“She doesn’t get you, man. She doesn’t understand this life. She can barely stand your friends.”
I glare at the man I once considered a brother. “Then maybe I have the wrong friends.”
He wipes more blood off his mouth and points to her. “You’re really picking her over me?”
I glance at Rory, who’s watching all this shit with wide eyes as she holds my daughter. “Yeah, I’m really picking her.” I hope she sees the regret in my eyes. For dragging her on this tour. For recording that song with Marlowe. For pretending to flirt with my ex. For all the dumb shit she’s had to deal with from my so-called friends.
I shake my hand, realizing it’s gonna hurt like a bitch when I play the guitar tonight.
Frank glares at us. “Load up on the damn bus. I’m calling a band meeting in ten.”
I already know what he’s gonna say. That the show must go on.
But as I stare at my sweet little librarian, I wonder if I can handle moving on without her.
49
RORY
Cooper’sugly words ring in my head as I board the bus. He called me a mouse, just like my landlady’s son.
And then Jace punched him. He hit his best friend. To defend me.
No one’s ever defended me before.
A giant knot forms in my throat, and I blink back the stinging in my eyes. Next to Layla, the most important thing to Jace is this band, and he just hit his drummer and best friend because he talked trash about me.
It’s not like Cooper’s wrong. I am quiet around him. I don’t understand this industry, and I don’t really care for Jace’s friends.
Still, Jace told all of the people closest to him that he was picking me over them.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I stand in the kitchen, face the window, and burrow my face against Layla, who pats my hair. Loving someone shouldn’t hurt this much.I try to breathe deeply to get control of myself, because I don’t want to cry during Frank’s meeting, but my head’s a mess.
I haven’t forgiven Jace for what happened with Marlowe, but I can accept he’s felt a lot of pressure to do what’s best for the band. I’m pissed on his behalf that his label didn’t give him time to consider the contract for “Red Light.” That he didn’t get a chance to run it by an attorney.
“Miss, are you doing okay?” Edmond gives me a kind smile, and I nod.
“Nice to have you back.” I sniffle and glance around for my tote bag. Where’d I put it? “I brought you and Ozzie some pralines. Could you hold Layla for a minute? I think I dropped my bag outside.”
“That pretty green one? You left it on the curb. I brought it in for you.” He points to the couch.
“Thank you. That has my whole life in it.”
I grab it and sit in the kitchen while I wait for the guys to board. I study the bus, which looks remarkably similar to the other one. Except at the back of the long hallway, there’s no master bedroom, just more bunks.
Frank sits on the couch across from me. I feel like I should apologize to him. Like I bear some responsibility for what happened outside, but I stop myself. The old Rory would’ve done that. But Jace and Cooper are grown men.
While Cooper is a great drummer, I don’t think he appreciates that there would be no band without Jace, who writes all of their music. Cooper was out of line. And if he can’t see that I’ve busted my ass this summer, watching Layla and doing the band’s social media, I can’t help him. But more than anything, he shouldn’t be shocked Jace doesn’t want him having drunken orgies a stone’s throw away from his daughter.
As Frank flips through some paperwork, he glances at me. “Rory, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to have a word with the guys.” I stare at him, not understanding. “Alone.”
Oh. “Sure. Sorry.” As if I needed another reminder that I’m not part of this band. “I guess Layla and I will go grab a bunk.”
“Thanks, kid.”
I pass the first set of bunks, past a bathroom, to the very back of the bus where there are four more bunks, two on each side, and a small nook beyond that. It has a little table and two small couches. Guess this is my home for a while.
Standing in the back of the bus, all by myself, with only the baby, makes goosebumps erupt down my arms. It’s darker back here than in the other bus, and I have sudden visions of Ghostface fromScream, lurking in one of those bunks with a giant knife.
