Katie stepped away from their group, only to stumble into another speaking in similar terms. “I need a drink,” she said to Emma. “Let’s find someone old enough to help us.”

Katie was on her second cranberry and vodka when the band took a break, and she was half-surprised when Matt found her. “Hey.” He cupped her face in his palms and began to kiss her, only to pull back as soon as his tongue found hers. “You’re drinking?”

“You don’t own me.” She took a long draw on her straw.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked.

She dropped her eyes. “Nothing.”

Matt took her hand, dragging her behind him as he walked away from the bar. “What happened?” he asked as soon as he had her in a quiet corner behind the stage.

“I don’t like all these girls looking at you,” she admitted as she stared down into her drink.

He took the glass from her hand and set it on the stage. “Look at me.” He touched the side of her jaw and tilted her head back. “Do you think I give a fuck about any of them?”

Katie shook her head, reading the answer in his eyes. “I still want to scratch their eyes out. I hate it.”

“You’re the only girl I want,” he said as he pressed her back against the wall, his body inches from hers. “I love you.”

“You do?” Katie whispered.

“More than anything else in this fucking world.” He held the sides of her face, his mouth meeting hers for a deep kiss. “I need you to promise me something, Hunter,” Matt said after lifting his head. “I need you to promise me you aren’t going to get drunk because you’re upset about something. If you’re upset about something, you come and talk to me. Drinking doesn’t make anything better—if there’s something on your mind, deal with it. Don’t cover it up.”

“Okay.” She kissed his chin. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I’m serious. I know how dangerous this is and you do too. Didn’t that doctor you like so much teach you how to deal with shit you don’t like?”

Katie felt stupid. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry—just don’t do it again. Your mom trusts me to protect you when we’re out. What do you think she’s going to do if I bring you home drunk? You think she’s still going to trust me?”

“Don’t be mad.” She gripped the front of his shirt. “I won’t do it again. Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you.” He brushed his lips over hers. “But I don’t want you to do dangerous shit.”

“I won’t. Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.”