“Yeah. They’re back at one of their apartments.” I scan over the report again, looking for anything that stands out. “So, Mads? He’s good?”
“Yeah, this group isn’t getting out of North Carolina. If they tour there anytime soon, I’ll dig deeper.”
“I imagine they’ll go home for the holidays, so let’s get a jumpstart on the digging,” I tell him. “What about Zeb? Did you find out where he was the other week?”
“I think he has a place outside of town,” Kade replies.
I frown. “Like a second house? His apartment isn’t too far from here.”
“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. His dating app history is…” Kade whistles. “Specific.”
“I did hear a rumor,” I say, almost laughing as I remember Bonnie saying he likes the chase. “Second house would make sense if it’s true. Any clues where?”
“We lost him about halfway between his apartment and the studio. Apart from putting a tail on him—which hewillrecognize—all we can do is wait on him to tell us about it,” he says.
“Of course he’s the one with secrets,” I mumble. “I wonder if the rest of the band knows.”
Kade shrugs, and I flip through the last couple of pages, noting the messages on them.
“Anyone he’s chatting with a concern?” I ask.
“Nothing. All legit. I think he runs his own sweeps. He has to. I find it hard to believe the people he’s chatting with are this clean when Bonnie’s are trash.”
I quirk a brow, and Kade scoffs.
“Okay, maybe Zeb is better at cloaking himself,” Kade says.
“There it is,” I say.
I set the file on the bed and tread into the kitchen to get something to drink. “So… what’s up with Bonnie’s matches? Is she getting catfished?” I ask, trying to pretend like I’m not dying to know everything that’s going on in her private life.
“That was the worst ‘play-it-cool’ ever,” Kade says as I pad back into the bedroom. “I hope you don’t sound like that when you talk to her.”
I shove the back of his head and pick up the tablet. “Just show me what’s going on already.”
“Already pulled up on there for you,” he says, tapping the screen.
I lean against the desk and absentmindedly sink my free hand into my pocket, finding her underwear in there that I’d nearly forgotten about. The soft lace grounds me as I start to read through the messages, and I’m fucking grateful that I chose to put my weight on something instead of standing wholly upright.
Send me a picture for good luck, baby.
I love those tights.
Good morning, pretty.
Did you think about me last night?
I dreamed of licking the tears off your face after I make you come.
The first few threads are harmless enough, even if my stomach is rifled with envy. Shit. There are hundreds of messages, yet no photos from her end. However, the way she’s talking to them… instructing them on how to touch themselves, encouraging the photos, and more…
Fuck envy. I am raging with jealousy.
“What are you twir—are those her underwear?” Kade asks after a few minutes.
I didn’t even realize I had taken them out of my pocket. I thought I was still twirling them in secret.
But there they are, the pink lace entwined around my fingers like it’s my security blanket.
