“Backup just got here. I’ll see you to your car first.” He held his palm out to her.
She shook her head and waved at the building. “I have to get in there. Brek’s sister…she’s having her baby and he’s going to be an uncle and he’s not answering his phone.”
“Velma.” Jase jogged to her, out of breath. “Holy shit, it’s a mosh pit.”
“She fell,” Wayne said, rubbing her shoulder.
Fine, so she had taken a small tumble. It hardly counted.
“I saw. That car totally came out of nowhere. Way to nail the landing, though.” Jase raised his eyebrows at Wayne’s hand resting on her shoulder. “Who are you?”
“Wayne. Friend of Velvet’s,” he replied. Velma absolutely noticed that he didn’t offer his hand to Jase. Nope. It stayed right on her shoulder. She subtly shifted to try to knock it free.
Didn’t work.
“We grew up together.” Velma checked her phone. Still nothing.
She shook off Wayne’s hand,stillon her shoulder. This time he let it fall.
The radio on Wayne’s shoulder crackled to life.
Velma couldn’t make out what they said on the other end. “What’s happening?”
“Crowd’s too big. Fire marshal’s clearing the sidewalk.” Gosh, why did Wayne’s eyes always have to be so freaking kind?
“There’s no way in, Jase. How are we going to get in ther—”
Jase put a finger up to her lips. “No more blah-blah. Go home and put some ice on your ass. Let me do this my way.”
Gah. His way involved climbing on a Dumpster. With a side of breaking and entering.
She batted his fingertip away.Enough already with all the craziness of this night.
“Fine.” Velma stood, but crud her hip really hurt. She winced and sat back down. Ice sounded really good right about now.
Jase raised his I-told-you-so eyebrows.
“If you want to try to catch Brek, that’s great. I’ll call his mom with an update and head…home.” She looked to Wayne. “I can walk myself to my car.”
“Nope.” Wayne glanced to the unruly crowd. “I’ll see you get out of here in one piece.” He held his hand to her once more. This time, reluctantly, she took it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The deep bass of Dimefront’s signature chorus pulsated through the building as the band rocked the stage. Brek felt those chords down to his marrow, but he pulled the contract closer. Tonight, he had business.
Hans shouted across the small table, but hearing was impossible. Even this far away from the speakers, the music filled every molecule of air.
Brek stilled his tapping foot. He used to crave the sensation—the music, the lights, the endless string of women and booze.
Tonight, he only craved Velma.
Hans whisked the pen along on the dotted line. Brek let out a breath of relief. He folded the papers and smacked them against his hand, the tempting pull of the exit a siren’s song. He needed to get to Velma. Explain to her everything that had happened. Or…almost everything.
“Looking forward to the future.” Hans stuck out his hand.
Brek shook it. “Me, too.”
Brek and Hans had not only come to an agreement with the band that they’d stay together through the scheduled tour, but Hans would act as full manager when Brek needed to be home. If everything went as they’d discussed, Brek wouldn’t have to travel as much in the future, and he could focus his attention on all that he now had in Denver.
