Lacey…I still couldn’t get her name in my head, thinking of her instead as “Zack’s mom” or “Ms. Ryan.” But Braden had known her far longer than I had and she considered him a second son. They had a great relationship—but I didn’t see how anyone couldn’t with her. Although she could have been considered a fierce defender of her son, she was warm and loving with all his friends.
“Thanks.” Shoelaces tied, I stood, smoothing down my shirt. “Call me later and let me know.” I gave him a peck on the cheek.
“I’m gonna scrape your windshield.”
Oh…sweet Braden. He’d been doing that ever since I’d started spending the night at his place. He’d go out and start my car, scraping off the frost and getting it nice and warm before I left. But he didn’t need to do that today. “There’s nothing to scrape. It’s getting warm outside.”
“There’s probably ten inches of snow on your car. I’ll brush it off for you.”
I sighed. “Fine. Let’s do it together.”
Hand in hand, we walked down the stairs…and I reminded myself that I was the luckiest girl in the world. It had become a mantra.
CHAPTER 18
After that, the time flew. We had a successful fourth leg of that tour in May and made a final video for our third single—and fans were loving the album. Although it had gotten mixed reviews, the people buying our music voted with their dollars. Zack was healthier than I’d seen him in years: color in his cheeks, a twinkle in his eyes, and he’d gained some weight back.
His well-being made the band healthy. Even Cy seemed far more relaxed than he’d been in a while.
We also played a couple of summer festivals like the year before, but our slots were later in the day—and, thanks to the second festival, I got to spend some time with Roxy.
This one was in Florida, and it was hot and humid—but the festival was close enough to the beach that we could smell the ocean, and I planned to spend some time there before we flew back home.
But late that night, Roxy and I hung out while the guys made plans to network with some of the bands. Mick hadsaid, “It’s gonna have a party atmosphere, son. I don’t think you should be around alcohol right now.”
Zack shook his head. “I gotta get used to it, man. It’s not like I can avoid it forever. Besides, Bray and Cy got my back. They’ll keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Braden looked worried but nodded—and Cy, as usual, was hard to read…but both reassured Mick that they’d get Zack out of there if he was struggling.
I tried to put that all out of my mind as Roxy and I hung in her hotel room. Both of us were drinking rum and Coke that was a little too heavy on the rum. But I didn’t mind. Braden already knew I’d be crashing with Roxy. She had a double bed and didn’t mind sharing—and we planned to get tipsy.
As usual, we talked about music first—not just about Riot, but about lots of other bands we loved. In that regard, Roxy was so similar to Zack in that we felt passionate about music in a way that most people didn’t.
But wedidhave one slight disagreement. “What do you think of Jokers Wilder’s new album?” I asked. It had just come out in June and I’d been listening to it, loving every track, probably because it sounded a lot like their earlier music.
“I’ve only heard the first single a few times. I’m not a fan.”
“What?Why not?” I took a huge gulp of my drink.
“I don’t like their new guitarist.”
“Why? He’s amazing—and I love that this album sounds like their first one.”
“I’m still pissed that they kicked out Quentin.”
“I don’t think they kicked him out. Didn’t he quit?”
Roxy laughed. “Yeah…but still. Elijah’s a fucking egotistical prick. Quentin just got sick of it.” I didn’t know the guys in that band, so I had to take Roxy’s word for it. She got up and walked to the table where she unscrewed the lid off the rum. “Zack will probably end up that way if he doesn’t watch it.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“How’s he doing, by the way?”
“What do you mean?” I took a sip of my drink, realizing my head was starting to feel a little light and my teeth were beginning to feel numb…meaning I probably should have switched to water, but I was enjoying myself with my friend.
“After rehab—how’s he holding up?”
“Wait, what? You knew about that?”
