24

"I don't like this," I say for the fortieth time, and for the fortieth time, I'm met with a sassy eyeroll.

"You said you have work to do, and I won't let you reschedule for my sake. I'm fine. Sam and I have lunch plans I've already postponed once, and I need to get some things from my apartment. Wearing the same seven outfits is absolutely killing my vibe."

My glare is stern as he shifts his eyes to the ceiling, obviously done with my overprotectiveness. "I don't need a babysitter. You've given me two whole self-defense classes, so I'm practically a black belt."

"Will you at least take Sam with you?" It's a compromise, even if he still seems perturbed.

He snorts as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Sam screams and runs from butterflies. He had a phobia of ladybugs until he was seventeen. Ladybugs , Dante!"

"In all fairness, they are kind of creepy." The stank eye he tosses my direction is intense. "Safety in numbers is a real thing."

Another eyeroll is focused right at me. "It's been a couple of weeks. Do you honestly think Jesse's still hanging around, just waiting for me to show my face?"

"I can't pretend to understand what's going on in that psycho's mind, but I don't want you to be alone there. Take Sam. Please?"

"God," he groans, drawing it out, and that's when I know I've got him. "The begging gets me every fucking time." His eyes soften as he lifts on his toes and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "If he's not busy, I'll bring him along. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to miss work or something important for this. That douche canoe doesn't deserve to disrupt my life any more than he already has."

I hug him against me, sinking my nose into his hair and breathing him in. "Text me when you get there and when you leave. And park your car in the garage after you're back."

"Yes, Dad… darling." With wide eyes, he stares at me as his lips twist into a guilty grimace.

A soft chuckle escapes me as he mumbles an apology, his voice muffled by my chest. Now that his guilt will keep him from saying no, I add another demand to my growing list. "Give me Sam's number."

"Why, so you can turn him into your minion, too?" he grumbles, even as he pulls my cell phone out of my back pocket to type the number into my contacts.

"I ask so terribly much of you," I say with mock sympathy.

He narrows his eyes and wrinkles his nose as he returns my phone to my pocket. "There's already plenty of attitude in this relationship without you adding to it."

"Couldn't agree more." I drop another kiss on his lips before releasing him. "Just be careful."

"Careful is my middle name," he announces as he slides his shoes on.

"I thought it was Shyless."

"Oh, um, I have two. Theodore Shyless Careful Wheeler."

"That… sounds like a complete falsehood."

A dramatic gasp precedes his hand on his chest. "Do you doubt my words? You wound me!"

"I'll wound you later, pretty boy," I mutter, rewarded by the smile I was hungry for as he squeaks and claps his hands together. "Now, go have fun with Sam." He gives me a sweet wave and blows me a kiss before he walks out the door, and anxiety hits me the second it closes behind him.

The urge to tail him is strong, and I fight my instinct to keep him safe as his car ambles down the street and out of sight. I sigh as I climb into my SUV, forcing myself to make the drive to the studio.

Distracted as I push my key into the office door, I don't realize there's a body in front of me until I slam into it. They're sent flying without a sound, followed by a loud clank as something falls to the floor.

"Shit, sor… oh, what the fuck?" I whisper as I look up to find Blow Up Wante hanging from what looks like fishing line, swinging wildly like an inflated sex pendulum. Dmitri steps out from behind the desk with his phone held up in front of him, cackling like a maniac. "Are you recording?" I growl, launching myself at him, but his long legs let him spider away before I can reach him.

"Theo made me do it!" he cries as he holds his hands up—still recording, might I add—and circles the room as he continues to dodge me. Not paying attention to where he's going, Wante slams into his side, which only makes him laugh harder and almost makes me slip into a grin, too.

Something skids across the floor when I kick it, and I glance at the ground to see a blue plastic toy bucket rolling away. "What's that?"

"Dunno, Theo just told me to tape it to his hand and tell you that the buckets belong to him." Immediately, my face burns to the point my entire head is flaming red, and Dmitri is positively thrilled. "Dude, you are pink !" he shouts as he braves a step closer, and I realize he's still filming. "Is this a sex thing? This really feels like a sex thing."

I snatch the phone from his hand as he yells his objection, hiking my eyebrow at the camera and whispering, "You're going to get it later," before stopping the recording and handing the phone back.

Dmitri eyes me suspiciously. "You aren't deleting that?"

A loud sigh blows out of my mouth, exaggerated because I want to make sure my displeasure is documented, followed by a shake of my head. "I know you're planning on sending it to him, and I can't deny him a goddamned thing."

His smile switches from sly to sweet as he punches a few things into his phone, no doubt sending the video before I change my mind. "So, you two finally caved?"

"More like I finally came to my senses."

He surprises me when he runs over and wraps me in a hug, lifting me clear off my feet. "Fuck, it's about time."

"Since when are you a hugger?" I cry as I wrestle my way out of his iron grip.

He releases me with a grin. "Sorry, Eric's rubbing off on me."

"I don't need to hear about his rubbing, Sticks." I motion for him to sit, ignoring Wante still gently swinging in the breeze. "What are your thoughts on Monica's email?"

"The idea of an international tour? Honestly, it's kind of terrifying. Are we even near that level, or would attempting this be too ambitious? It would be ungodly expensive, and if we didn't sell enough tickets, it could really set us back."

I nod, my thoughts mirroring his. Moments like this remind me why Dmitri is the best member of the band to help me with the administrative side of things. He has a strong business mind from his years working at his dad's company. Unlike the others, he's not impulsive, and considers all angles before making a move instead of just jumping in blindly.

"We definitely need more time to analyze everything. It could be a good idea for us to set a goal, like getting the album into the top twenty or reaching a specific revenue threshold. Something concrete that we can measure and justify."

The gears in his head are in motion as he considers my words. "Yeah, we're going to need a way to monitor progress on paper. If we don't, the others will bulldoze us because they'll be excited to go on a field trip."

"It's like having three overexcited kids," I mumble, and he grunts his agreement. "Have you told Eric yet?"

He shakes his head, a hint of guilt sneaking onto his face. "No. When I got Monica's email and saw your text, I thought we should make a plan before I mentioned it to him."

"Yeah, same. Theo would've already been packing and shopping for the latest French fashion if I'd told him." I can imagine my driveway lined with Amazon boxes full of berets and sweaters he'd insist on me referring to as jumpers, all while practicing a wacky British accent.

"What about her other suggestions?"

I focus back on him. "Interviews? To be honest, it makes me a little nervous, too. I'm not the best at talking to people."

"Not everything is on your shoulders, Dante. Eric is great at dealing with the crowds, and I don't mind answering questions. Theo would jump at the chance to be interviewed."

"And Tai would just have to sit back and make Zoolander faces at the camera while looking aloof."

"He's so good at it," Dmitri agrees with a grin.

"You talk to Eric, and I'll get Theo and Tai up to speed. We'll gather their thoughts and discuss it further during the next practice."

"Sounds like a plan." He watches me with a goofy smile as I stand and untie Wante from the ceiling.

"Don't judge me," I mutter, not waiting for his response as I hustle out the door with the doll under my arm.

His laughter follows me all the way to my car.