I was running early, but the drive back into Sacramento proper from UC Davis was quicker than I thought it was going to be. Parking near Asher's bus was the best way to return the jacket. I just had to psych myself up for it. I took off his jacket, and it still had a smokey, spicy scent. Asher distilled into a leather jacket. In the back of my mind, I could hear my brain telling me. If you bring that jacket up to your nose and sniff it like a creeper, you will be slapped. I took my brain's advice. Barely.

The tour bus shadow was long in the early morning Sacramento light. A quick check for the Asher Van or bike and it wasn't there. I breathe a sigh of relief. It's not that I'm avoiding him. I'm strategically taking advantage of opportunities when he's not around. Ya right, keep letting that college-level vocab lie for you. My self-chiding was vicious and but the point with how right it was. The self-recrimination was a hundred percent correct. I had to get over whatever I felt for Asher. The way he does intimacy and relationships isn't the same way I think about it. What I feel for him is a big deal for me, but it might be something completely different for him, like messing around. I also need to realize that I might see things we do as important and not casual. If I had the capacity to not, this would be fun, but I'm setting myself up for a fall. I can't help liking Asher. From the first time, he called me Birdy, he had me. But it has to be casual, hit it, and quit it at any time for someone like him. Otherwise, why else would we keep getting reset to nearly zero every time we take one step forward?

I carry Asher's leather jacket heavy in my arms. It would have made me feel better to kick a rock, but instead, I head for the back door of the arena. Time to get this music sheet to Megumi and make sure Paulie doesn't get a second chance to screw us over. Then leave the jacket in the dressing room, maybe. I wave as I pass by the music tech prepping for rehearsals later today.

My hand extends to open the backdoor, but it bursts open. A little girl with a ponytail to the side in full 80s with punk-style clothing runs out. Her cherubic looks don't match the punk aesthetic, but it's still cute. I shift my footing left, but we both seem to have the same idea. She slams into my legs at full speed.

"Ouuhgfh, whoa slow down," I say with a smile. The hit hurt a little, but she couldn't have been more than seven or eight. It wasn't a huge deal. The little girl flashes me a pixie grin mixed with a little bit of mischief. She needed a steadying. Her smile finds a way to get bigger. But then a look of terror crossed up her expression. "What's wrong?" I ask her, but before she can answer Paulie comes rushing out of the backdoor. He was followed shortly by Megumi.

"Mia! I told you more than once this isn't a playground." I felt like an intruder listening to the conversation between the little girl and Paulie. Something felt off deep in my bones. Besides, I'm not sure where this kid came from. I simply wouldn't trust Paulie with house plants, let alone a child. Paulie grabs hold of the little kid's arm. His hand dwarfs her thin arm in his hold. I hand the paperwork to Megumi and she's so obviously upset with her stiff expression. Maybe she's as iffy about this situation as I am.

My stomach turns and I just couldn't let this go on.

"Mia?" I said her name as a question, but it seemed to stop Paulie's berating. "Do you have a parent or guardian here?" I assumed maybe she was a performer's kid who got lost.

"This is between me and her," Paulie says with a smiley reply.

"I think unless she's your daughter that we need to find her parents." That seems to silence Paulie. His plastered smile slips from his face.

"Megumi, you handle this." He walks off without looking back.

Megumi scowls at the suit-clad back of Paulie, saying everything it needed to loudly. But there was patience in her eyes for the little girl in front of her. Megumi's gaze came up to meet mine, and we shared a concerned look.

"Mia?" I asked her again.

"Teddy... Can I call Teddy?" She answered.

"Like the bear?" I ask her.

"No, can I borrow your phone?" Mia says.

"Sure." I hand her the phone and to make the call. At the end of the phone call, Mia takes my hand and catches me off guard. She heads straight towards the Asher's tour bus. Mia's petite shoulders slumped, a bit crestfallen. When she first ran into me, I couldn't think about her as anything but a little punk pixie within those few seconds. Cherubic and a bit hoppy, young, and full of life in a way. She was cute and then, when Paulie caught up to her, something caved in about her. The mischievous disappeared, replaced by worry with her head down. She pulls a key from her neck and opens the door to the tour bus. I mouth over Mia's head at Megumi that I got this. She nods to me and gives me a smile of thanks, then runs back for the back door of the Arena shuffling the music I gave her.

"Is this where you live?" I ask her.

"Not exactly." Mia's eyes shift away from me. I enter the bus. What have I gotten into?

***

Mia knew where everything was. She got a stool from below the cabinet, then stepped up to fill her cup with ice and water. The gold chain around her neck swings with the little key she forgot to put back inside her t-shirt. I'm not sure what to make of it. She lives here or has lived here. Mia's small feet move towards the circle couch and I am so glad I'm black because I would be red. That's the same couch as ... I cut the thought off quickly.

"Do you want to sit at the kitchen counter while we wait, Mia?" She turns and makes a B-Line for the seats and sits down there with her water instead. I really don't want to pry, but what if the person who shows up isn't her guardian? Simply, don't know enough about what is going on. "Do you live here?"

Her eyes shift away from me and she says nearly seconds before she takes a sip of her drink. "Sometimes," Mia's reply was cryptic. When I looked at Mia's features, she does have that Kells look about her in the hazel eyes most of all.

