He cracks a grin and drags the pillow down, hooking an arm around it. “I have twenty minutes before I have to go help plan a baby sprinkle for Jasmine—whatever the fuck that is. Soothe me with tales from the road. How’s the tour going?”

I search to find out what he’s in for with Heath’s wife. “Great. Some of the shots we’ve gotten—God, Xan. This has so much potential if the label will let it happen. The band will be unstoppable if Mac would get out of the way.”

“And you’ll be a part of it.”

I half-smile, tapping to bring him full-screen again. “If the label lets it happen.”

“They’ll have to once they see what you’re putting together. The footage I’ve seen come through with your notes is gold. I can always tell when you’re behind the lens. The entire vibe is set and direction clear.” He huffs. “Heath can’t even find shit to bitch about.” His gaze lifts as he weighs that a little. “Other than the missing Adams interview. You need to get that locked down, or I might be the one who suffers.”

I wince. “Yeah, I know.”

With it mentioned a second time in less than half an hour, my time for avoiding the one-on-one with Foster has run out. Whether either of us likes it.

The thing is, I want his answers to the questions. I’ve heard Dev’s version of the band’s origin story. Of his drummer not showing for a gig, and Felix subbing in, improvising most of the set. How they saw Foster play that same night at an open mic when they went out to drink after the show. Felix told me the heavens opened the first time they jammed all three of them. He said he never truly understood what it meant to belong until they started writing their first song.

But it feels incomplete without hearing Foster’s experience. Besides the interview questions, I want him to tell me how he became Adams North. If he’s experienced his fuck you moment with his dad yet, or if that happens when they play their last show on the tour at Madison Square Garden.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asks. “It seems like something else is going on with this.”

A thought of confiding in him flits through. Maybe I give enough about Adams I could at least talk to someone.

Xander and I’ve been bonded in the flames as far as work, and we even spent last Christmas together. But I still want the rest to stay locked away, where it belongs. The only way it can happen is to keep the past vague and the truth smudged.

I shrug it off. “It’s just rock stars being rock stars.”

“We both know what that can mean.” His expression softens. “Is everyone treating you right?”