Vander nods once.
I don’t know whether we’re making the right choice. Actually, I’m pretty sure we’re making a terrible one. Yet the thought of watching someone else touch her, chase her, fuck her is not an option I can live with.
“We’re doing this my way. Complete control and safety. The second it becomes a problem, we stop,” I tell them.
“Deal,” Rhodes says.
I look at Vander. He meets my eyes and gives another slight nod.
We’re really doing this. Maybe through some stroke of luck, Maddie will change her mind, and nothing will come of it. I have worked for her father, Julian, for almost five years, and the first few years, I was security for the band. He trusted me to take over with Maddie after the first incident at one of the concerts, and for the last ten months I have kept her safe. I really fucking hope this doesn’t ruin everything I have worked so hard to build.
Chapter Three
Maddie
I stare at the Wild Steps confirmation email on my phone for the third time today. When I didn’t hear anything straight away, I figured Ace had vetoed the idea with Archer, and it wasn’t going ahead.
Your fantasy has been approved. Tonight, at 11 p.m., be ready.
I filled out the form with Riley over FaceTime, and we went through all the questions, some of which were: What are your hard limits? What’s your safe word? How rough are you comfortable having sex? Please give examples.
But now that I’m in the back of the SUV, heading to Kade’s band practice, the reality of what I’ve signed up for is sinking in.
Strangers. In masks. Chasing me through the woods.
The thought should scare me after everything I have been through, yet it doesn’t. It sounds freeing.
My thighs clench involuntarily at the thought.
“You good back there?” Rhodes asks from the driver’s seat, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.
“Fine.” I lock my phone and shove it back in my bag. “Just checking my messages.”
Ace shifts in the passenger seat but doesn’t turn around. He’s being unusually quiet, even for him. I wonder if he’s still pissed about the club; he hates it when I get drunk.
The warehouse studio comes into view. Kade’s band has been practicing here for years, even though he now has access to the best studio spaces in town. This is one of the few places where I can exist without feeling like I’m under a microscope.
Rhodes parks and immediately scans the area before he gets out. Ace is already opening my door, his hand extended, and today I take it because arguing about every little thing is exhausting.
“Three hours,” Ace says. “Vander’s already inside.”
“I know the drill.” I sling my camera bag over my shoulder.
Inside, the familiar sound of instruments being tuned fills the air. Kade’s hunched over his guitar, and the rest of the band members are scattered around the space. My eyes immediately find Finn at the drums, and he lights up when he sees me.
“Mads!” He drops his sticks and bounds over, all lanky limbs and infectious energy. “Thank fuck, I was dying of boredom.”
He throws an arm over my shoulders and pulls me against his side, pressing a kiss to my temple. Finn and I have been close since he joined the band a few years ago.
“Missed you at poker night last week,” Finn says as he guides me toward the worn couch against the wall. “Kade cleaned everyone out. I’m convinced he’s counting cards.”
“Kade can barely count to ten,” I retort with a laugh, settling onto the couch.
Finn flops down beside me, keeping his arm draped over my shoulders.
I glance up and find Ace standing near the door, his gray eyes locked on where Finn’s arm rests across my shoulders. His jaw is tight, his stance rigid, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
He looks jealous.
