"Paige." She faces me and the hurt isn't hard to miss, even with her covering it up with a smile.

"Oh, sorry, I was going to say good-bye, but you seemed . . . busy," she sneers, unable to hide her jealousy. I wish it wasn't so nice that me talking to a table full of groupies produces this reaction out of her.

"They're fans; I was just having a beer." I break the distance between us and grab her elbow only to have her move it out of my grip. "Whoa." I step back.

"Don't, Rob." She twists around, her eyes fueled with anger. "Don't act like you don't know exactly what you did in there." She steps flush against me, jamming her finger into my chest. "You've begged me for the past two days to come here." Her head swings back and forth. "Come to my show, see how great I play, I swear I'll make it worth it." She does her best imitation of me. "So I agreed and what do I get for it?"

She flips around and her shoulders rise and fall from the deep intake of breath. I inch forward, placing my hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry," I whisper in her ear and her head falls forward. Incredible guilt piles up and my chest begins to ache for making her upset.

She twists around again; her eyes exhibit something much worse than anger-indifference. She tosses her hand and shrugs her shoulders. "Don't sweat it, Rob. It's who you are and whatever demon you're battling inside; I don't have the time to deal with it. So, go back in there and keep having meaningless hook ups."

I c.o.c.k my head, biting my lip to stop the smirk that wants to sneak out. She's hot when she's all worked up. "See." She places her two hands on my chest and pushes me back. "Guys like you don't change. Do me a favor and ignore me. Don't knock on my door, don't say good morning, and if I'm in the living room just keep walking."

"If I'd known you wanted to f.u.c.k me, Paige, I would have arranged it." Her hand raises and I know what's going to happen before the sting on my skin is felt.

"f.u.c.k you, Rob. It wasn't about f.u.c.king you, it was about friendship, but you are incapable of anyone knowing the true you." I place my hand on my cheek, opening my jaw from her power slap. Girls giggle and whisper behind me. When I reel back around, I spot Drea and her friends smoking next to the building, their eyes on the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Paige." I'm unsure what I'm expecting in this moment. Sure, I've enabled strong outbursts from girls at my actions, but a slap, a push, and her angry voice. She f.u.c.king gives a s.h.i.t about me and the sting gets replaced with warmth. I wish I was the kind of guy who could actually use this knowledge for good, but instead I convince myself to pour it on thicker.

"Whenever you're ready to actually have a meaningful friendship with someone. When you're honest with them and let down the veil you've cast on yourself, talk to me. Otherwise, you're only a typical guitarist who only gives a s.h.i.t about his own needs." She strides down the sidewalk, ignoring the girls' oh's and ah's behind me.

"Paige," I call out to stop her, but she raises her hand, and flips me off.

To save face, I smack on my c.o.c.ky smile and begin to tread back into the bar. When my hand is on the door, Drea saunters over to me, her finger swiping down my stomach. "Now that she's gone, what do you say? A little pre-show workout." She's attractive, I can't ignore that, and she's exactly what I need in this moment. Someone to help me forget what my heart just felt, but this time, I can't. I grab her finger, wrapping my fist around it. She smiles and her eyes glisten with desire that I'm going to get her off in the back room.

Catching Paige's curly hair bounce off her shoulders as she steadily scurries to her car, I let go of Drea's finger. "Not tonight." I open the door and step back into Aces.

"Maybe later," she croons, but the door closes and I squash the urge to tell her not ever.

I BARELY MAKE it to my car before the first tear falls. Why am I crying over someone like Rob? I knew when my heart beat faster during our first encounter, or the b.u.t.terflies that flutter in my stomach as soon as he sits down next to me; it was more than a physical attraction. I've gotten too close, and let him get under my skin. When I'm finally secure in the confines of my car, my fist pounds on the steering wheel. "d.a.m.n him," I yell.

