Page 29 of Edge of Heaven

“When did that happen?”

“Well, I told our management company that I need some cash and asked if they would be willing to play agent since I don’t have one anymore. Sasha made some calls and said they were thrilled I was interested in coming back. They were happy to work with our tour dates, and so, here I am.” He sinks into the seat next to mine and I stare at him for a second before I realize I’m holding up the line.

I quickly sit down and put on my seatbelt. “That’s amazing,” I say.

He pauses. “You’re not mad, are you? You’ve been avoiding me, and I was worried maybe I overstepped the last time we talked.”

I shake my head. “I’m not mad. I’m just concerned about Callum seeing us together. You know how possessive he is. And when he gets jealous, he gets physical. I’m trying to spare us both a lot of unnecessary aggravation.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Well, it’s not just you I’m worried about!”

The flight attendant chooses that moment to come by with champagne and I take a sip, grateful for the interruption. I’m trying so hard to be strong, to stay in control of my emotions, but Mick makes me want to throw caution to the wind. Throw myself in his arms. Let him comfort me, remind me I’m going to survive the next four-and-a-half months. Like he can somehow save me from the chaos of my life.

Except no one can.

Especially not a hazel-eyed bass player with abs for days.

I have distinct memories of what Mick looks like without a shirt—without anything—and since he often takes his shirt off during shows, I know his six-pack has turned into a twelve-pack.

The silence stretches out for a while, and when I glance at him in my peripheral vision, he’s staring out the window.

Fuck.

I don’t know if I’ve hurt his feelings or something else, but I don’t want him to be upset with me. We’re going to spend the next two days working together, and I’m looking forward to it. Not just because of the money involved but also because it’s Mick. Other than my mother and son, he’s one of the only people who talks to me without wanting something from me.

Mick is my only friend right now, and I keep pushing him away.

I’m trying to protect myself, but I’m also trying to protect him—I’d never forgive myself if Callum kicked Crimson Edge off the tour in a jealous rage.

Impulsively, I reach over and put my hand on his forearm.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He covers my hand with one of his. “For what?”

“For being a bitch. I don’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I just… I’m a mess. And I don’t have anyone else to talk to. My mother works all day, and then takes care of Toby, Toby’s just a kid, and Callum won’t let me get close to anyone else. I’m so damn alone, Mick.”

“You’re not,” he says softly. “I’m here. In whatever capacity you need, you can count on me.”

His words bring tears to my eyes, and I squeeze them shut as the plane takes off.

“Why are you so nice?” I finally whisper.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We slept together a few times four years ago,” I say. “It’s a fond memory, but it was three stolen days in time. We barely know each other.”

“Not true,” he says. “I know that you were born on Halloween and it’s your favorite holiday. I know you got pregnant at fifteen by your high school boyfriend and had a baby boy named Toby at sixteen. I know your boyfriend died in a car accident and his family wanted nothing to do with you or the baby.”

I swallow.

I shared more than I remembered.

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