“Love,” I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulder in greeting. I’d watched this guy single-handedly handle entire crowds with his dominating roar, but off-duty, Dom had a funny bone that, when tickled, would induce the funniest damn giggle I’d ever heard. Get him going on some joke and I swear the guy would be bent over in hysterics, gasping for breath.
Like the old friends we were, Dom and I chatted the entire length of the drive to the stadium. Fans lined the sidewalks on the street that led to the bus entrance of the arena. As our car was stopped by stadium security, screams erupted from the crowds.
“They think you’re Jake,” Dom laughed, shaking his head. “Idiots.”
I rolled down the window just enough to stick my hand out and wave. The roar that immediately went up was deafening. I continued my greeting until Dom started rolling the window up on my hand.
“Really?” he questioned, eyeing me in amusement.
“What? I was being friendly.”
“No. You were lying to hoards of Jake’s fans.”
“Oh, please. You’re always so detail-oriented. You need a vacation.”
“Yeah, well, unlike you, I have to work for a living.”
His words hit me. I knew how the crew viewed me – hell, we even kidded about it, which was clearly what Dom was doing now – but I wasn’t entirely sure I liked that distinction anymore. We sat in silence for a minute. I could feel Dom evaluating me.
“I was only kidding. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” I replied, trying to appear unaffected by his words. Was I just a fucking joke? In an attempt to steer the conversation away from my shitty work ethic, I asked, “So did you meet Casey?”
“Yep. Nice girl. Everyone loved her.”
“And Jake seemed happy with her?”
Dom glanced in my direction and then looked away.
“Really? You’re going to be a stickler with me?”
“I don’t talk about Jake’s personal life with anyone – not even you, Kyle.”
“Fine, I’ll ask him myself,” I grumbled.
“You do that,” he smiled. “And leave my name out of it.”
Dom dropped me off at the bus. The door was locked, so I knocked lightly. After a moment, Lassen opened it.
“Hey,” he said hastily, and then scooted his big, old body back into his space up front.
“Nice to see you again,” I called after him.
“Yep, I can’t talk. I’m watching a soccer game right now.”
“Since when do you watch soccer?”
“Since it’s the only sport on television in all of Europe.”
“Where’s Jake?”
“In his room.”
Walking to the back of the bus, I dropped my bags and then made my way quietly to the bedroom door. It was ajar, so I nudged it open with my foot. Jake was on his stomach on the bed, sleeping, I assumed. I decided to announce my arrival in the most obtrusive of ways, by jumping on his back.
“What the…” Jake grunted, earphones flying out of his ears as he flipped over and smacked me in the face with a pillow. “Don’t do that! Goddammit!”
“Sorry. Sorry,” I said waving my hands. I took in Jake’s wild, crazy eyes and instantly felt bad.
