“Remi.” Colton cuts me off once we reach the steps. The angel bats her lashes at him on her way up and goes with the mime detail into the house. He tips his head to maintain a view of her ass. “She already gave Adams the fuck-me eyes?”

“Oh, yeah.” His comment registers, and I look up at him. “You used his name.” And I remember, “You used my name.”

He shrugs. “Not much of a point after the NDAs. We still confiscated their phones, though. We haven’t fully made it past the orgy possibility of the night.”

I blink. “I need to remove Dev’s spy glasses.”

We head inside, and he does me the solid of snagging Dev’s glasses. Colton powers them down and hooks them in the collar of his torn shirt.

It takes about two seconds for me to hit record and pan around the gutted foyer. A dusty and precariously dangling pendant light above proves the angel right about power still being on. Toolboxes and broken pieces of plaster cover parts of the scratched hardwood. I pick my way around them to a stripped and partially torn-down wall. Through the hole, enough light shines in to see the massive brick fireplace. The mantel’s long gone in what seems to be a forgotten parlor.

I scan the high ceilings, only checking the viewfinder to make sure it’s capturing the crown molding. I want to see it all with my own eyes.

As I’m coming back, I film the grand staircase, spiraling up into darkness. The intricate carvings on the banisters break my heart. So much beauty to be destroyed.

“All right, ladies,” Dev announces, and I swing around to see him and Felix in the center of the room. They’ve pulled down their beak and bandana, their grins downright salacious as they peruse the five women in front of them. “Whoever catches you keeps you for the night.”

The women exchange quick glances, but none of them appear against the idea of being hunted down for what will likely end in sex. One is already slipping off her heels.

I stop recording and let the camera tip to the side. Any more footage will end up useless anyway. No chance the label wants the world to know about how the guys divvy up chicks for tonight.

Surprisingly, I’ve only stumbled in on rock star sex twice so far. Most wheres and whens to avoid are obvious, but Dev also informed me they’re being gentlemanly for my sake.

Doggy-style on the bus’s floor in front of the couches fits that definition in his case.

Colton’s actually discreet, typically reappearing from between the buses after concerts with his chosen flavor of the night or re-zipping on their way out of the restrooms at venues. A wink when he sees me is more than enough confirmation.