I was once able to pull it off the flame, away from the fire, allowing me to survive.

I walk over and lean against a rock wall closer to the ocean as I flick the Zippo open then closed, open then closed, open then closed. The waves come close to hitting my boot, but not quite as I put the unlit cigarette between my lips and flick the lighter, shielding the flame as I bring it up to light my cigarette. I smell the lighter fluid, a scent I have always enjoyed, regardless of what memories it brings back, as I suck on the brown filter lighting my smoke.

I savor the taste, the burn, the feeling it gives me as I inhale, watching the ocean intensely and witnessing the storm that is now at a slow boil.

***

I walk into Forever Four, seeing Memphis’s sister Madison on the phone at the reception station. I assume she’s making travel arrangements for the tour.

She nods to the conference room, and I head in.

“You get lost?” River asks.

I look up, my stomach turns, and I feel my lip curl. I am looking at her, the girl who has her hand on the knob, turning up the heat that urges the flames from the slow boil to a rapid one.

She looks up, her cool demeanor fueling the flame even more.

I point to her. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Finn, that’s enough,” Taelyn says calmly.

“Enough? That bitch tried to bite me,” I snap.

“You wouldn’t let go of my elbow,” she says, leaning back and straightening her skirt.

“You were threatening to expose my band mate’s cock all over the fucking—”

“Finn!” Xavier says loudly enough to penetrate the ringing in my ear she caused.

“What! You seriously can’t tell me—”

“She’s working for us now. Have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand.”

I am pissed—beyond pissed. I know damn well this isn’t gonna work out well, professionally or personally. The minute I’m around her, she makes it impossible to ignore her.

“That’s fine,” Xavier states. “But remember this is a team; everyone is here to help you become—”

“And to make money off my music.”

“Our music,” River says with a little ass behind his words.

I pace back and forth as they talk schedule. I don’t even give a damn.

Xavier walks over, shuts the door, and clears his throat. “Forever Four has signed Stevie and her band—” Memphis and I both begin objecting, but he holds up his hand. “It’s not up for discussion. It was necessary.”

Memphis snarls. “How is that—”

“You two both fucked her.” Xavier throws his hands in the air. “This was best—”

“I’ve fucked a lot of women,” I retort.

“Finn,” Taelyn begins, “she’s talented. It was smart business. She’s got a great following, also great business.”

“So why is she here?” I point to … her.

“She’s here to make sure Steel Total Destruction’s following grows as big, if not bigger, than Stevie’s.”

“What the hell does None-ya have to do with music?”

“Not a thing, but she is a social media genius,” Taelyn answers.

I glare at her, pissed that they have already made up their fucking minds and don’t care what their decision is doing to me.

“Well, what the—”

“Beckett, you are talking to my wife,” Xavier snaps.

I look at Taelyn, who is scowling at Xavier. “I’m assuming she can handle herself.”

“As can I.” I look at None-ya as she stands up and walks to the table. “I’m not here to interrupt your flow of genius or stop the spread of your disease. I was hired to make you look more appealing.”

“As if that’s even possible.” River chuckles.

“With our band’s name, it won’t hurt,” Billy speaks up. I look at him as he flips through his phone. “She has two point five million followers on social media. I have fifty thousand. What do you have, Finn?”

“I don’t need that shit,” I answer. “I want to make fucking music.”

“That’s perfect. You make music; I create a social media presence for you and the band,” she says, standing closer than I want her to. She looks up at me. “That’s all. Nothing to do with your music.”

Her eyes aren’t soft like her voice. There is a harshness behind them. They are lying.

I look past her at Xavier. “You trust her?”

He nods. “She has your schedules. We leave in two days. You’ll each need to meet with her so she can get some background on you and start growing your social media presence.”

Unreal. Un-fucking-real.

We sit in the conference room with None-ya for over an hour, setting up and linking profiles and passwords. She is really helpful to everyone except me, probably ’cause I don’t ask a damn question.

“Is everyone all set?” she asks finally, looking around. When her eyes land on me, I look away. “Finn? You haven’t asked for any help.” She walks over and takes my phone, just takes the shit like it’s hers. She stiffens, then sets it in front of me.

“Don’t need it,” I say, trying to ignore the way her presence fucks with me.

“The rest of you are all set. Finn, you’ll need to hang back for a while,” None-ya says nonchalantly, like it’s no big deal that I don’t want to be around her, and it’s obvious she feels the same.

“Tonight. Our place. Celebration time. Hurry it up, man,” Memphis yells over his shoulder as the three of them leave me behind … with her.

“You do need me.”

I stand up, expecting her to step back. When she doesn’t, I lean down. “I don’t need shit.”

“What is your problem?” she asks, eyeballing me.

“You. You’re my problem. Yesterday, you’re ready to fuck Memphis and Tales up for what?”

Her eyebrows rise. “A paycheck.”

“So, you have that little dignity that you’ll just sellout for whoever hands you a wad of cash?” I fucking knew she was nothing except a money-grubbing, little piece of ass who knows how to work what she has.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing? Selling your words, your …” She stops as she fumbles around with my phone and somehow hits play on a song I was working on. She stops and listens.

I reach for my phone, but she pulls it away.

“Give it back.”

She doesn’t respond, only turns her back to me.

I reach around in front of her, but she clutches it tightly.

“I’m not fucking around, None-ya. Give me the damn—”

“Why hasn’t this been released?” she asks finally, letting go of the phone.

“That’s not any of your concern,” I say as I let her scent fill me up. Bad fucking idea; she smells damn good … for a bitch.

When I don’t step back, she looks up and over her shoulder at me. “Could you move out of my way?”

“You put yourself between me and the desk, so you can get out without me moving.”

As she stares at me right in the fucking eye, not a word is said, and I see something mixed with hate, something that calls to me. Something softer, less siren, more … submissive. Or is that just my semi-erect dick thinking for me?

“Oh, I see.”

“See what?” She finally slides out from between me and the table.

“You think you can get me in bed.” I give out a low laugh. “You think I’m your next twenty Gs?” Teasing temptress.

“You think I want you?” she huffs, straightening her hair.

“Maybe not me. Maybe the paycheck, the experience. Whatever it is, it’s not gonna happen.” I would make damn sure of it.

“What the hell makes you think I would touch you for either?” she retorts, spinning on her heels.

I shake my head. “You either wanna fuck me or kill me.”

“Is that right? So you know me and my intentions? The nerve,” she huffs.

“Not nerve, recognition,” I say as I walk past her and out the door before I end up giving her what her eyes are telling me she wants… or maybe it’s the reflection of mine in hers.

Never in my life have I been this fucking riled up about a chick. Never, and I don’t like it.

Hearing her heels click against the floor quickly behind me, I stop, and she runs right into me. I turn, and for some fucking reason, I grab her elbow as her ass is about ready to kiss the ground. I pull her up, and she scowls.