Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

TAM

90 bobas left until they both die …

That was fun yesterday, hanging out with Lake and her friends at the boba tea shop. I can’t even remember a time that I ever did anything like that. Even today, meeting with the only two guys in the world besides Daniel and Jacob that I might consider friends, I’m not half as excited.

I’m standing with my back to a wall, foot kicked up and sole resting on it, as I wait for Kaycee, Lake, and Joules to show up. My mouth twitches. Last night, when I saw him threatening his little sister like that, I almost lost it. I wanted to grab him by his shirt and throw him into a wall.

I rub a hand over my face and make myself smile wider, nice and pretty in case anyone is looking.

“Who are these people again?” Dylan asks, scrolling on his phone. If he isn’t working out, dancing, or performing then he’s looking at social media. He’s more obsessed with his image than I am. And then there’s … Well, it’s Adam who sings under his last name, Stricken. He’s asleep on a bench which is pretty normal since he works as hard as I do. I’m about half-asleep myself.

A yawn escapes me, and I have to rub at my temple for a minute before I can answer. Why am I here again? Why am I at an escape room when I should be sleeping?

Oh, that’s right. Because I suddenly decided at age twenty-six that I was going to have a life. I can’t write songs anymore because I don’t have anything else to write about, and it’s pissing me off. Also, I guess I want to save that girl from a cult.

That is, as long as she doesn’t push me toward something I don’t want to do.

Nobody has ever cared that I’m dating Kaycee. My fans send me messages all the time, asking me to love them, to give them a chance, telling me how we’re destined to be together. They say it in person. They put it on signs. It bothers me. A lot. It’s like, what I want doesn’t matter.

So I need Lake to respect Kaycee. That’s important.

“Friends of mine. Well, the girl is. Kaycee is friends with the guy.”

I know how weird that sounds, so I’m not surprised when Dylan stops scrolling to look up at me, his blonde hair streaked with bright blue and shaved on one side. He turns his phone off and puts it away, crossing his arms to stare at me.

“I’m … confused. You and Kaycee are … swinging? Polyamorous? I don’t get it.” Dylan glances over at Adam who’s now brightly, terrifyingly awake as he peers at me.

“You guys aren’t exclusive anymore?”

I sigh.

“Did I say anything about that? Just pretend like these people are our friends, okay? Me and Kaycee’s both.” I sigh and lean my head back against the wall, closing my eyes. When Adam and Dylan realize that we’re not having any sort of interesting discussion, they go back to what they were doing.

I think I doze off because when I open my eyes, blinking into the blinding early afternoon light, there’s Lake. She’s standing right in front of me and waiting with a slight smile on her face. She’s got on a black-and-white dress with a starched collar, her sea green hair in braids, and black tights on. Her boots are the same pink as the lacing on my shoes, but I pretend I don’t notice.

“Was I sleeping?” I ask her, and she laughs, clapping her hands in front of her face.

“I called your name. Poked you in the arm. Nothing.”

“How did you wake me up then?” I ask, and then another yawn slips out, and I’m clapping a hand over my mouth and closing my eyes. I hate my schedule sometimes. I want to sleep. And then go out with friends. And then sleep again. Just once in my life, I want a two-day weekend. I open my eyes to see that Lake is grinning now.

“I whispered a secret into your ear.” She shrugs, and I feel myself getting annoyed. My tongue gets stuck at the corner of my mouth as I lean back against the wall, arms crossed, one ankle kicked over the other.

“And the secret was?” I ask, but she just shakes her head at me.

“If you didn’t hear it before, that’s not my problem now.” She walks past me and heads in the direction of the haunted house, turning around near the entrance and then flicking her witch hat earrings. “I dressed up a little for today. I’ve never done a haunted house escape room. I’ve done temples; I’ve done bank robberies; I’ve been in a 1920s bar during prohibition. But this? I’m excited for this.”

“Can I wait outside?” Joules ask stupidly, and I huff an irritated laugh.

“Joules, Lake,” I begin as I move up to stand beside her. “This is Dylan and that’s Adam. Guys, this is Lake, and the dude is Joules.”

“Fun,” Dylan says, already bored. Now I’m seriously questioning why I ever set this thing up. What’s wrong with me? I could be practicing right now. I’m releasing a new album at the end of this tour, and there’s a lot of other shit I should be doing today.

“You don’t have to come,” I tell him, and then I look at Adam who’s peering at me again. “Stay here and sleep if you want. Joules, you definitely can wait outside.” I turn and grab Lake by the arm, tugging her into the brightly lit lobby. I release her wrist as soon as we hit the counter, but there’s a weird tingling in my body. I thought it was the creeps before, I really did. Like a terrible reaction to a really bad person.

