He’d known Harvey had a brother, just didn’t remember his name. From what Harvey had shared with him, they’d grown up together in the suburbs of Perth and were really close; at least, they had been close until Harvey had travelled across the country to Sydney. Harvey had hated to leave his younger brother, but the pub scene in Sydney was a better fit for him, and thank God he’d made the move, or HyperOctane wouldn’t be what it was today—one of the hottest damn pub bands with one of the best guitarists in the country. Then Parker had moved to London, but Harvey and Parker had kept in regular contact online. Harvey was rapt that “Little bro,” as he called him, had finally moved home to Australia, and Rafe was starting to feel exactly the same way.
“You want another drink, Harvey’s little brother?” Rafe asked, dipping his chin towards Parker’s glass.
He chuckled at Parker’s vigorous head shake, red hair tumbling across his forehead with the movement. The guy obviously didn’t have the stomach for spirits, judging by the way his lip curled at Rafe’s offer. Rafe waved down a passing waiter. “Hey, can you grab me a couple of Cokes and another one of these?” He held his crystal tumbler aloft.
“Sure, thing.”
Rafe emptied his glass and focused back on the man opposite him. Parker still had those amazing green eyes trained on him, and if Rafe didn’t know better, he’d think he saw a hint of appreciation there. Or maybe it was just a rock star fetish? Rafe was sick and tired of meeting people who couldn’t give a shit aboutwhohe was apart from the fact he was the lead singer of his band. He snorted as the lyrics of Eminem and D12 came to mind. But seriously, just once it would be nice to meet someone who saw past the performer.
A hint of a smile touched Parker’s lips, and his eyes sparkled. It might have just been a reflection of the lights of the chandelier that hung over the coffee table, but it was as if sparks were flying, a jolt of electricity that caused a shiver down Rafe’s spine.
“So, what are you getting up to while you’re in Sydney?” Gibbo asked, the mundane question breaking the connection between Rafe and Parker.
Parker swallowed heavily, then turned his attention to Gibbo. Gibbo leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he waited for Parker’s reply. Rafe waited with him.Yeah, what are your plans?Hopefully Parker was hanging in town for a bit.
“I… uh… I’m not sure. Spending some time with Harvey, checking out the city, I guess. Ravi’s only been to Sydney a couple of times, and I haven’t been since I was a kid.”
Hewasstill a kid as far as Rafe was concerned.What is he? Twenty-one?All that peachy smooth skin with the smattering of freckles and not a laugh line in sight.
“Yeah, I thought we’d do a bit of sightseeing, although I’m not sure how much we’ll squeeze in in a week,” Harvey said. “I thought maybe the zoo and a drive to the Blue Mountains. There’s some great abseiling up there.”
“Jesus Christ, Harvey, are you crazy?” Rafe straightened, dropping his feet from the coffee table to the floor. “We leave for the US in a week and you want to go throw yourself off a cliff? What the fuck?”
Harvey smirked. “There’s more chance I’d get hurt in a car accident on the drive to get up there than while abseiling. It’s safe as houses.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.” He looked to Parker. “And what about you? Do you share your brother’s enthusiasm for putting his life on the line?”
Parker shrugged. “His life maybe. Mine? Not so much.”
“Hey!” Harvey elbowed him in the ribs, and Parker laughed. “Ravi, you’d be up for it, right?”
Ravi shrugged. “You know me, always up for some fun.”
“That’s not fun!” Parker exclaimed as Harvey grinned. “This is my holiday, so maybe we should all take it easy and play it safe. Perhaps we try something else a bit less risky. But I was really hoping I’d get to see more of you guys playing. Are you practicing before you head off?”
“You better bloody believe it,” Rafe said. “There’s so much riding on this trip, we can’t afford to fuck it up.”
“You won’t stuff it up. HyperOctane is like a well-oiled machine.” Parker’s smile was wide and genuine, lighting his whole face up.
“Hey, guys. Did you see this?”
Rafe tore his gaze from Parker to see their band manager, Nigel Fortier, waving his mobile phone in the air. He scooted along the couch as Nigel squeezed between him and Gibbo.
“What is it?” Gibbo asked.
“An article inWorld of Rock.”
“What does it say?” Harvey asked, leaning forward.
“Yeah,” RG cut in as he pushed the girl from his lap so she was squished into the seat beside him. “Was it about tonight’s concert? Did they give a glowing review? They’d bloody well better have; it was one of the best concerts we’ve done in ages.”
“Too true. You boys did brilliantly. Talk about ending the tour on a high note. But no. It’s an article from earlier today.” Nigel tapped on his screen, then pushed his wire-frame glasses down from his forehead to his nose. He cleared his throat and began to read. “Little known band from Down Under, HyperOctane, set to appear at Rocktoberfest.”
“What the actual fuck? Little known. What sort of bullshit is that? We’re not fucking little known. Hell, according to that last interview, we’re one of the ‘best new bands to come from the pub scene in Australia.’” RG made air quotes.
Rafe snorted. “New band?” They’d played the pub circuit for years until they’d had their major Aussie chart breakthrough but as far as the media was concerned, they were an overnight sensation.
RG scowled. “You know what I mean. Jesus Christ! Who do they think we are?”
