That was when she pulled away from me. Breathing heavier, she gave me a reproachful look. I shrugged at her in apology. Give me an inch, Kiera, and I’ll take it. Every time. Forgiving my wandering hands, she laughed and gave me a soft, innocent kiss.

“You’re here,” she sighed.

“There was nowhere else I wanted to be,” I told her.

She shook her head and smiled. As we broke apart, I was swarmed by friends from the bar wanting to congratulate me. People wanted to know how it was on the road, wanted to hear funny stories. I told them the few I could think of off the top of my head, and they laughed, making me laugh, and it suddenly felt like I’d never been gone. Until Sam tried to kill me.

“Damn, man, it’s good to see you,” he said, wrapping his mammoth arms around me and squeezing so hard I swear something popped.

“Jesus, Sam,” I said when I could breathe. “Don’t break me.” He smirked at me, and I crooked a grin. “I never would have left if I’d realized just how much you love me.”

He smacked the back of my head. “Jackass,” he muttered.

I laughed at the look on his face, then I noticed that Justin and his band had arrived. Grinning, I made my way over to him. “Hey, man,” I said, extending my hand. “Good timing, we just got here.”

Justin briefly shook my hand before looking around at my old stomping grounds. “This place is cool…I like it.”

“Yeah, this place is great.” Better than great. This place was home.

I indicated the band’s regular table, and we both sat down to start people watching. Everything here was so damn familiar—the wall of guitars behind the stage, the glowing neon signs in the windows, the worn floors, the chip in the table where Griffin had damaged it, my friends lounging around, relaxing, talking, laughing, Jenny giggling at Evan, Kiera at the bar, smiling at me as she grabbed me a drink…Rita undressing me with her eyes. Seeing all the things I was used to filled me with peace. There was really only one thing that was slightly different here…and it made a weird sort of sadness wash through me. The instruments resting on the stage. I was so used to seeing our shit there, but the bright Poetic Bliss logo on the drum set, and the electric blue, neon pink, and deep purple guitars loudly proclaimed the stage as being someone else’s. I once thought we’d come back here after the tour ended, reclaim our weekly gig, but now…I wasn’t so sure. Like it or not, things were different.

But not completely different.