He didn’t have an answer to that.

Behind him, one of the crew stuck his head through the door and knocked on the wall to get the band’s attention.

He didn’t have to say anything. They’d been on tour for years. A couple of the guys groaned. Baz didn’t know where they were headed next, but apparently the trip was going to be a long one and the guys weren’t looking forward to getting back on the bus.

As they started to gather their stuff, they all shook Baz’s hand and told him to keep in touch.

Then it was only Baz and Gina and Zach. And Baz realized he needed to leave so they could have some privacy.

Walking up to Gina, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Good to see you, babe. You sound fucking great.”

Her smile forced him to smile back. “It was nice to see you, too.” She cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward to kiss him. At one time, he would’ve gotten hard at her nearness. He’d lusted after this woman for long, frustrating months several years ago, but nothing had ever come of it. Now, her kiss did nothing for him. Because all he could think about was the heat he’d generated with Tru.

When she pulled away, much quicker than she would have even a year ago, she gave his face a shake.

“Don’t be such a fucking stranger. We missed you. And take care.”

He nodded and smiled, the action feeling a little more natural than it had in ages.

“Baz, wait around for me, okay?” Zach clasped his shoulder, his expression plainly showing his worry that Baz would refuse.

“Absolutely. I’ll be in Xander’s office.”

He didn’t want to go to the bar, didn’t want to deal with the inevitable recognition and well-meaning fans who’d want to talk. Before, he would’ve loved it. Would’ve shared a few drinks and talked music for hours.

Tonight, he just wasn’t into it. So he was going to hide in the office. Yes, hide.

Christ, he was a fucking mess.

No wonder Tru had run. She was brilliant, after all.

With a sigh, he stalked through the hall with his head down, not making eye contact with anyone. Luckily, no one stopped him and he made it without incident.

But when he got to the office, he realized he had way too much to think about and way too much time to think about it.

Christ almighty, he’d fucked up.

He couldn’t sit, but Xander’s office wasn’t huge, and he ended up wearing a path in the floor as he waited for Zach to arrive.

His brain kept ping-ponging between thoughts of Tru and Zach until he was ready to tear out his hair. Or drink himself into a coma. And that was dangerous.

He didn’t know how long he’d waited but by the time Zach arrived, Baz had decided alcohol was definitely needed, and when Zach finally walked through the door, Baz was waiting, ready to head back out.

Zach’s wide grin forced him to stop. To slow down. And to give himself to the relief that swept over him when Zach wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Damn, it’s good to see you.” Zach pulled away so he could look at Baz.

Baz took the time to check out his friend as well.

Zach looked . . . happy.

His hazel eyes held no trace of a buzz, from either drugs or alcohol. Then again Zach had never been one to get fucked up for no reason other than that it was Monday or Sunday or any day in between.

Yeah, he could pound enough liquor to put an overgrown frat bro to shame but, more often than not, Zach just didn’t. And drugs were totally off limits with him for his own reasons.

His unruly mane of ginger curls had been cut down to short waves that made him look halfway respectable.

Baz had always been the one his bandmates ragged on for looking normal. With all his tattoos covered, he could pass for a kindergarten teacher.

Zach usually looked like a wild man. He’d let his hair grow down to his shoulders so he could pull it back in a bushy tail when he played. He’d always carried a few more pounds than everyone else but today the guy looked seriously ripped. Like maybe he worked out at the gym a few hours every day and ate hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The guy made Baz look anorexic by comparison

“Dude, what the fuck happened to you? You hulked the fuck out.”

Zack laughed and slapped Baz on the shoulder as he shook his head. “Too much time on my hands, man. Needed some way to blow off the steam.”

Which was all Baz’s fault.

“Fuck, man. I didn’t mean that as an insult.” Zach shook his head. “Dude, seriously, not everything’s your fault. Not to thank you for nearly killing yourself or anything, but these past few months have been good for me. Seriously. I think we all needed a break. I just wish we’d kinda talked things out before it got so bad for you.”

Baz nodded, still not knowing what the fuck to say to one of his best friends. And that totally sucked.

But apparently Zach didn’t have the same problem.

“So, how the fuck are you? And no bullshit this time.”

Looking into Zach’s eyes, he nodded, smiling. “I’m better.”

Zach’s gaze narrowed. “Straight up? You don’t look better, man. Honestly, you still look a little strung out and that worries me.”

Baz opened his mouth to lie, then shut it before he did. He was sick of telling people what they wanted to hear. He had a feeling he wasn’t fooling anyone lately and that was dangerous.

“You have time to get a drink and talk for a while?”

Zach’s grin made a reappearance. “You know it. Where to?”

Baz thought about taking him back to Haven but he didn’t want to run into Sabrina or Greg.

“Up for a walk?”

*  *  *

“Nice digs.” Zach whistled appreciatively as he strolled around the studio at ManDown. “You sleeping with this guy or what?”

Zach’s smile made it clear he wasn’t serious, but Baz still felt like he owed an explanation. “Sometimes I think Greg built the studio here so he could keep an eye on me. But the guy’s just not like that. He built the studio so I’d have a place to work. No strings.”

“And you like writing scores? I mean, I know you’re a musical prodigy and all, but this seems so different.”

“Yeah, it’s different but I like it. It requires different muscles. Know what I mean?”

Zach nodded as he stopped at the baby grand and ran his fingers over the keys. Zach didn’t play the piano. He was one of the best self-taught drummers Baz had ever met, but he had no aptitude for any other instrument. And no desire to play them.

“Looks like a nice setup.”

“It is. But . . . I miss our music.”

Zach finally stopped wandering. “Glad to hear it.” Then he sighed. “Nik’s been talking like you’re not coming back.”

Fuck. “That’s bullshit.”

Zach nodded, leaning back against piano, staring straight at Baz. “Good. So when are you coming back? ’Cause I gotta say, I’m getting fucking bored as hell waiting around.”

And now the guilt fell on his shoulders like a ten-ton weight. He was the only reason his band wasn’t producing new music. They were ready. But they needed him. And he continued to let them down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—”

“Nah, man, that’s not why I said that.” Zach shook his head. “I’m not looking to guilt you into anything. I honestly just wanna know how you’re doing. We’re worried about you. All of us.”

“Honestly . . . I’m better than I have been in a while. This movie music is helping me get a little balance. But . . . that’s not all I’ve been working on.”

He hadn’t said anything to anyone, not even Sabrina. It was still too new. And anything he wrote for Baseline Sins came with huge expectations. Even Greg would be psyched if he admitted he was working on new Sins music.

But he had to tell someone and he felt right telling Zach.

Zach’s eyebrows lifted. “So, you gonna tell me what?”

“I’ve got a few measures.” Actually, he had more than a few. He had a fucking computer file full of them. “They need work but . . . yeah. I’ve got some new stuff.”