Jace (Kings of Country 1)

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jace lied. Something was up; he could feel it.

“I need your help.” Heather tugged him up the stairs and opened her suitcase. “What do I wear?”

He and Heather spent the next few hours picking out different outfits, talking about her classes, the “hot” TA in her Western Civilization class, and how badly she wanted a cat.

“No to the cat and hell no to the hot TA. What’s wrong with this?” He held up a feed store shirt. “It’s a concert, not an awards show. That’s Sunday, so we’ve got time to get you whatever it is you need for that. Hopefully Krystal or Emmy can help with that. If not, I’ll call Calvin.” He’d told her all about the quirky stylist.

She grinned. “You’re not performing tonight, right?”

“Nope, just walking in, shaking some hands.” He tossed the T-shirt at her. “Maybe after we can go see that movie with the chick from outer space who—”

“Meaning you’re not dying to stay and watch the whole show?” She dropped her T-shirt on the bed. “Isn’t, like, everyone going to be there?”

He shook his head. “It’s more an opening-act kind of night.”

“But you are playing with the headliners on Sunday.” She smiled. “That doesn’t freak you out? Like whoa, that is my brother up there.” She flopped onto the bed beside him. “I mean, I still think of you as shy, super-private—”

“That went out the window when Next Top American Voice made my life into a viral video.” He tugged a strand of her hair.

“Sorry.” She did look sorry. “But, you know, it all worked out.” She picked up the feed store shirt. “Are you sure about this?”

“Nope.” He smiled. “Why do you think I wear black all the time? And it’s in my contract.”

She laughed. “Guess I’ll get ready.”

He nodded. “Sounds good.” He closed her door behind him and headed for his room. Sending Krystal another text. Is a feed shirt something Heather can wear tonight?

She didn’t want to answer a question about what was going on, maybe she’d answer a text about Heather. He put his phone on the charger and took a quick shower. As he toweled off, he checked—still no message from Krystal.

“Dignity?” He put the phone back on the charger. It’d help if he could shake the unease knotting his stomach.

“Fine.” He pulled out the box of grooming supplies Calvin had left for him.

When he’d gently but firmly told Calvin he could get himself ready for ACMF, he’d expected a protest. Calvin didn’t protest, but he did leave a detailed list on “the right way” to do his hair and his wardrobe for the entire festival.

“Ten steps?” He stared at the how-to list for his hair. “What the hell is pomade?” He dug through the pinstriped bin Calvin had taken great care in organizing. “Screw this.”

His phone pinged. Krystal. Feed store shirt is perfect. Does she have boots? She needs boots.

He grinned. “Needs, huh?” Heather had boots. Whether she brought them with her was another story.

I’ll see what I can find. Did Travis eat your cake?

No cake for me. My butt is getting too big—Travis says.

He frowned, his thumbs flying. Travis is full of shit. You can tell him I said so. Your butt isn’t too big. It’s just right.

I hope you and Heather have fun tonight.

He leaned against the counter. Be better having you on my arm. He hesitated. You okay?

Call me when you get home. We need to talk.

There was nothing comforting about those words. He went from uneasy to worrying. If he hadn’t promised Luke he’d put in an appearance, he’d be asking Hank if he could stop by. But he’d promised, so he dressed in his Calvin-approved attire and frowned. “Seriously, man?”

“You ready?” Heather called. “I sent Krystal a pic and she approved.”

He pulled the door open. “Looking good.” He glanced down at his skin-tight black shirt. The damn sleeves were short and rolled tight. “Well, I’m pretty sure this is my stylist’s idea of revenge for telling him I can dress myself.”