I reached for my front door, and Riot stepped to the side. Blocking my way just a little bit.
I gave him a warning look, but he didn’t move. “Promise?”
“Promise what?”
“That you’ll think about it.”
It was impossible not to see Riot Kane for the bundle of delicious sex appeal that he was. Even if Ihadn’tbeen serenaded by him during the concert, I would’ve given him my phone number without hesitation if he asked. My knees felt weak at the mere thought of disappointing him.
“I promise,” I breathed. “I’ll think about it.”
5
Cash
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” Milo said. “We have our own actual roadies!”
“Why’d you doubt me?” Violet asked.
“It’s been a good rule to follow up to this point,” Milo replied.
The three of us were standing to the side of the loading dock where our new roadies were packing up the band equipment for the upcoming road trip. Up to this point, we’d had to share roadies with whichever band we were opening for. Which meant we were always the second priority.
Not anymore.
“What else is going to kick ass about touring on our own?” Milo wondered out loud.
“I’m looking forward to seeing the band name above the venue,” Violet said wistfully. “I’m gonna get a selfie in front of every single show.”
“Hell yeah, me too,” Milo agreed.
“This is it,” I said. “Our big break. A chance to make somerealcash.”
“You’re goddamn right,” Violet said, giving me a fist-bump.
Some cursing came from the alley behind us. Milo looked at me and rolled his eyes.
As happy as the three of us were, it was in contrast to the fourth member of the band. Riot had been pouting since the Austin show two days ago. More specifically, because his muse hadn’t returned his phone calls.
And if our frontman stayed in a bad mood on tour…
“You want to talk to him?” Violet whispered to me.
“What am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one who he listens to.”
I gave her a sideways look. “Youknowthat’s not true.”
“Yeah.” She smirked. “But you should talk to him because I don’t wanna.”
“Same,” Milo agreed.
I sighed and walked around the corner to where Riot’s car was parked. Musical instruments were scattered around the area and leaning against the building, waiting for roadies to load them into our truck. Our lead singer was leaning against the building, scrolling on his phone with a big scowl on his face.
“I read the lyrics for the second song you wrote,” I said.
He grunted in response.