I’m not sure what I think it is today.

We check in, and it’s surprisingly efficient. The employee here knew I was coming—we reserved all of the rooms today and all of the time slots—but he doesn’t seem to recognize me or else he doesn’t care who Tam Eyre is. Some people don’t, and that’s okay.

Liar, my ego whispers.

“Let’s wait for Kaycee here,” I tell Lake, pausing next to the door that leads to our game room. When we’re ready, the employee will play us a short video that explains the rules of the game and tells us a cheesy story that goes with the puzzles we’ll have to solve.

I’ve never been to an escape room before, but I’m into it. Lake seems into it, which is appreciated.

“You and Joules are like oil and water, aren’t you?” she asks, and then sighs.

“Must not be your Match then, huh?” I tease, and then I wonder if that wasn’t a little mean. Lake’s expression shifts immediately, and I can see that she isn’t amused at all. She’s sad about something. I recognize the expression from before. I’ve seen it multiple times on her now.

“You were picked by the curse, Tam,” she says, and then rolls her head on her shoulders and exhales strongly, changing her mood in an instant. “I’ve never played an escape room as fancy as this one. This place has won all sorts of awards. There are like five or six rooms and elaborate props. I heard that there’s even a room with dry ice fog.”

“Uh. Okay.” I don’t even know what to say to that. I tuck my hands in my pockets as the awkwardness of hanging out alone with a total stranger creeps over me. Daniel is there on the other side of the room, slinking around in the shadows like a mercenary. He gets mad when I acknowledge him in public, so I try not to. Jacob is standing just outside the front doors, like he doesn’t dare come in here with me right now. He’s pissed off which is pretty normal.

Eventually, Adam and Dylan come inside, and Kaycee follows shortly after.

She’s walking alongside Joules, and I feel my temper flare all over again.

“We can get started now,” I tell the employee, and then I walk right up to Kaycee and stand there stiffly. I should grab her and kiss her but she’s standing way too close to Joules. To touch her, I’d have to brush my arm against his, and that’s not happening. “Hey, glad you made it.”

“Me, too,” she breathes, reaching up to run a hand over her hair. Kaycee stands there like she’s waiting for something.

I smile gently at her.

“I like the blonde. Suits you.”

“Thank you,” she replies with a pretty little blush. I hook my arm with hers on the opposite side from Joules, and we all head into the next room, watch the video—I guess we’re hunting the ghost of a pioneer woman who’s said to inhabit this house—and then we’re sent inside.

It’s dark and hard to see, especially when the employee slams the door shut behind us.

“Okay,” Lake says, this competitive edge to her voice that I like. “We have an hour. Let’s see if we can’t find a way to get some light in this room first.”

I can hear her footsteps, but I can’t see anything. Beside me, I hear Kaycee yawn.

“Are you tired?” Joules asks her. “Hungry? Because you look like you never eat.”

“I don’t need your opinion on my body, my friend,” Kaycee quips back, a bit of a bite in her voice that I’ve never heard before.

Huh.

I slip my arm from hers and start moving around the edge of the room, feeling my way past a bookcase, a desk with a glued-down lamp and a book with rough-edged pages. I keep going, hoping my eyes will adjust to the lack of light.

And then I brush over something soft, and there’s a soft exhale of breath from in front of me.

“Those are my boobs, Tam,” Lake says dryly, and I hear Joules make a sound of annoyance from behind me.

“Sorry,” I tell her honestly, dropping my arms to my sides. My lips are pursed, and I’m irrationally annoyed with myself. That was messed up. It also felt really good. I squeeze my hands into fists. My fucking girlfriend is here; I can’t be touching other women.

I’m so worried about Lake creeping on me when I’m the one with the problem.

I shake my head and keep going, but Lake beats me to the light switch.

“Got it!” She yanks on a lever, and the lights come on. They’re dim, flickering fluorescents to add to the creepiness, but at least I can see now. “There are three passages off this room that are all open. Let’s split up and conquer some ground.” Lake reaches out and snatches my wrist, dragging me with her through a narrow hallway that’s as dark as the room was before we turned the lights on, and then into a large space with the promised dry ice fog.

There are gravestones on the ground, front lit with small spotlights so we can read the epitaphs.

Lake releases my hand and we split up, each of us heading in a different direction as we search for clues. Did I really grab her breasts by accident in the dark? I can’t stop myself from thinking about that.

With my mind as distracted as it is, I don’t find a single clue until I run into Lakelynn again.