The door to the bus opens. Asher, Rux, and a large black man who looks a lot like Rux comes in. Worry can be read across all three men's faces. I've only known Rux for a short time. Normally, he does that whole bearded hard-ass no-expression thing like a pro. But Rux is uncharacteristically anxious, just like the other two men.

"Mia, what were you thinking of running away?" Mia didn't move from her spot to respond to Asher's words. If anything, Mia's stubborn expression wasn't hard to miss as she hunkers down for war. I try to edge my way carefully for the door as Asher races to Mia and scoops her up from the stool. "I'm calling your grandparents. You're going home now."

"No," she yells. "This is home, uncle Asher!" I stop in my tracks in all the news media. Dustin Kells didn't have a daughter. Mia Kells doesn't exist anywhere in the public. Maybe it was my complete movement stop that drew his eyes away from her. But Asher's expression was like a laser-guided missile to me. As if he found his target and was waiting to hit the red button, then boom. As if he could explode me and solve the problem he would. His expression was terrible. Asher's mood reminded me of when we first kissed and he got that angry flash to him. So, god damn angry.

"Rux, can you take Sabali into the studio? I'd like to talk to her later. Teddy, call-"

"No, no, no, this is my home. You don't want me!" Mia's explosion was beyond nuclear. Her whole little body was shaking in Asher's arms. I gave a quick glance at the closed bus door. I thought about just going, but compounding Asher's problems seemed a little fucked up at the moment. I followed Rux into the studio. Instead of the barbershop chair he used to tattoo my neck, it was completely set up for studio recording. Rux closed the door, Mia's unconsolable sobs as the door slowly shut with a click. The soundproofing kicked in, leaving just me alone in the studio and my stomach in knots.

***

When Asher walked in through the connecting door from the other bus, his head wasn't held high. His messy hair covered most of his face. It was an Asher I knew that I wish I didn't. It so reminded me of the one that was on stage and was gutted by Paulie for entertainment.

Expose. I couldn't help it, I felt for him.

I stayed on the bus because I felt like if I left, it would have been more of a problem. But what can he really say to me? I know and I can't unhear it. Dustin Kells has a daughter, and the press doesn't know about her. On top of that, Paulie knows, and he's a bit of a snake, so for some reason, he's not exploiting her. Which is weird in itself.

"I promise I won't tell anyone. I had a feeling it was a secret when I heard it and I wish it would have been something you might have maybe told me or not instead of me just overhearing something." I barely took a breath in my babbling long stupid run-on sentence. My attempt to imbue my words with as much sincerity as I possibly could. I wasn't going to tell a soul, not even Zo.

Asher pushes his hair back with both hands. Two-handed, that's new he must really not be happy. No fancy suit today, just a normal Asher in jeans and a white shirt. I thrust his leather jacket into his hands. He takes it and his face changes into this expression of puzzlement. Ya, I guess this is not the return of your shit moment. It's like my whole life is one big Wheelz adventure. Your extra uncool moments with a Z attached to make it super uncool.

I wanted to give him something, even if it was dumb. It wouldn't be an equal value return, but maybe... maybe it would work. I brought my uncool, cringe shit only found and located in one of my journals, and worst I was about to say it out loud. Saying it to someone other than Zoey was so weird.

"In college, my name is Wheelz, because I'm always the designated driver."

"You don't drink at parties?"

"I don't drink alcohol ever." The complete non sequitur caught him off guard. He was looking at me like I was an alien.

"Ever?"

"Yep..."

"Do you have a drinking problem?"

"Nope."

.....

I left the words hanging. The only way to slightly fix this was to give him some dirt. I might not have anything on the same level as a secret child of my brother, but I can do highly embarrassing. The long sigh was audible, but I was going to need to explain this.

"I don't drink and my friends started calling me Wheelz. I didn't mind, but it was embarrassing as fuck. They were really nice people. We weren't best friends like Zoey is to me, but they were fun and nice." I sighed because it's dumb in comparison but deeply personal at the same time. "I never told them not to and really, I don't mind. But it's hard to tell college friends that the reason you don't like to drink is that you want to remember every second. Because when you get to see your mom again, you want to be able to tell her everything. It's corny, very Wheelz like they call me, but I stick to it. Way too heavy a topic for my friends, who ended up pledging a sorority. Just didn't fit."

His look of puzzlement shifts into a small smile and it was almost as good as a victory.

"Wheels?" He says to me,

"Wheelz." I correct him and spell it out for him. He barks a laugh and his eyes light up for a second. All the nebulous space eyes that I do like seeing. "With a Z the Z makes it so much worse."

"Ok, Wheelz, can I call you that?"

"I wish you wouldn't." I laughed, but honestly, I didn't mind. "Ok, from time to time, but not all the time."

"So, does that mean you like it when I call you Birdy better?" He said with a mischievous smile. Asher knew what he was doing. His thumb brushed against my neck the bird ink all healed up.  Goosebumps followed in the wake of his touch. 

Heat rushed into my cheeks. I was embarrassed as fuck because I'd come to love it when he called me that. A part of me gets so damn gooey so quickly when Birdy rolls off his lips. But telling him that felt too exposed. Damn him, he was waiting for an answer all the same.

"Yes," I reply to him quietly. Thankful again that I wasn't going to turn beet red.

"Alright Birdy."

"We cool," I ask him?

"Yes," he sighs and I can't say the sigh was relaxation or worry, but I'll take it.

A/n: thank you for reading! You know what to do comment, share, and star. It helps the book reach more people :).