Circling the key in the ignition, I floor the gas, and speed down the street. My mind races with memories of the past two weeks living with Rob. The touches, the nearness, the talks. "Ahhh!" I scream from complete enragement on my stupid crush on a guy who will never reciprocate. One minute I'm convinced we're friends, but whatever this is between us is only growing like an out of control wildfire. My body keeps resisting the advice my mind is giving it and lately, I'm not so sure my mind knows what the h.e.l.l it wants to do with Rob Winters.

I mindlessly drive to my dad's, not even knowing if he's home from tour. When I stop at the gate, I press in the code and the black iron gates open up to a long driveway through a wooded path. A minute later, my dad's mansion appears through the clearing of trees and I park in the circular driveway, noticing the place is lit up.

Hoping I'm not finding him indisposed with someone, I don't use my key. Before I have a chance to knock, my dad opens the door. "Paige." He's wearing his pajama pants and no shirt. His tatted arms and chest prominently on display. "I saw you through the security camera."

My head weaves past him, looking for his "company" for the night and he chuckles lightly. "I'm by myself tonight." We share a smile, realizing I know way more than I should about his s.e.x life. He opens his arms and I rush into his chest too fast, signaling something's wrong. "What's going on, sweetie?" His hand smoothes down my hair and the smell of cigarettes and whiskey calm me. The two disgusting aromas mixed together will always be that of my dad. The one who, as crazy as it is, loves me for me. He gives me the one thing women in his life crave, unconditional and unwavering love.

"Just missed you." Even though it's true because I rarely get any time with him, I came to him tonight, seeking out information from someone so similar to Rob. Why they aren't able to be truthful with their inner self and settle down with someone. Not that I want Rob to say 'I love you,' drop down on a knee, and beg me to marry him. An honest request for a date would be nice instead of s.e.xual innuendos. He toes that friendship line, and just when I'm about to quit fighting myself to stay away from his temptations, he backs off.

He draws back from me, his ringed fingers wrapping around my cheeks. "Are you b.u.t.tering me up?"

"Haha, Dad." I circle out of his embrace and step through the marble foyer into the great room.

Windows line the back, and the illuminated pool in the backyard is like the neon lights in Vegas contrasted around pitch darkness. My dad bought this property when I was probably three, and made Cleveland his permanent residence to be close to me. He built the house facing Lake Erie for privacy, which he seldom receives. Plopping down on the couch, I sprawl out with my feet on the coffee table.

"You want anything, sweetheart?" my dad calls out from the kitchen, and ice cubes clink in the gla.s.s as he pours himself another drink.

"No, I'm good." After the two beers at Aces, I'm not chancing myself to drive.

My dad eyes me as he saunters into the room, fixating on me the entire way to the couch. "You can stay in your old room if you want."

I appreciate the offer, I do, but this s.a.d.i.s.tic side of me has to make sure my words hurt Rob tonight. As sad as it is, I have to know if anyone joins him in his bed. I'm pathetic. "Thanks, Dad." He clicks off the television and leans back on the couch, stretching his legs out on the coffee table just like me.

"You're mighty polite tonight. What's up?" He brings the gla.s.s to his lips and I stare down at my hands in my lap.

"What made you build the home in Cleveland all those years ago?" I ask, fidgeting with my fingers.

"You, of course. You know that." If anything, my dad has been too honest with me most of my life. Although his truthfulness on how much he loves me is great, his honestly about the drugs he's taken and girls waiting in lines outside his room, isn't.

Pushing my luck a little, I ask the question my mom's probably asked herself for years. "Why not, Mom?" He glances at me from the corner of his eye. "How come she wasn't enough?" I bite my lip and he sips his whiskey, debating his answer, I'm sure.

"Paige. It's not that she wasn't enough." He purses his lips together and unhooks his ankles and then crosses them again. He's clearly uncomfortable with my questions and I know why. My mom was a fast one-night screw that ended up with a whoops at the end. "You want the truth, don't you?" He places his drink down, leans his forearms on his knees and twists his head my way.

