Knox nodded. “If coming here’s what it’s gonna take to save this thing we’ve got between us? I’m in.”
Linx was already convinced the thing they had between them was dead and atrophied. “I’m playing out my contract. It’ll be through next year.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this.” Knox stepped forward. Then thought better of it, stepping back.
“I don’t play at the whim of the band,” Linx said through gritted teeth. “I don’t anymore. Not after this is done. I’m tired of the bullshit.” He pointed to Knox. “You’re in and out more than a gigolo.” He turned his finger to Bax. “And you’re not much better.” He shook his head. Held up his hands. “I’m done with this.”
Bax shoved his hands at his hips. “We come to Denver. Work from here. We all agree to a new contract—three months. We have three months to make it work. It doesn’t work? Any of us can walk at any time.”
That would’ve been fan-fucking-tastic about three months ago.
“No.” Linx pulled the strap of his bass over his shoulder. “Can we make music now?”
“Linx’s guys become new members of Dimefront.” Brek stood, calm as all shit. Like the band he’d helped shape wasn’t about to dive into its own grave.
“Everyone gets a full vote, right from the beginning. You three. Mach, Tanner. If they decide they want to join up,” Hans said, standing alongside Brek as a united team.
“Oh, they’ll join up,” Knox said. He seemed sure. How the hell was he so certain? “We all know Linx is the heart of the band. Bax is the brain. I’m the asshole. We’ve got an opening for a soul. I think they’ll fill it just fine. That’ll make them…what?”
“The soul,” Hans said, certain as all hell.
“And if it doesn’t work out?” Linx asked. “Three months in, it doesn’t work out? Then what?”
“Then I’ll manage you, Mach, and Tanner. New band. New gig. They’re serious, and they’ve shown it.” Hans crossed his arms at his chest. “That’s the offer.”
Brek started toward the door to the recording booth. “I guess what you boys need to do to save your band—if it’s that important to you—is make some fucking magic.”
Chapter 23
Becca
“Dammit.” The knot on the bracelet slipped, wrecking the last three rows. Becca tossed it to the side of her futon with the other piece she’d been working on.
Before she met Linx, she wouldn’t have used the word indecisive to describe herself, but for some reason she wasn’t able to make a coherent decision about how to approach him. Them.
Gah.
She’d had this client once, a younger girl who was really into one boy at her high school. She’d told Becca, “He makes my breath stop whenever he looks at me. Is that normal?”
Becca had asked her to define what normal was in her world. That had never happened to Becca personally, so she hadn’t felt like it would be normal for her.
That was before Linx.
Unless this is just what he does. Pulls women into his trap and tosses them aside when he’s done.
No, her internal monologue could go ahead and hush. That’s not who he was. With him, she had the breath-stopping thing. Being with him was the end of a long, long aimless walk she didn’t really believe had an ending point. Being without him was like jumping back on that aimless trail.
This epiphany scared the snot out of her and made her anxiety bubble grow.
She glanced to her phone for what felt like the billionth time that day. She needed to text him. Needed to hear his voice. Wanted to feel his touch.
Or maybe this was the lack of sleep talking. She should call a colleague. Ask for a consult so she could get something to help her rest.
Except, she didn’t want to sleep. Sleep was worse than being awake. When she slept, a little niggle in the back of her mind had Bax’s voice telling her what a player Linx was. How he went through women like they were Cherry Coke, and how he tended to string them along before dumping them on their face in the middle of the highway while his tour bus chugged merrily along.
That last part was totally her interpretation of what Bax had said. It didn’t matter because Linx was just a rock star she crushed on. Now, though, it mattered. He was a rock star she was falling arse over tit for.
Yes, it mattered a lot.
