Chapter 3

“Wow. My audience is so well behaved compared to yours. I guess you make people a bit wild.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, surprisingly noncommittal. “Just not the ones that matter.” Before he could ask her to elaborate, she tugged on his hand, veering sharply toward a large bus at the edge of the lot. “C’mon, let’s get some breakfast. I can relax enough to eat now I know you’re here.”

Macaulay allowed her to pull him toward her bus, too perplexed to protest. Whenever they ran in to each other at a concert, or a party, or an awards show, or even the studio, they always had a great time together. He felt like he could live off her energy, and he was more than a little in awe of her. She was a powerhouse, an unstoppable force. More talented than anybody really had the right to be. Music poured out of her, in an unconscious, sweet revelation. But he never suspected that spending time with him actually meant so much to her.

“What’s on the menu?” he asked, once they stepped inside her bus.