I nod and he mimics it in a slow motion. "Paige, you know the reputation I've earned. The papers don't lie; I am who they label me. I met your mom one night and obviously we . . . conceived you."

"You make it sound so innocent." I laugh and he smiles.

"Well, the truth is, your mom was a groupie. She followed the band that summer. She saw who I was and what I was about." He runs his hands down his hair, securing his long curly hair into a ponytail again. "When she contacted me months later to tell me about you, I believed it was a hoax. You know, something to get more attention."

"Your worst nightmare came true, huh?" I giggle, but he looks at me straight faced.

"Paige, you're the best thing that happened to me." He's lying, but I'll play along, so I remain silent. "I'm serious. After the paternity test, I tried to make it work with your mom, but we both knew I was incapable of change. I left so she could have a future and find someone who would love her for her." He makes it all sound so nice and grateful, when I'm the one who witnessed my mom throwing herself at my dad time and time again when she dropped me off or picked me up on his time. The short skirts and revealing tops she stuffed herself into to grab his attention. The pawing, the meals to entice him to stay, all so when he left, she'd crumble and fall into a depression for days.

"Do you think you'll ever find someone who's worth giving up other girls for?" He c.o.c.ks his eyebrow at me. We both know he's not the prince charming on a white horse sort of guy. He's more, I'll screw you senseless and we'll party until we pa.s.s out, or I kick you out.

"What's up, Paige? You're beating around the bush pretty hard here. Is this about a guy?" His shoulders relax a little, and he sinks into the couch more.

"No, I'm just wondering. I mean, did you have some sort of horrible past and you use s.e.x to feel loved?" I grasp at straws, and a loud billowing laugh escapes out of him.

"Nope. Raised in the suburbs with Grandma and Grandpa. Just love women. That's it." He's so easy, I wish he were capable of a settled down life. Rarely spending time with him when I was younger unless he wasn't on tour, brought an ache for me to have him in my life. Not to mention caring for a mom who could barely get out of bed. "If anything, you should be the one skipping through beds. Daddy issues and all."

I shake my head and scoff. "Isn't that the truth? My life wasn't exactly like Full House."

"But Paige, whatever's going on in that woman brain of yours, trust your instincts. They are usually right. You're a bright girl and you'll make a good decision." He smiles. "Who knows, maybe I haven't found my one and only."

"The problem I have, maybe not everyone wants to find them," I say, patting his leg as I stand up to stare out the window.

"Paige, spend the night. I've never seen you so conflicted. Tell your old man what's going on." He stands up and his reflection through the gla.s.s shows him stalking toward me.

Turning around, his eyebrows drawing together show how concerned I'm making him. "There's just this guy, my roommate."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

I laugh. "Yep and that's why we're going to stop there and I'm going to leave." I begin roaming back to the door. "Sorry for interrupting you."

"You never interrupt me, baby. I'm going back on tour in a few weeks. Come by and have dinner before." I rotate around when I reach the big wooden doors, and he's smiling down at me.

"Sure."

"You have enough money?" His eyes look me up and down. "You need new clothes? Anything, just ask. You know that." He a.s.sures me, but I hate asking for so much from him. I know he can afford it, but he pays my tuition, my car, my rent, practically my mom's rent with the extra. My dad has never once lied to me. As hurtful as the truth was to hear, he never skirted around a rumor or anything in his life. I'm not about to deceive him and take more money from him to put in the hands of my mother, that would be dishonest. I already have guilt for giving her part of my monthly allowance.

"I know, Dad. Thanks." I smile and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. Inhaling his scent one more time, I back away and open the door.

"I love you, kid." He places his pointer finger under my chin and brings it up. "Since the day you were born." He winks and a small smile begins to form across my lips.

"I love you, too." I step out of my dad's house more confused than when I walked in. He's living proof that stereotypes are gray. No one would believe that Greg Thompson, lead guitarist of The Raptures, was sweet and kind. He's known for the fights he gets into, trashing hotel rooms, and sleeping with every groupie that lines up outside his door. But with his out-of-wedlock daughter, he's gentle, caring, and loves with his whole heart.

