Page 24

“Why is everyone talking so loudly this early in the morning?” Jackson grumbled as he climbed out of his bunk, scratching at the trail of hair below his belly button, his sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Nico said

“You guys want to go get coffee?” Zach asked.

Jackson pulled open the cabinet, retrieving a nearly empty bottle of bourbon and taking a swig. Kat gaped, her eyes flicking to Beckett as if to ask if this was normal.

“Jacks, use a fucking glass,” Beckett said.

Jackson wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He shrugged, setting the bottle down on the table, nearly demolishing Gideon’s house of cards. “Hair of the dog,” he mumbled before disappearing into the small bathroom at the back of the bus.

“So… coffee?” Nico asked.

“What about Logan?” Zach asked.

Nico shook his head as he pulled on a shirt. “Let him sleep. The old man took a muscle relaxer for his back last night. He’ll be out cold for another hour at least.”

Beckett’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his sweatpants at the same time as Kat’s dinged. He dug his phone out to find a text from Jo.

Jo: Good morning, love birds. Enjoy your day off but make sure you’re in the lobby at 7:00 tonight. I’ll have outfits sent to your room at the hotel.

Kat exchanged a confused glance with Beckett before tapping out a reply.

Kat: What for?

Jo: Your engagement photos!

Kat spent the whole day trying to come up with a reason she couldn’t take engagement photos with Beckett—aside from the fact that their engagement wasn’t real. Thankfully, she’d had most of the day to herself in the hotel room she and Beckett would share that night, the guys having spent the day with a legendary guitar maker known for his handmade instruments. At least she didn’t have to act like it was totally normal to share a hotel room with the brooding pop star while also having a mini existential crisis.

Because not only was she about to take engagement photos—photos Jo fully intended to release to every media outlet and plaster all over the band’s social media—but she’d woken up wrapped in Beckett’s arms.

And she hadn’t hated it.

Being tucked against his chest, her face nestled in the hollow of his throat, his legs tangled with hers. She’d wanted to burrow deeper into his embrace, to soak in the warmth of his bare skin against hers, to map the tattoos across his chest and arms with her tongue—

Stupid Beckett and his stupid perfect arms making her almost forget how much he’d hurt her. Years of therapy and convincing herself that it hadn’t been as good as she remembered, that he hadn’t known her so well, that they hadn’t loved each other so deeply, and all it took was a few sentences, mere crumbs of vulnerability, and one night sleeping in his arms for her stupid hormones to put her back at square one? Absolutely fucking not. Especially since she had so much more to lose this time around than just her heart.

If this was going to work, if she was going to pretend to be his fiancée and make nice and sleep next to him, for God’s sake, she needed to remember this was all temporary. They both wanted something, and this was a means to an end. Nothing more.

And if she was going to remember, they were going to need rules. Chief among them: no cuddling.

“Stop overthinking it. This is good for both of you,” Jo said when Kat finally broke down and called her that afternoon.

“I don’t understand why we need to take engagement photos. Didn’t the paparazzi at the party already get enough photos of us?” Kat groaned, flopping dramatically on her hotel bed.

“You gotta feed the beast, babe.”

“I just want this whole thing to be over so I can focus on writing my book.”

“You will soon enough. And this way, not only will you have the bonus cash to finance your badass author life, you’ll also have a whole new fan base who want to read your books.”

“They don’t want to read my books. They want to hunt for clues about Beckett,” Kat said, twisting the engagement ring on her finger. She still wasn’t used to the weight of it on her hand, the sudden glints of gold and sparkle she’d catch out of the corner of her eye from time to time.

“Maybe that’s what brings them to the table, but then they’ll fall in love with your stories. Who cares what gets them to pick one up in the first place? A win is a win.”

“But engagement photos and press releases? It’s all so… public.”

Jo laughed. “You are engaged to one of the biggest pop stars of our generation.”