Everybody watched the fighting between us, even though we tried to keep a low profile. We turned into a joke and I did everything I could to make Riley stay away from me. Then she left the tour and life was easier without her around.

Will teased the h.e.l.l out of me about Riley appearing again, and I bit back the desire to tell him to shut the f.u.c.k up. All that would do is confirm her being here bothers me. Why? I've avoided Riley this long, and the person created in my mind is a thousand times worse than she probably is. As is my aversion to her. Oh yeah, we have a truckload of unfinished business I have no interest in dealing with. She can stay the h.e.l.l away from me.

I lie back on the bed, half-watching a music channel as Sophia showers. The water splashes and I toy with the idea of joining her but I can't be bothered getting wet. Later. I shift, the thought of her soaped body waking up my d.i.c.k. Maybe when she gets out of the shower she can sort that out. One thing in her favour, she gives good head and pretty much anytime I ask her to.

Yep, this girl's every man's fantasy.

Should I keep this semi-relationship going longer than the tour?

Sophia appears, white towel wrapped around her body, brown hair combed away from her perfectly symmetrical face seen in magazines across the world.

"You okay, baby?" she asks.

I prop myself up on my elbows and she crosses to the bed. Pushing her damp hair to one side, I kiss her neck. "I'm good."

"What time are we meeting everybody?"

"Couple of hours. Good thing because I know how long it takes you to get ready." I slap Sophia's a.s.s and she giggles as the towel slips.

My hardening d.i.c.k in my briefs catches her eye. "Nate Campbell, what have you been thinking about?" She turns her head to the TV. "Have you been watching p.o.r.n again?"

"Just imagining you in the shower, sweetheart." I drag her towards me, and as she trips I pull her towel away.

She places a hand on my naked chest. "You should've joined me." Sophia's eyes gleam as her slender fingers slide into the front of my briefs.

"Too tired." I lie back and stretch my hands above my head.

"Let me take care of that for you," she murmurs.

See? I don't even need to ask.

But why the h.e.l.l does Riley's face appear in my mind?

RILEY.

Nate arrives with Sophia Lambert on his arm and when they sit at the table with us, I force a smile. Stunning, beautiful couple. She's as tall as Nate. Her clinging blue dress matches her sapphire eyes, the perfection in her appearance as if she's spent an evening with a make-up artist. Sleek brown hair is swept over one shoulder and a large diamond pendant sparkles against her bronzed skin, above her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The perfume she advertises drifts my way as she reaches for a tall-stemmed gla.s.s before nudging Nate. He pours her champagne, but doesn't offer anybody else at the table.

I take a surrept.i.tious glance at him when he's pouring the wine, convincing myself my heart-racing reaction is dislike and not desire. I wouldn't be the only girl in the room pulled in by Nate's presence; Sophia certainly is. She places a hand over his and squeezes.

The whole band was due to meet in the hotel restaurant, where we're seated away from other diners beneath the dim lights. So far, Ruby's too tired to come and Jax is distracted by his phone. No Tegan. Will and Fleur are the only people engaging with me; but as usual, Will's interactions with me hold hidden meaning and teasing.

He introduces me to Fleur, a perfect example of opposites attract. She's pretty, delicate features, and has an innocence about her that doesn't match the not-very-innocent Will. Maybe that's the attraction. He's clearly smitten by the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl; and they've been together over a year, so my judgement is out of order. At least she's friendly.

"What's this for, then?" asks Nate, avoiding my eyes.

"A happy reunion!" says Will with a grin. "I can't believe it's been two years since we had the pleasure of your company, Riley."

Will nudges me and I prepare to scowl at him, but his smile is genuine.

"I thought it would be good for me to catch up with the band and discuss any concerns you may have."

Jax looks up. He's another one who hasn't changed apart from his self-a.s.sured c.o.c.kiness, which has somehow increased, as witnessed in the meeting earlier. He purses his lips and runs a hand through his messy, blond hair. This guy's photogenic looks and position as front man have led to clashes between us in the past because I think the teen heartthrob angle is a huge part of the band's success. Jax would like to think all his and Ruby Riot's success comes from his musical ability. Yes, he has that in spades, but the potential of three seriously attractive guys in one band makes my job easier.

"What? I thought this was to relax not a b.l.o.o.d.y business meeting," he complains.

"A meeting in a relaxed atmosphere." Because I couldn't persuade all of them at once into a conference room at the hotel. They're behaving like a bunch of kids hiding from me.

"Well, I don't have any concerns." Jax stands. "I guess I can go, then?"

"No way, man. We suffer this together," replies Nate.

Jax slumps back down. "How come Ruby gets a hall pa.s.s?"

I grip the tablecloth. "I don't mean a real meeting, just a chat over a meal. I'm interested in your feedback on how the tour went."

"Are you ever out of business mode?" asks Nate.

I ignore him.

"Seriously, mostly it's just because I need a drink," I say.

Is that stunned silence? Sophia giggles and holds up her gla.s.s. "Good idea!"

G.o.d, I wish Tegan was here. And I really do need a drink. Mum called earlier because Josh is kicking off about me not being home, and my guilt multiplied.

Sophia doesn't eat much, and I'm not hungry either. The wine goes down nicely though. The tension around the table retreats. After less than five minutes chatting about publicity, the group switch to stories about the tour.

Fleur's friendly, closer in age and interests to me. I get the impression she enjoys having somebody else on the edge of the band to speak to. As the conversation progresses, it's also clear I'm guilty of judging Sophia as an airhead when she holds a better conversation than most. Apart from dating Nate Campbell, that's not too smart.