She’s squatted down in front of one of the fake tombstones, her hand on a purple book that’s sitting leaned up against it. But that’s as far as she goes. I expect her to pick the book up, to turn to me, to read out the next clue or at least show me what’s tucked inside the pages.

Instead, she just stays where she is, frozen into a crouch.

When I come up beside her and squat down to look into her face, I see that there are tear tracks down her cheeks. They catch the faint glow of the tombstone light, her head the only bright spot against the shadows.

I look from her to the tombstone, reading the inscription in my head.

Dearest Joe, Worth More Dead than Alive, Wanted RIP. It’s supposed to be a silly joke, but for whatever reason, it’s triggered something in Lake that I can’t undo. So I don’t say anything. I stay right where I am, and I wait.

When she falls back onto her ass and puts her head in her hand, I keep waiting.

And then I reach into my pocket and pull out a handkerchief, handing it over to her.

She gives me a tear-stained look of disbelief.

“You carry a handkerchief in your pocket?” she asks, stunned. I stare back at her, hand outstretched, folded plaid square on the palm of my hand.

“My grandpa told me that all gentlemen carry handkerchiefs.”

I’m serious. I’m also not sure why I told her that. Would Tam Eyre carry handkerchiefs? Or is that just a Thomas thing? The fact that I don’t even know is a problem. When Lake doesn’t take the handkerchief, I reach out and gently curl my fingers around her wrist. I pull her hand forward and put the plaid square on her palm. Tuck her fingers around it.

I meet her eyes. They’re swollen from crying, but everything is the same strange color in this half-lit cemetery made of Styrofoam and dry ice. I purse my lips slightly, still holding onto her wrist.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, but she shakes her head, and then she smiles at me.

“Just sprained my ankle when I was walking over here for the clue.” Total crock of shit, I think as Lake jerks her head up to the timer on the wall. There’s a mounted clock with big red numbers counting down the remainder of our time to finish the game.

Forty-two minutes.

“We need to hurry,” Lake breathes out, snatching up the book and opening it one-handed. There’s a four-digit glow in the dark number drawn inside. Her smirk catches the tombstone light as she turns her head to look at me. “Want to bet this is the code to one of those locked boxes in the first room?”

I can feel Lake’s wild pulse in her wrist, and I run my thumb down the length of it before letting go. Did it speed up? We stare at each other, but she doesn’t give me any indication that I’m the reason for her frantic pulse.

“If you’re going to keep sitting there and staring at me, we’re never going to make it on the leaderboard. Take my hand and help me up. I said I sprained my ankle, didn’t I?”

My brows go up, and I scramble to my feet, offering out a hand. Shit, maybe I’m not such a gentleman after all?

“Tell me you’re in here or I’m calling the cops.” Joules’ monotone voice is preceded just barely by Kaycee appearing out of the fog. I take Lake’s wrist and pull her to her feet. Kaycee blinks strangely at us, but then I release Lake’s wrist and turn, putting my hands in my pockets.

“Four-eight-four-eight, that’s one of the lock codes,” Lake mutters, and then she walks off with absolutely zero limp whatsoever. I narrow my eyes at her retreating back before I realize that Kaycee’s offering me her arm.

I take it, and head back into the first room, the one that’s decorated like a crumbling Victorian mansion. Peeling dark purple wallpaper with a thorny rose pattern, a chandelier hanging crookedly and covered in faux spiderwebs, pictures on the wall that turn into skeletons when you look at them from the proper angle.

Lake attacks the puzzles in the escape room like she’s bet money on us solving this thing in the hour time limit. Joules trails behind her, and every now and then, I see a glint of excitement in his eyes. He’s only pretending to be apathetic; it’s me that he doesn’t like, not the escape room.

Dylan and Adam get weirdly into it, too, but Kaycee seems distracted. She doesn’t solve a single thing, and half the time I’m not sure that she knows what’s going on. Probably just tired. I understand the feeling completely.

“We did it!” Lake retrieves some trinket that used to belong to the pioneer ghost, tosses it down a faux well, and the exit door opens. The timer stops. “We’re on the leaderboard!” She high-fives everyone, including Kaycee, before she looks in my direction.

Almost hesitantly, she raises her hand, and I give her a sideways smile and a high five.

Apparently, getting third place on today’s leaderboard has earned us one free T-shirt. Everyone there is in agreement that Lake should get to pick the style and size, and she walks out of that place with a black scoop neck that has a picture of the pioneer ghost on the back.

“You liked that place then?” Joules asks her, in a low enough voice that I know I wasn’t meant to hear. He almost sounds human when he talks to his sister. It’s shocking.

