Afterward, we remain pressed against the wall and tangled together, the hum of the engines a distant murmur. I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
“For what?” she asks, murmuring into my chest with her head resting against my shoulder,.
“For this. For you.”
She smiles up at me, her gaze soft and steady. “Always.”
I gently lift her off me, lowering her legs until her feet find the floor. I wait, steadying her with a hand on her waist, before stepping back to give her room. As we fumble to redress in the cramped space, our elbows knock together, and her soft giggles fill the air, drawing a grin to my lips despite myself.
After the fourth time our arms bump, I narrow my eyes and accuse, "Are you doing this on purpose?"
"No," she replies, her laugh bubbling up like she can’t help herself. But then she does it again, grinning mischievously, and I shake my head, unable to hold back a chuckle at her antics.
When we return to the main cabin, the weight of the upcoming tour doesn’t feel quite as heavy. Lily takes her seat beside me, her hand slipping into mine as we glance out at the clouds drifting past.
CHAPTER 26
A HEAVY BURDEN
LILY
The plane lands smoothly,but I barely register it. My focus is on the guys, watching their postures shift under the growing weight of reality. The serenity of The Ranch, the moments we shared, already feels like a distant memory slipping through my fingers.
A van waits for us on the tarmac, its engine humming softly as the driver loads our luggage and we settle into our seats. Once inside, the silence is almost suffocating. Jax stares out the window, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee. His pale skin and shadowed eyes are stark reminders of the battles he’s been fighting. Beside him, Enzo sits with his arms crossed, his jaw tight and his scowl deepening as the miles roll by. Marcus is behind me, his leg bouncing with barely contained energy, while Dylan idly tosses a drumstick into the air, catching it with practiced ease—but even his movements are laced with an underlying stress.
I want to say something, to ease the quiet or offer reassurance, but my own nerves choke the words before theyform. I’m just as anxious about what’s waiting for us as they are.
When the van slows to a stop outside the lot holding our bus, my eyes immediately find Harris. He’s leaning against the side of the bus, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze cutting through the distance. His dark hair is slicked back, and his no-nonsense expression sends a chill through me. There’s no welcome in his stance, no warmth—just the heavy weight of whatever truth he’s about to drop.
“Lily,” Harris calls, his voice clipped and sharp the second I step foot outside. “A word.”
I glance at the guys as they file onto the bus. Enzo pauses, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion, but he doesn’t speak. I force another smile, hoping it’s enough to keep him from asking questions.
“Go ahead,” I say lightly, my voice steadier than I feel. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Harris gestures for me to follow him a few steps away from the bus. The cool breeze does little to calm the storm brewing in my chest.
“What’s going on, Harris?” I ask, trying to sound calm, though my stomach twists into knots. I force myself to meet his gaze, despite the dread curling in my chest like a coiled snake.
He turns to face me, his expression hard and unyielding. The sunlight sharpens the tightness of his features, making him look every bit the seasoned manager burdened with too many fires to put out.
“Lily,” he begins, his voice low but firm, “the label’s patience is gone.”
The words hit me harder than expected, but I forcemyself to stay composed. Things weren’t going well, but they’re going to be better. “The band has been working,” I say quickly, almost pleading. “The Ranch gave everyone time to regroup. They’ve got new music?—”
“It’s not enough,” Harris cuts me off, his voice sharper now. “Jax’s meltdown, canceled shows, delays—it’s all piling up. Revenue is down, and the label isn’t going to wait much longer. This tour is their last shot. If it doesn’t go flawlessly, they’re pulling the plug. One mistake, Lily, and the band is done. Do you understand?”
The enormity of his words crashes down on me, and I struggle to steady my breath.
“We won’t make another mistake,” I whisper, though the promise feels fragile.
Harris softens slightly, but his gaze remains piercing. “You don’t have any room left for error. None. The label’s already looking for a reason to cut you loose, even something minor—a late bus, a missing speaker. They’re watching, and they’re waiting. No more chances.”
I glance toward the bus, where faint laughter filters through the open door. The guys have no idea how precarious our situation is.
“Do they know?” I ask, dreading the answer.
