New Management

Twenty minutes later, the door to the Green Room opened.

But they didn't go out into the hallway where the engagement party was in full swing. They went out the back exit, pushing through the heavy steel door into the alleyway behind the club.

The night air was cool and smelled of city grit, but to Roxy, it felt fresh.

"My set starts in five," Jax said, checking his watch. He didn't look worried. He looked energized.

He took off his leather jacket and draped it over Roxy’s shoulders. It was heavy, warm, and smelled like him. It felt like armor.

"You're going to miss the shots," Jax noted, lighting a cigarette and offering it to her. She shook her head.

"I don't like tequila anyway," Roxy said, pulling the jacket tighter. "I hate *Soft Crash*. The music is too twee. And I hate the name."

"I know," Jax said. "I've heard you play. You hold back. You play the root notes because Liam can't handle a complex bass line."

Roxy laughed. It was a real laugh, sharp and bright. "He really can't."

Jax took a drag of his cigarette, watching her. "My bassist is quitting. Moving to Portland to open a coffee shop."

Roxy looked at him. "Okay."

"I need a new bassist. Someone who can keep up."

"Are you offering me a job?"

"I'm poaching you," Jax corrected. "Quit the band, Roxy. Quit the boy. Come on tour with *Viper*. We play louder, we drive faster, and the lead singer isn't an idiot."

Roxy thought about it. She thought about the van rides with Liam and Sarah discussing wedding venues. She thought about playing the same four chords for the rest of her life.

Then she looked at Jax. The wolf. The man who had seen her when she was invisible.

"I'm expensive," Roxy warned.

Jax smirked, stomping out his cigarette. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I can afford you."

The back door opened, and the stage manager poked his head out. "Jax! Two minutes!"

Jax stepped back toward the door. He held out his hand.

"Coming?"

Roxy didn't look back at the club. She didn't look back at the past three years. She took his hand.

"Yeah," she said. "Let's go make some noise."

She followed him into the dark, ready to finally play her own rhythm.