“Mm.” Lake nods and then pauses next to a food truck, studying the menu.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, walking up to stand beside her. She glances my direction and then shrugs.

“I could eat.”

“I’ll buy if you guys are in?” I ask, looking over at Adam and Dylan. But Adam’s already climbing into the back of a blacked-out Escalade, and Dylan is on the opposite side of the parking lot talking on his phone. Right. My ‘best friends’.

“I wish I could, but I’m already late,” Kaycee groans, reaching up to rub at her face. “I’m starving.”

“You’re not leaving here without eating,” Joules commands, and my mouth hangs open. Who the hell does he think he is, talking to Kaycee like that? He doesn’t even know her.

“I can … actually do whatever the fuck I want, Joules Frost,” she tells him, but when he scoffs and steps up to the food truck window to order, she sits down at a table. “But I guess I have maybe five minutes to eat before I go.”

“We can eat here …” Lake starts, and then Joules is giving me a look over his shoulder, brow raised in challenge. It’s quietly calculating, and I steel myself for the next verbal attack.

“You offered to buy my sister a meal. We’re fucking poor. Don’t you dare go back on your word.”

A laugh slips out of me as I shake my head at him, keeping my hands still by thrusting my fingers in my pockets. Who are these Frost siblings? They’re both bizarre, but I kind of like the energy they bring. Although, Joules could lose the attitude.

“I could buy your sister an entire restaurant, and it wouldn’t faze me.” I turn to find that she’s staring up at me, lips parted. “How about that? A whole-ass boba shop.”

“I would … settle for a single meal at a steakhouse or something?” Lake shrugs, and I hesitate slightly, certain that I can hear Jacob’s words ringing in my head.

Oh.

No, not in my head. He’s standing right next to me and whispering.

“You cannot be seen at a steakhouse, of all places, with some random girl.”

“Okay, let’s do it. I know the perfect spot. No dress code either, so we won’t have to change.” I move away from Jacob, but I don’t miss him cursing behind me. “Are you okay with that, Kaycee?” I ask, coming to stand beside her. I may not have been the one to ask her out—the CEO set us up—but I’ll be damned if I don’t give this my best shot. Kaycee is my first real girlfriend, so … I should try not to mess this up.

“I’m fine with it,” Kaycee says, but there’s a strange tone in her voice. I open my mouth to ask if she’s sure when Joules slams a tray of food down in front of her.

“Vegetable stir fry with a little bit of brown rice. There’s no way you can’t have this—even on a diet. Eat.” Joules takes the seat across from Kaycee, and then gives me and Lake an odd look. “Aren’t you two leaving? Go. I want Lake back at the hotel before ten.”

“I’m going to smother you while you’re sleeping tonight,” she tells him, and I raise my brows. Huh. So, it isn’t just him that threatens her …? I’m starting to wonder if this cult theory is stupid as hell. But if Lake and Joules aren’t in a cult, then what’s the deal with this curse business? She seems so normal otherwise. “Should I take a taxi and meet you there, Tam?”

“That would be great,” Jacob begins, but I cut him off with a look. He might be my manager, but make no mistake: I am the boss.

“You can ride in the SUV,” I tell Lake, and she nods, following along beside me as I head in that direction. I pause in the middle of the brick walkway and tilt my head back. It’s sunny today, the warmth of spring manifested in the green buds on the trees. I want so much to ask Lakelynn why she was crying in the graveyard, but it’s like it never happened. She’s standing just a few feet ahead of me with her own head tilted back, eyes closed.

“Thank you for reminding me to take a minute to appreciate this weather,” she murmurs, and then we’re both dropping our heads and she’s opening her eyes. The outfit she has on today is … I like the way it fits her. Looks nice.

I smile but say nothing, heading for the SUV as Pat appears to open the back door.

“Thanks man,” I tell him as he helps Lake in first, and then me next. Daniel climbs into the back as he always does. He never gets in the car before I do, just in case, even if it means squeezing past the two captain’s chairs. Jacob resumes his usual bitching from the front passenger seat.

“We should call ahead and have the restaurant cleared. I assume you’re eating at that place your mom recommended?”

“Or we could just get a shadowy booth in the corner? And yes.” I’m slumped in the seat, trying not to stare at Lake. What does she think about being in the SUV with me? Is she excited? Or is she truly not a fan of mine? I can’t decide if I want her to be or not. If she isn’t, I guess my pride will take a hit. If she is, then she’s just like everybody else. I don’t know. I rub at my face and ask myself why I care. Because she’s your friend, you idiot. “I want something nice, like a filet mignon.”