When an awkward silence inevitably descends, I excuse myself for the bathrooms. To my dismay, Sophia follows.

"They're intimidating," she whispers as we head to the rear of the restaurant.

"Only if you let them."

Sophia intrigues me. Any girl who falls for Nate does.

Then I shake the thought. Nate's right. I'm thinking too much about him.

The porcelain-tiled bathrooms gleam as if they've never been used, square silver sinks set into the marble counters beneath the long mirror Sophia checks herself in.

As Sophia touches up her deep pink lipstick, I itch to ask her about Nate. See? Thinking about the man way too much.

"I'm heading overseas after the tour ends," Sophia tells me. "States, Europe..."

"Oh?"

"I have a huge opportunity with Sketch. You know, the new clothing brand. They need a face for their launch and chose me. I can't believe how lucky I am!" She rubs the corner of her mouth with an index finger. "I'm not sure how Nate's going to feel."

Feel? "About you going?"

"Yes. We're getting close and I think he really likes me."

In the mirror, I compare her perfect face and body to mine. I'm no model, but amongst ordinary people, I'd call myself reasonably attractive, which helps in my industry. Looks shouldn't matter but they do. I wore my hair down tonight, and next to her, it looks dull. Her sleek, dark hair shines as if somebody follows her shining a light on it.

"That's a surprise."

Her perfectly plucked brow tugs together. "What is?"

"Nate. He doesn't get close to girls."

"Oh, right. Yes." She smooths her hair. "Nate told me about you."

I stiffen. "What? When?"

"Earlier. He explained you'd be weird around him because you used to have a thing."

"A thing? Is that what he calls it?" I laugh. "No, we didn't have a thing. We never got that far."

"Oh. Right." She offers me a sweet smile. "Well, we're together, and I'm not sure how to handle breaking up with Nate."

Whoa. Her breaking up with him?

Not good.

"You and Nate must be close if that worries you."

"Yes. I mean Nate's never told me he loves me, but I think he feels something. He must do because we've been together a month."

I bite back a smile. "True, that counts as five years to normal people."

I highly doubt she's been his only girl in that month, but has Nate broken his own rules about getting close to people?

"I mean, I like him and would think about keeping things going, but Nate can be weird sometimes."

"That's one way of putting it."

"He switches off. Hot and cold."

"That's Nate."

Sophia changes to reapplying mascara. "I read this article the other day, about guys who are commitment-phobes. Like Nate."

Would it be rude to walk away? I hate hanging round in bathrooms chatting, especially this topic. "I don't think you need to read an article to figure that one out."

"But it's an actual thing." She turns to me. "He has issues."

I stare at the beautiful, smart girl. If Nate pushes her away, I agree he has issues. Looks like the choice may be made for him. "I don't think that's the only issue he has."

And why am I wasting my time talking about Nate? Changing the subject to what dessert I'm going to choose, I walk out of the bathrooms and Sophia follows.

I watch the pair with interest. Nate's met my eyes twice all evening and immediately looked away each time. His attentiveness to Sophia is either the hot in his hot and cold behaviour or a display for my benefit. Sure, Riley, why would Nate do that?

For somebody about to break up with him, Sophia's equally attentive and I struggle where to look when, while she chats to me, Nate's hand slides under the table. Sophia's eyes widen and she whispers something to him. I cringe. Nate always was a b.l.o.o.d.y cliche.

This behaviour shouldn't annoy me, but it does. I made a point by sitting down with the band tonight, to prove I'm able to let the past differences go, but why the h.e.l.l does the situation hang over me still? I chat to Fleur, intrigued that a girl managed to tie one of the twins down.

"Yes, and I thought the twin was Nate at first," says Fleur and jabs Will in the ribs with her elbow.

"Do they still do that?" I ask. Last time I was around the band, the twins were well known for swapping ident.i.ties. Until Will changed his image slightly the two were impossible to tell apart unless their tattoos were showing. They tried pretending one was the other with me a couple of times, but they never fooled me longer than a few conversations.

Will scrunches up his nose. "Don't tell Riley."

Fleur turns away from Will and lowers her voice. "They're very different people. I don't think Nate liked me getting close to Will. He's still a bit odd with me."

"Because you stole his brother?" I say with a smile.

"Don't joke, it was like that. Like I stole a part of Nate too. " Fleur glances up at Nate who's focused on Sophia.

"I don't think Nate is comfortable with being Nate. I think he preferred being a Ruby Riot twin."

"I had that impression. He's definitely not as laid back as his brother anymore."

"Jax and Ruby used to be the focus of the band. Now they're well known every band member gets individual attention. Maybe he's not comfortable with that, but I think it suits him sometimes." I incline my head to Sophia.

"That's very true." Fleur gives a small shake of the head. "I can't see he'll stay with her much longer. Not his style."

Will chats to Jax, his hand over Fleur's the whole time. He turns to ask if she's okay and then kisses her forehead when she nods. Though they're less demonstrative than Nate and Sophia, the natural intimacy and mirrored gestures speaks volumes about their relationship. They're in love. Nate isn't.

Jax makes his excuses within minutes of finishing his meal, leaving me in an awkward position. Fleur tries to include me in conversation; but in time, each couple switch focus to each other.

Refusing to show how uncomfortable I am at hovering on the edge as the fifth person, I make my excuses and leave.

Nine p.m.

The prospect of a long night alone in the hotel room propels me to the hotel bar instead.

4.