He glanced at the ceiling and recited a couple of lines. “The sizzling chemistry between Zane and Claudia is palpable, raw—something not to be contained. If I were Mike or Sienna, I’d be terrified.”
Claudia’s shoulders dropped, and a wave of nausea hit her. “Oh, God, how could he write that? Doesn’t he know what that’ll do to us?”
“His job isn’t to care about you. It’s to sell magazines, and that shit’ll sell.”
The sound of Mike’s feet slapping against the tile floor caused Claudia to stiffen up.
“Oh! It’s here?!” he asked, hurrying over, bare-chested in a pair of loose jeans.
When he tried to take the magazine, Dean held it firmly. “Listen, you know that these guys like to stir the pot, right?”
Shrugging, Mike said, “Obviously. They always have to say something shitty.” He glanced at Claudia, then narrowed his eyes, his voice becoming deadly quiet. “Give me the fucking magazine.”
Dean handed it over and tried to step inside. “Why don’t I stay for a bit?”
“That would be great,” Claudia answered, her heart already pounding.
Mike’s skin turned dark red as he stared at the cover. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Look man, they’re trying to make something out of?—”
Without looking up, Mike pushed the door shut in Dean’s face, leaving Claudia alone with an angry, hungover, emasculated, and jealous man.
ZANE
Zane woke that afternoon to a phone call from his pissed-off wife. She saw the magazine before he did, which meant he couldn’t prepare for it. His answers were sleepy and stupid and sunk him further into a hole he’d need to dig out of, but fast. The road was hell for a married man. Simply being gone was cause for feminine rage, even though he was doingit for his family. Not that Sienna would see it that way. Especially not now, after that God-awful article. There she was at home, holding down the fort, taking care of every need their three children had while he was off with ‘her,’ cozying up on stage and doing who knows what with her behind closed doors.
He couldn’t explain it away. Not without seeing the damn article or the pictures himself. But even if he had, he couldn’t have convinced her that there was nothing to it. She knew him better than his own mother. He was glad they were on the phone because every facial expression, even the slightest shift in his brow, imperceptible to anyone else, would speak volumes to his wife.
His feelings for Claudia grew steadily, the tour only serving to accelerate his attraction to a breaking point. He was miserable. He couldn’t live without her, and he couldn’t have her. Not without blowing up his entire life—his career, his marriage, and his reputation. His friendship with Mike—the one person he’d counted on since he was a kid—would end. So, Zane kept it all bottled up inside, waiting to get bored of her.
It’s not that he wanted to have a life with Claudia, because he didn’t. He still loved Sienna with his whole heart. But his soul—his creative center—wanted her. She had resurrected his career, as he knew she would.
If only theirs was a world where he could have them both and they’d all agree that it was best for everyone. Then, instead of this simmering desire that tormented him everywhere he went, he’d be calm again. He’d feel like he did in his prime, when he was younger and cockier and everything was so fucking easy. Back when the band felt like a cohesive unit, with the guys blindly following his lead, trusting his intuition. They used to be the lucky ones. People in thebusiness marveled at them for staying in sync all these years. Now they were just another fractured band with fragile egos and too much water under the bridge. None of that was Claudia’s fault though. Things were on the rocks before she showed up in their lives. Only Zane knew the truth. She had saved them.
But his need to be with her was upsetting the delicate balance that kept the band going. Mike could tell. He’d picked up on it all those months ago when he walked in on them singing together at the studio. And he’d never trusted him fully again. It was insulting. It was unreasonable. It was accurate.
So, Zane promised himself he’d never cross the line. Never betray his best friend. Never give in, no matter what happened between Claudia and Mike. In his best moments, when things were good at home, Zane was happy for Mike, who had finally found a woman he wanted to be with for life. In his worst moments, Zane was petty and jealous and furious that he had to hide his feelings. After all, he was the one who saw something special in Claudia. He should’ve gotten first dibs. He was the talent behind their success—the frontman, the face and voice of a band that repeatedly knocked the Stones and U2 off the charts. Footage of him alone filled their music videos, and it was Zane’s poster hanging on bedroom walls of teenage girls around the world. Not Mike’s. Without Zane, Mike would be back in Spokane working as a driver’s ed instructor or a plumber. Mike should be eternally grateful. He should’ve known that Zane chose Claudia for himself, and that he needed her to keep it all going for the rest of them.
The moment they showed up at the stadium that day, Zane knew things were as bad as he feared. Mike had made an excuse about Claudia running late so they wouldn’t beable to go in the limo with Zane, Rusty, and Steve. The ride over was quiet, with both of his buddies avoiding eye contact with him. He could’ve chosen to say something, but he didn’t. Screw ‘em if they didn’t understand. When Mike walked onto the stage for rehearsal, Claudia was following several paces behind, like a commoner who’d married a king. The sight of it made Zane’s hands ball up into tight fists.
Mike stalked past Zane over to his guitar, then picked it up and slung the strap over his shoulder without a word. Zane glanced over at Steven in time to see him exchange a ‘here we go’ look with Rusty. Claudia took her place at a microphone near the drum kit, where she stood for most of their songs, out of the way, there to support the band without shining too brightly.
It was late afternoon, and the sun beat down on the stage, causing a trickle of sweat to slide down Zane’s spine. The heat and humidity suffocated him, which seemed like the perfect metaphor for his life right now. A distant clap of thunder warned them the show might have to be canceled, while at the same time adding a spark to the already charged air.
The crew was still putting the final touches on the elaborate stage, finishing the last of the three small satellite stages that were connected to the main stage by long bridges. On the stadium floor, a smattering of employees set up chairs as quietly as possible, all of whom were watching while hoping they didn’t look like that’s what they were doing. A handful of reporters stood near the front, taking photos and notes, and chatting with the radio DJs that were lucky enough to get in for rehearsal. Dean was backstage quietly going over instructions with the stage manager.
Mike and Rusty tuned their guitars. No one said hello toeach other. No one smiled. No one joked about the stifling heat. That stupid article hung over them like a cloud, heavy with rain. When Dean finally walked out, it was a relief. He would calm things down. That’s what Dean did.
Only this time, he didn’t.
He held copies of the setlist in his hand. He gave one to Claudia first, then Rusty and Steven. “You’ll notice I’ve changed it a bit for tonight.”
Zane’s head snapped back. “And you think you can do that, why exactly?”
Dean handed the page to Mike, then brought it to Zane, glaring while he chewed his gum. “Because I’m the manager, and sometimes you guys need managing.”
Snatching the paper from Dean’s hand, he scanned it, only to see Claudia’s song had been removed, and in its place was ‘Faded Denim.’ He thrust the page back at him. “Nope. Not happening.”