“Filet mignon is not on your diet.” Jacob scoffs and shakes his head. If he sounds mean, it’s not that he’s trying to be. If I don’t maintain a near perfect level of fitness, somebody else will. Their star will rise, and mine will sink, and that’s … what showbusiness is. I sigh and sit up, putting my hand on the edge of Jacob’s chair, so that I can lean forward and look at him. I can feel Lake watching me.

“It’s my cheat day, Jake.”

“You already had a cheat day this week, Tom,” he replies smoothly, and I work my jaw.

“I spent an extra two hours that I didn’t really have in the gym this week. Don’t forget that.”

“Those two extra hours might cover one of those disgusting drinks you’ve been getting.”

Lake gasps, and then she throws her ghost shirt at Jacob’s shoulder. Daniel doesn’t even move. It’s not his job to protect Jacob, so … Daniel is pretty literal when it comes to his job description. I smother a laugh as Jacob turns to gape at Lakelynn over his shoulder.

“Don’t insult boba. It’s the drink of the gods.” She sits back in her seat, arms crossed, and her eyes narrow and darken. I’ve spent a lot of time on BookTok trying to understand what exactly darkening eyes look like, but Lake is a prime example right here. She looks like she could easily kill Jacob and not lose sleep over it. “Tam’s body is a rock. He has, what, ten percent body fat? Let the man eat a steak. My God. People from Los Angeles are really weird.”

“As opposed to people from Middle of Nowhere, Arkansas who eat enough red meat to give heart disease to two hearts?” Jacob sniffs, and Lake laughs.

“Death by steak or a long life of drinking cold kale smoothies. It’s a life choice.” She glances my way and then shrugs. “It’s your life, Tam. Do what you want. All I’m saying is, you’re healthy and you eat well most of the time. When’s the last time you had filet mignon?”

I just stare back at her, and then I furrow my brow.

“Last year, on my birthday.” My birthday is coming up in a few months, so it’s almost the one-year anniversary of that last steak. “You’re right, Lake. I think I will get a steak today.”

“Good for you, Thomas. Stand up for yourself.” Lake gives a small fist pump and then leans down at the same time I do to grab the fallen T-shirt. We conk our heads together and turn, making eye contact. And then she smiles at me again, and I find myself smiling back. “I know it’s cute, but I don’t think it’d fit you.” Lake snags the shirt and sits back up, shoving it into her small purse.

She’s right though. I am jealous. I do want a shirt.

I text my assistant to stop by the escape room place so that she can buy one—they were only twenty bucks—and then I settle in for the drive.

If my eyes shift over to look at Lake more often than not, who has to know?

It was an accident, but she was so soft. So freaking soft.

Lake and I sit across from one another in a booth with high backs, tucked into a private room in the corner of the restaurant. Nobody will be able to see me here unless they’re a member of the staff, and Jacob has already handled that. Lake is the first person I’ve ever seen resist his initial attempts to get an NDA signed.

Speaking of …

“Jacob really wants you to sign that NDA.” I don’t even know why I brought that up. I don’t want to talk about NDAs with Lakelynn. I lean in and park an elbow on the table, resting my chin in my hand.

When she glances up from buttering her bread, I give her a look. It’s a look that, if I were the average everyday person, I would only ever use on a serious girlfriend or a wife. Because of my job, it’s a look I use on everybody.

Lake isn’t entirely immune to it. I don’t expect that. I just want to see her respect the fact that I’m not single.

“Please sign that NDA, so he’ll stop bitching at me. Then I can send you my best after-concert-fucked-up-hair selfies. As of right now, I can’t do that. Don’t you think this would be good for the curse, in the long run?”

Cheap move, throwing that curse thing at her, but I want to see what she’ll do.

She keeps buttering the fresh, hot bread that the waiter left for us. I pretend not to want any, but I really fucking do. I’m almost drooling I want it so bad. But if I can fit a steak into my diet, I definitely can’t do—

Lake tosses the slice onto my plate, and then smiles.

“Eat. I’ve seen you pass out online before. That can’t be good for you.”

The blood drains from my face, and I sit up. Oh. There’ve been a few times where I’ve fainted onstage or during a music video shoot. Inevitably, it always goes viral and then trends for a few weeks. But that’s not entirely uncommon in my industry. Happens to Kaycee, too.

I look down at the bread, and then I turn back to Lake. She’s buttering her own piece, staring down at it instead of at me.

“If you sign the NDA, I’ll eat the bread,” I tell her, and she sighs, giving me a nasty look.

