Annie rolls my ring between her thumb and finger, head resting on my shoulder. “I think we should cancel the Vegas show. Until we figure out what’s going on with you.”
I tense. “That’s not necessary.”
“Chase—”
“That was a one-off. I had too much whiskey, my meds wore off, and I lost my footing.”
“I never saw you drinking.”
My jaw clenches. I hate lying to her, but I don’t want her to worry. To think I’m going to hold us back. Her career is resting on my shoulders. Tag’s too. Rock, Zach, even Kenna. We’re in our prime, gaining momentum every day, and the only thing that’ll kill me faster than my head is the notion that I might be the reason it all falls apart.
I refuse to be the one to smother their dreams.
Removing the compress from my forehead, I toss it onto a pillow. “We’ll do Vegas,” I tell her. “It’s our last scheduled show.”
Her breath catches. “Chase, please reconsider—”
“One more. Then we break. House hunt. Breathe. Reconnect.” I pull her across my chest as Toaster paws at my side, nosing my ribs. “After that, I’ll handle it. The band can pause for a while, and I’ll be back on my feet soon. I’ll be okay.”
“What if it’s something…worse?” Her breathing all but stops.
It’s not.
Itcan’tbe.
“They’re just migraines,” I tell her with as much conviction as I can muster. “My family has a history of them. I can manage this. One day at a time.”
“Promise me you’ll get a scan after Vegas.” She burrows her face in my neck, begging, needing me to swear. “Please, Chase.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, kissing her hair. My eyes close as I breathe her in, memorize her soft skin, and stamp her scent into my bones. “I promise.”
***
Vegas is a dream. Another much-needed reprieve.
But the last time I had a reprieve, I plunged off a goddamn stage and faceplanted into a swarming mass of people.
At first they thought it was part of the show—rock star takes a dive, crowd goes wild.
Meanwhile, I was sprawled on the ground and twice as pathetic, choking on static and sweat, praying no one saw the panic in my eyes.
Or worse, that I couldn’t see theirs, not until my vision sparked back to life.
But sure. Let’s roll the dice in Vegas.
What could possibly go wrong?
So far, nothing. Not for the hour-plus set where I pour everything out, let my soul bleed across the stage, feel the reverb like red-hot shockwaves licking down my spine, and duet with Annie as if we’re invincible.
The crowd’s electric. My girl’s glowing.
The guys are shredding like their lives depend on it, while I’m praying I make it to the last note before the lights go out again.
I do.
I finish the set, alive and whole, dancing on thunder as the crowd roars.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear my sister’s voice:
