Page 90 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

I pause. “A rock band.”

She laughs. “Isa, what do you know about rock music?”

“I’ve had a bit of an education recently,” I say indignantly.

“This is a rock band of women?”

“No . . .”

She sighs. “So a magazine wants to send an unknown, inexperienced journalist to follow around a group of male rock musicians? Unchaperoned?”

“Ay mamá, que es esto los 50s?”

She’s quiet, and I can practically visualize the scowl from the other end of the line.

“I met them through a girlfriend and they’re really nice. They won’t let anything bad happen to me. They’re my friends.”

“Uh-uh, boys cannot be friends with girls. Especially pretty girls like my Isa.”

Part of me wants to argue, but then the night that Dave and I spent together two days ago reminds me that maybe she’s right. We couldn’t be just friends because there was always that attraction between us standing in the way. It was really just a matter of time before it happened and, my god, did it ever happen. The way he made me feel is like out of the most scandalous romance novels—or a porno. But that’s it. It’s over and done. He’s moved on and so have I. I definitely haven’t spent the last forty-eight hours thinking about his touch, his kisses, his moans.

“Isa, are you listening to me?”

“Sorry, yes. I’ll be fine. It’s just for a few weeks and I promise I’ll call every few days, okay?”

“Just . . . promise me you’ll be safe,” she pleads.

I nod absently into the phone. “I will.”

Hanging up, I look around my apartment. It’s surprisingly clean and empty, thanks to Becks and her heart of gold followed by the fact that I’ve been away for two days. The only thing out of place is the leatherbound journal on my bed that Dave gave me for Christmas.

I snatch the journal back up and flip it open. It’s really beautiful, and I wonder briefly if he bought it for himself after losing his list—his list that still lives secretly in my purse. At this point he must know it’s gone, meaning it’s too late now to somehow sneak it back to him. I can’t tell him I found it or he’ll ask why I didn’t return it sooner, and what could I possibly say? That part of me wanted to hold some secret, intimate part ofhimin my hands?

Then after what happened between us on Christmas . . .

My stomach jolts and there’s a tingling rush between my legs as I remember that night once more. That unbelievable, mind-altering, wonderful night. And while we promised it wouldn’t change anything—something has shifted. Of course, everyone finding out about it wasn’t exactly in the plans, and it took all of my energy to avoid being alone in a room with Becks so I could dodge what I’m sure would’ve been a thorough interrogation. But Dave acted so strangely. Nervous and not his usual, confident self.

I knew it would hurt. I knew in my heart that after that one devastating kiss that led to so much more, it would never be enough. So I put on my best performance to date and convinced everyone in that room I was fine—it appears even Dave, with all his talk of understanding people’s rhythms, didn’t pick up on it.

I just hope he can keep up his part of the deal. That this won’t change anything between us, because my attraction to him aside,he’s actually a really great guy and I’m lucky to have him in my life—even if that means keeping things strictly platonic.

“I’ve arrangedfor you to go on the bus with the band for the last three weeks of the tour,” Harold Lewis says.

My mouth drops open for the millionth time as I sit across from him in his Bay area office. “Really?”

“It’s really the most practical and cost-efficient way to do this. It’s just for traveling purposes. When you get to each city, there will be a motel room available for you to have some privacy.”

“Right.”

He grins. “I realize having to sleep on a tour bus with four grown men may not be the most decent thing . . .”

I nod my head. “My mother would agree.”

Lewis chuckles.

“But it’s fine. It won’t be all the time and it’ll give me lots of down time with the guys to chat with them about their experiences while they’re touring.”

He claps his hands together. “Yes, exactly what I thought.”

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