“Cheap move, Thomas.” Lake draws her phone out, taps around for a few seconds, and then turns it so that I can see the screen. “There? Are you happy? My mom says you guys know your stuff. It was fair, but also ridiculously binding. She appreciated the effort that went into that.”

“I wonder if she’d appreciate the bills the law firm sends me,” I tease, picking up the menu. I can hardly believe what I’m looking at here. Nothing on this menu is in my diet. Not the appetizers, not the soups, not even the salads. The entrées, of course, are high calorie, and the dessert portion of the menu doesn’t exist for me.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to pay for this meal? I don’t want you to feel obligated. I can pay for my own food,” Lake assures me, and I drop the menu to the tabletop. It’s been some years since I’ve had dinner out like this. Longer still since I’ve eaten a meal with anyone but Daniel, Jacob, my mom, or Kaycee. This is essentially new territory for me.

“I may not have any time, but I definitely have some money.” I shrug. “Order whatever you want, as much as you want. I owe you for solving that escape room today. If you hadn’t been there, we wouldn’t have even finished before the timer, let alone hit the leaderboard.”

She nods, like my explanation makes total sense.

“Then how about crab cakes for the appetizer, French onion for the soup, and filet mignon for the entrée?” She tosses her menu aside, and then bites at her lip for a second. I stay where I am, hand on the edge of my menu, curious to see what it is that she’s so nervous about. “Can I order some wine, too? I can even pay for it myself or you could give me a price range—”

“Lakelynn.” I pick up the wine list and flip it open, scanning the prices until I find the most expensive bottle. “Let’s get this one.”

“Oh my God, why though?” she laughs, and then she steals the list from my hands. “How about this pinot noir? Still a nice quality, but a reasonable price.” Lake grins. “My Aunt Daphne worked as a sommelier for a while, so I know my stuff.”

“Maybe we’ll get both bottles?” I respond, leaning back in the booth and kicking out a leg. I bump into both of Lake’s feet when I do, totally by accident. But then my leg is sort of wedged between hers. It gets a little weird, but neither of us moves. It’s not a big deal anyway.

“Is a bottle of wine really on your diet?” she responds, but she’s smiling. “Alright, fine. Let’s do it.”

“Hey,” I say, before I can lose my nerve. “I’m sorry that I touched you when we were at the escape room.”

Lake just stares at me, her mouth slightly parted, freckles dancing across her nose.

“Why even bring that up?” she whispers, leaning in with both palms on the table. Her brown eyes are wide and imploring, her legs shifting slightly on either side of mine. The sound her tights make against the legs of my jeans has me wondering if I should move. I’m not sure this is appropriate anymore. But it feels worse to acknowledge that fact, so I don’t. “Tam.”

“Mm?” I ask, exhaling and knowing that I’m acting weird. Shit, this isn’t good. I need to get up for a minute, but I also can’t seem to make my body move.

“Don’t mention your hands on my boobs ever again, okay?” she says, and every word that comes out of her mouth makes me feel even stranger. I jerk my leg back and scoot out of the booth suddenly.

“Where are you—” Lake begins, and I can hear the panic in her voice the way I did at the fairy-tale boba place. I don’t turn around because I can’t, but I call out to her.

“Bathroom. Be right back.”

I lock myself in the restroom and then put my hands flat on the counter, head down. Months of struggling with erections, and now I’m getting them in the most inconvenient times and places possible? I flick the switch for cold water and then splash my face, soak a paper towel and lay it over the back of my neck, pace back and forth until my body calms down.

By the time I get back, the appetizer has not only been ordered but also delivered. Lake is cutting into a crab cake, and she doesn’t look at me when I slide into the booth seat. Our wine is here, too. The bottle she picked out is resting in a bucket to chill, and my glass has a nice, heavy pour.

“Did I make a mistake, leaving Kaycee alone with Joules?” I ask. I mean, her bodyguard was there with her, but it still doesn’t paint a very pretty picture. Kaycee with another guy. Me with another girl.

Lake puts the bite of crab into her mouth and looks up at me.

“He’s a good man, and he’s the best brother. He would never hurt her.” Lake sounds annoyed that I would even ask, so I let the subject drop. Either she doesn’t understand what I was getting at, or she’s choosing not to acknowledge it.

That’d make sense, right? Use her brother to get Kaycee away, so that Lake and I could—

I’m getting hot, but I can’t figure out why that is. I just want to drink this wine, eat my meal, and go back to the hotel.

“Bag check,” she says suddenly, and then she sets her fork down. “Are you allergic to crab?” she asks me, and I’m so confused that I just shake my head. Lake puts one of the crab cakes on a small appetizer plate and passes it over to me. “I’m working bag check at your next concert. I’ll be happy just so long as I don’t have to wear a foam hat shaped like a purse on my head.”

The edge of my lip twitches upward as I pick up my wine and take a sip.

“I don’t know. I liked the popcorn outfit.” A pause. She stops eating to look at me again. “I liked the hot dog best.”

The table falls silent, and the waiter comes back, taking the rest of our order. I down my entire glass of wine and then pour another. Finish that. Pour a third. Lake is still on her first glass.

Jacob is at a nearby table, glaring at me, but like I said, I’m truly the boss here. I listen to him because he knows best, but today, I’m going to do what I want to do, damn the world.

“How was the visit with your college friend?” I ask suddenly, and then wish that I hadn’t.

Lake laughs and shakes her head at me.

“There was no college friend. Joules thought if he made up a guy that I was seeing, that you’d be jealous.”

I frown, staring down at the wine in my hand. I don’t comment on that. Why would I be jealous? I feel suddenly like I made a mistake in bringing her here.

And then she adjusts herself and our knees brush together. I close my eyes at that whispering sound, nylon tights against blue denim. I open them to see that Lake has no reaction to that whatsoever.

This is a me problem.

We keep the conversation light until dessert comes, and I have to watch Lake eat a molten chocolate cake by herself. A real one. Fresh baked. Ugh. But I don’t give into that, at least. Good for me.

“If you’re only working these gigs so that we can get more meet-cutes, don’t bother. Come to dinner with me and Kaycee. My treat again. We were supposed to double-date with Adam and his girlfriend, but he cancelled on us. I know Joules is your brother, but—”

“Double date sounds fun.” Lake drains her wine glass, and then smiles when I pour her another. “I’m used to going on dates with Joules. He was my date for prom senior year of high school because he beat up my date last minute.”

“For what reason?” I ask, morbidly curious.

Lake’s expression shifts a little, and she looks uncomfortable.

“The guy … he wasn’t appropriate. He deserved what he got.” Lake scratches absently at her neck, eyes drifting to the side but staring at nothing. “He’s honestly lucky that my dad and my uncles didn’t get to him first.”

My fingers tighten slightly on the stem of my glass. See, the cult thing is a possibility.

“Why?” I ask, and it comes out like a challenge. I’ve definitely had too much wine. Lake holds her glass in a relaxed hand and shifts her attention back to me.

“They would’ve killed him,” she says, and then she laughs. I can’t decide if it’s a joke or not. “But don’t worry: if you die, I die. So they would never try to do the same to you.”

Daniel and Jacob both get up for that one, but I shake my head gently and set my wineglass down. The look I give them clearly says piss off.

“If I die, you die?” I ask, and Lake nods and then shrugs.

“And vice versa. Say, for example, that when I jumped out in front of your SUV like a crazy person, you’d have hit me. We both would’ve died at the exact same second. If you don’t believe me, look up any one of my dead relatives. Cause and time of death. I’ll tell you who their Match was from memory, and you can look that person up, too. Same cause of death: heart failure. Same time of death. Well, or as close as is possible with modern science and human error. But you’ll see that they’re always on the same day.”

“You’ve had a lot of time to think about this, haven’t you?” I ask, and then I smile again. A real smile, not one of my stage smiles. “Fine.” I pull out my phone and type in Fayetteville, Arkansas Frost family obituaries. I pick one at random. “Clara Frost.” I look back up and see that Lake has gone pale. She really is full of shit, isn’t she?

“Oh, Aunt Clara,” she whispers, and I look at the date of death. Lake would’ve been … well, I’m not sure how old she is now, but she would’ve been a kid back then. She drops her gaze to the table. “I remember Aunt Clara.” A small smile. “She died in our living room on December twenty-third, fourteen years ago. Her Match was a senator from New York named Kelvin Bates. Look him up next.”

I do, and there he is, the man that Lake just told me about. Passed away on the same day as her aunt in his apartment in NYC from heart failure.

“So you go online and spend time looking for any random person that died on the same day as your relative and voilà, the curse is true.” That’s Jacob, not me. I would never say something like that aloud, even if it’s always a possibility in my mind.

Lake just shrugs and looks right at me.

“You don’t have to believe me. I just wanted to be honest. All I was after was this, just some organic opportunities for us to talk.” Pretty sure this girl is a little younger than me, but she speaks like someone twice my age. I’m impressed. The way she sits still like that, back straight, composure in every line of her body, that can’t be easy.

“Jacob, leave us alone,” I tell him absently, looking in his direction. He glares back at me, and then breaks about a million of the label’s rules. That is, we are nice to every fan, no matter what they say or do.

“You’re going to let this woman ruin everything? That’s what you want?” Jacob turns to Lake, and she does the same. They stare at each other, but she doesn’t react whatsoever.

“I’m not going to hurt him. All I want is to talk. That’s all we’re doing, talking. If he doesn’t like talking to me, I can’t make him see me again. Tam is the one who invited me and Joules to dinner. Why are you angry about that?”

“Because you’re the worst sort of person. Normal, at first, but pitiful. Tam is going to fall for your crap because he’s too nice, and then you’re going to step on his heart and ruin his life. Just go before you let this fantasy of being with Tam Eyre destroy what’s left of Thomas.”

“Jacob—” I start, sliding out of the seat and standing up. Not quite sure what I’m going to say or do, but removing him from that situation is my first priority. He stares at me like he knows it, too, like he knows I’d chase him off and take Lake’s side.

But … she’s a fan, right? A friend? I don’t even know.

“I’m not here for Tam Eyre,” Lake grinds out. “I don’t care about Tam Eyre. I wish that he wasn’t rich and famous. I’d be happy tomorrow if he quit and everyone just left him alone. You are the one that doesn’t understand what it’s like to see real magic, and then be punished heavily for the privilege.”

Jacob makes a sound of frustration and leaves through the back door. He’ll be back soon enough, and Daniel is always there. I let him go. I’m … I’m utterly speechless.

“Lake, I’m—” I try to apologize to her, but she stands up suddenly and puts her hand over my mouth. She’s still smiling at me.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.” She takes a deep breath and then starts listing off family members’ names, their Matches’ names, and their death dates. A whole string of them, dozens and dozens. And then … lastly … Her expression shifts strangely. “Joseph Frost.” A rough inhale. “Marla Castleberry.” Another breath, and then Lake turns to gather her things. Her hands … oh. Her hands are shaking. “February … eighth … a cold winter night … it’ll be two years next February.” Lake tries another smile on me that doesn’t land. My hands ache to touch her shoulders, to offer some sort of comfort but … I just can’t do it. “I think I should go; thank you so much for dinner.”

Lake takes off without so much as a handshake, and I turn to follow her quick exit out the front doors.

What … what just happened?

“She left you,” Daniel says, making zero effort to hide his pleased purr. “Other than Kaycee, I’ve never seen anyone do that. I told you that I liked her.”

Right. Anyone other than Kaycee. I run a hand over my hair and then clench my teeth in the only stress tic I have that doesn’t cause damage. Can’t chew on my nails. Can’t pick at my hair. Can’t bite my lip. I exhale and force my jaw to relax. I can’t get angry. I’m not allowed to get angry.

But if I were, then it’s Jacob that I’m angry with, isn’t it?

Not Lakelynn, the woman who claims that we’re cursed. I glance absently down at my left wrist, and I don’t think about the way her birthmark really does look like a heart.

Joseph Frost. Ragged Inhale.

Joe.

Joe on the tombstone, and Lakelynn squatting beside a grave made of Styrofoam, crying and smiling at the same time. I rub the heel of my hand against my chest and try to shake it off.

“Just sprained my ankle.” The memory of Lake’s tear-streaked face obliterates my brain.

Goddamn it. I’m such an idiot. I drag my palms down my face and then reach for the bottle of wine off the table, lifting it to my lips and drinking straight from the neck.

“Careful with that.” Daniel is smiling as he says that (he’s not talking about the wine), and then he actually laughs. I haven’t seen him laugh more than twice in the five years since he’s been working for me. “When you stare like that,” he continues, noting that my attention has shifted back to the front doors, “you look like a caged fighting dog. You definitely don’t look like the all-American golden boy that you’re supposed to be.”

I shift my gaze back to Daniel and set the wine aside.

“Why don’t we go buy some bourbon that costs more than a car, and hang out in my hotel room?” I just want a friend and here Daniel is, acting like he could be one. His smile fades away and he shakes his head.

“I have to keep my distance from you, so that I can do my job.” He shrugs, stands, and then takes a step back, as if to show me physically what he means emotionally.

I pick up the wine bottle and head outside to the SUV. In the car, I look up Joe and Marla and, sure enough, there they are. Died on the same day. Both in their early twenties. Both from sudden heart failure.

Either … this is coordinated murder. Or it’s a curse. Is it weird that the former is a more likely option? I’m just trying to be practical.

Who would ever believe in magic without proof?