Pulling out of his driveway, I'm alarmed when another car's headlights shine in my view. When I stop, wanting to check if it's Hank or Len, his band mates, I spot a bleach-blonde not much older than myself circling through. She catches me and slams on her brakes, shooting me a death stare before speeding up the paved path.

Some things will never change.

Driving the hour back to campus, flickers of Rob's multiple personalities flash in my brain. He's so nice and attentive sometimes. Then one word or movement and it's like I'm back to square one with him. I'm not sure I want the drama in my life, but for some reason he lures me to him. As though he's weaving a web around me and I can't free myself from his grip. Worse is that I'm not sure I want to.

I'VE SEARCHED MY brain all night to figure out how to get Paige to forgive me. It was an a.s.shole move and I knew it the minute I left that stage. The problem is, when anyone tugs at my heart, it's a reflex to drive that person away. For some reason though, with Paige, I give a s.h.i.t what she thinks of me.

After we played our set, I left Aces and came back home with the hope she'd be sprawled on the couch watching television. She wasn't, so I holed myself up in my room, flipping through channels on the television until I heard her car, followed by her footsteps through the back door and trudging up the stairs. Her shadow was visible outside my door, and I hoped for a moment she'd knock, I'd apologize, and we could go back to the budding friendship we started. Instead she continued down the hall and her door silently shut. I lay awake most of the night, rehashing all the reasons to stay away from our escalating flirtatious relationship. To distance myself from her, let her realize the a.s.shole I am.

When the shower starts up, I escape my room and go downstairs. Dex and Chrissy are still sleeping soundly after staying out most of the night with Sadie and Brady. I scramble her eggs runny like she prefers, toast a few pieces of bread and place the plate on the table with a gla.s.s of orange juice. Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, I jot down a small note, and disappear to my garage.

Why can't I allow her to believe in the false persona I mask for everyone else?

With it still being so early, I position my earbuds in and crank up Linkin Park. Rolling under my car, I double-check she's good for racing tonight. Drag racing has been my release since last year. You'd think the opposite, that after the accident with Carly, I'd never purposely speed, but the high speeds and winning, distract me until the end. The control I manifest with the steering wheel in my palms when I cross that finish line, and the fact my body is intact p.i.s.ses me off. My therapist says it's normal, some lame excuse of a survivor's guilt. She a.s.sures me it will end, but I desperately want the imprisonment of my happiness to remain with me for the rest of my life.

Drowning in my problems, I'm abruptly yanked from under the car. Before I practically roll down the d.a.m.n driveway, my feet skid the wheels to a stop. "What the f.u.c.k?" I stand up, tearing out my earbuds, and scowl to the responsible party.

There she stands, smirking while she taps the white piece of paper against her lips. "So."

As happy I am to see her denying the smile that wants to break from her lips and the fact she's about to forgive me for last night elates me, the other Rob perches strong on my shoulder to squash it.

I trail back up the driveway, with my roller tucked under my grip. "So? You almost killed me." I toss the cart against the cement and grab a wrench.

"Deservedly so." I catch the shrug of her shoulders on the way back over to the car. Opening the hood, I distract myself from her long legs.

"Paige, I'm an a.s.s. What can I say, except that I'll be one again?" She reads my note word for word and I hide the smirk that wants to break. "Not very apologetic if you ask me." She raises her eyebrows and sits down in the white plastic chair, propping her foot up, hugging her leg into her body.

From the corner my eye, I spot her upper thigh exposed now and I shift my stance to adjust myself. "I said I was sorry last night, and you still walked away."

She stands up and leans over the car. "I was mad. I'm not a very good talker when I get angry." She places her hand on my hand. "Thank you for breakfast."

I face her; amazed she's going to let this go. Not dig into it twenty times over. "That's it?" I ask her and she smiles, nodding her head.

