles me, and I spot someone coming out of the theater door. He must be an employee if he’s here this early in the morning.

“Umm . . . excuse me?” I say.

He looks up at me and frowns. “Here already? The show isn’t for over twelve hours and it’s freezing. Go home and I’ll put in a good word for you with security so you can meet the band.”

My mouth drops open. “I—excuse me?”

“That’s what you want right? A way to get backstage?”

Holy shit, this guy thinks I’m a groupie.

“Oh!” I say, stepping forward, my stomach spinning like a dryer. “No. I’m with the band actually. I’m touring with them, writing an article forEarworm Magazine.” I pull out my press badge from my purse and show him.

His cheeks turn pink. “Sorry, miss. My mistake. What can I do for you?”

I glance up at the marquee again. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

CHAPTER 32

Heartbreaker

DAVE

When I hop up on the stage for sound check a few hours later, I find three wild-haired musicians staring back at me and freeze.

“Hey,” I say casually. “What’s, uh . . . What’s going on?”

Key leans on the microphone. “Well, you seem to have come to your senses and stopped being such an asshole.”

“I—”

“Also . . .” Joel says, dramatically looking over at James. “Was thatyourjacket I saw Isabella walking away in this morning?”

I press my lips together then shrug. “Yeah? So? She forgot to bring one and it’s cold as shit.”

“Dude, you wouldn’t even lend me a pair of socks last week,” Key says with an exasperated laugh.

“So what?” I head for the drum kit. “If you wore my socks, I would’ve had to burn them after.”

“Just making observations . . . you know,” Joel continues. “For the speech I’m going to give as the best man at your wedding.”

“Who says you get to be the best man?” James chimes in.