I nod. “Yeah, we do.”
His arms come around me and we hug it out.
“Welcome back, mate,” Johnny growls in my ear before smacking a kiss on my cheek.
I thump on his back, laughing. “It’s good to be here.” Releasing Johnny, I reach down to unclip the satchel I have hanging over my shoulder. “I’ve got a ton of new material to show you.” I pull a spiral music book out of the bag, along with a wad of scrap paper with jotted notes and random lyrics.
Johnny’s face lights up. “Someone’s been busy.”
We make ourselves comfortable and start going over the new songs I’ve been working on. I’ve been writing almost non-stop for the past few days. Not all of the songs are worth developing further, but I’ve had one hell of a good time discovering them. These songs are different from the ones I wrote in Sydney, because they don’t come from a place of desperation. And they’re different from the ones I’ve been writing since I came home, because they don’t come from a place of fear. I have a new motivation now, to create the best music of my life, to see how far I can go creatively. It’s the music that matters. What happens after that is less important to me than it used to be.
About an hour later, there’s a knock on the studio door and we all look up. I try to hide my grin as I rush to answer it. “Hey, thanks for coming.” I hold out my hand to greet the hot ginger waiting on the other side. Because, yeah, Toni’s right—he’s hot.
Calum Ellis steps into the room, taking us all in. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
Johnny pops up from his place on the couch. “What are you doing here?”
I lift a hand. “I asked him to come.”
“Ned tells me you may be in the market for a manager, after all.”
Gavin and Oz break out in smiles and come forwards in greeting. Johnny is slower, but when he joins us, he shakes Calum’s hand in a tight grip. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too.” Calum’s cheeks flush and I’m beginning to wonder if that night in the car park isn’t the only time these two have met.
The awkward silence is broken when Gavin rubs his hands together. “So, are you gonna make us famous or what?”
Calum chuckles. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t confident I can make it happen. But it all depends on what your goals are as a band.” He pauses before continuing. “I believe happy bands make the best music and have the best longevity in the industry. Those are two of my most important measures of success. Are you headed in the direction you want to go? And are you having a good time along the way?” He gestures to the nearby chairs, as if he’s already in control of the place. “Shall we sit?”
I lift a hand to cover my grin as Gavin, Oz, and Johnny rush to comply. It’s good to know I’m not the only man here who can be eager to do as he’s told.
Calum comes across like the kind of guy we could work well with. Plus, he handed over a list of his clients. I’ve been in touch with a number of them over the last couple of days. Without fault, they all talked about him in glowing terms.
“All right, gentlemen,” Calum begins once we’re all seated, “let’s have a frank discussion about your future as rock stars.”
THIRTY
______
TONI
Rodney glares at the framed print hanging on the wall. “I still think it’s crooked.”
“You’re crooked,” Leif complains, leaving the frame where it is. “My level tells me the picture is straight.”
Rodney gives him an imperious glare. “Are you certain the thing isn’t broken?”
With a raised eyebrow, Leif lifts the long metal level he’s been using all morning to help hang the fifty or so pieces of art I printed and framed specifically for this weekend. He places the end of the level under Rodney’s chin and gently tilts his head back, forcing their gazes to meet. “Yes, baby. I’m certain it’s not broken.”
Rodney gulps, his cheeks flushing. “Well, then...” His voice has developed a sudden husky quality, and I have to slap a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud. “Let’s move on then, shall we?”
Leif picks up another print and Rodney checks his notes before directing his fiancé to the next room.
I’m still smiling when I feel a warm presence at my back. “At least they’ve refrained from making out in front of everyone,” Ned murmurs in my ear.
Chuckling, I face him. “True.” Since Rodney and I made up three months ago, they’ve been using a tad more discretion when it comes to their amorous natures, at least around me. “Although, if they both disappear at some stage, I think it would be prudent not to go looking for them.”
His hands land on my hips with a gentle squeeze. “Now you’re giving me ideas.”