"Yep." She begins walking out of the garage and suddenly this rush of wanting her near overtakes me.

"Wait!" I call out and she spins around. Jesus, her nipples are practically popping out on display from the morning chill in the air. Breaking the distance, I try to keep my eyes focused on her face. "What are you doing tonight?" Not sure why the question even comes out, but it does.

Her feet shuffle, and my eyes remain fixed on her lips. Her tongue snakes out and I'm positive my d.i.c.k just saluted. But not wanting to check, I patiently wait for her to answer. "Um . . ." She stalls and can I really blame her.

"I swear to you, I'll make up for last night." I reach for her hand but she wraps it around her stomach. s.h.i.t, there are her t.i.ts again, begging for my attention.

"Breakfast was enough, thank you." She nods, twisting around and disappears into the house.

I don't go after her; instead I stand in the driveway regretting every decision I've made when it comes to her. When I finally come back to present, I step into the garage and throw the socket wrench at the wall. "f.u.c.k," I mutter. Pacing back and forth along the length of my Mustang, I contemplate what the h.e.l.l to do. Maybe a drive out to my hometown, talk to my mom would do the trick. Something to confirm the nightmare I made and convince me to stay the h.e.l.l away from Paige. Leave her intact for someone else to love instead of the torment I'm sure to drag her through.

Noticing Dex's truck blocking my way, I sit on the chair, my leg bouncing a mile a minute. f.u.c.k, what am I supposed to do? I want her to come with me, watch me race.

"You're thinking pretty d.a.m.n hard there." Brady runs up the driveway, panting.

I roll my eyes at the sweat dripping down his face. "Did you turn the wrong way?" I don't peer up to him, and he walks over to the fridge and grabs a water. "Help yourself."

"Don't mind if I do." He twists the bottle open and I really hope he doesn't lecture me today. I'm not in the mood for it. I swear him and my mom have phone conversations about me.

He sits down on the garage floor and stares up at me. "So, I have a question for you." I glance through the corner of my eye and suck in a deep breath.

"What?" I sigh and sit up straighter in the chair.

"Will you be a groomsman?" He smiles and I do to. Although marriage might not be in the cards for me, it suits Brady. He and Sadie had that ever after thing lined up a month after meeting.

"Really going through with it? The whole forever until death thing," I razz him and he chuckles. I'm envious of the guy, no qualms whatsoever. He's a different guy than me though, that's for sure.

"Yep. I am."

"Sadie okay with it?"

"Yeah, she's fine with it. There's only one thing." His lips straighten and I know the favor before it leaves his mouth. "Grant is my best man."

I scratch my head, knowing I need to make amends with Grant and Jessa eventually, but the thought of doing so is as welcoming as an electric chair. "I'll go over there this week." Brady's done way too much for me not to reciprocate.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." He stands up, stretching his legs. "It's about time we get it all done with anyway, and my wedding is the perfect occasion." He laughs and I don't.

"You do know it's the event of the year. I mean people can't stop waiting by their mailboxes for the invitation," I joke, because Sadie has gone overboard on this wedding planning. When I lived over there, I swear she was on the phone everyday with someone about a mundane detail.

"She just wants it perfect." Brady excuses his fiancee's bridezilla mannerisms.

"Yeah, I know." I stand up, stepping toward him. "Thank you, I'm honored you asked." He nods and smiles.

"Sadie had so many girls, I had to fill in." A small smirk crosses his lips and we both know neither one of us are going to be sappy about this s.h.i.t. He asked and I accepted. The end.

"I'll take care of it." I inhale a deep breath, running my hand over my face. "I may bring Sadie with me."

His eyes light up. "That's a good idea, actually. Let me know when you-"

I wave him off. "No, I got this," I a.s.sure him and he nods.

"Okay, well now you'll be added to the email list. Prepare yourself, you get info daily." He shrugs his shoulders because he has no control of Sadie's actions.

Never wanting to give him too hard of a time with his fiancee, I shout down the driveway. "I'll welcome them."