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I flick him off. “That’s what I told her.”
“You both say this, but I haven’t heard one flaw yet,” she points out.
Ian opens his mouth, but I wave him off. “Let me ease into this before you start revealing all my deep, dark secrets.” I consider my list of extensive shortcomings and opt to go with the one that Ian would probably start with. “I’m a perfectionist.”
“He has a temper, too,” Ian adds.
“And he’s more stubborn than a mule.” Rudd ambles down the hall to peer over Davis’s shoulder.
Terrific. They’re making me out to be an inflexible asshole who always has to get his way.
“You got any complaints?” I ask Davis.
“Nah, it’s all good. Besides, none of those things has killed your family like Landry’s cooking almost did. We were one meal away from being a Discovery ‘Tragedy in the Kitchen’ special.”
Landry rips a sheet of paper off the notepad lying on the table and chucks it at Davis’s head. It doesn’t go very far.
“Oh, and did I mention Landry’s a terrible shot? Never choose her in a game of pick-up basketball.”
“Noted,” I say and grin at Landry.
She smiles back and lust surges through me so powerfully that my knees nearly buckle. I force myself to turn away. In a curt voice, I say, “Holler when you’re done. I’m going to take another look at the set list.”
I leave knowing that there are four sets of bewildered eyes following me into the back. Scratch that. Three sets. Ian probably knows exactly why I’m pissed off. And it’s not at anyone but myself.
Chapter Eleven
Landry
Tour Stop: Augusta
The bar in Augusta isn’t a bar. It’s a squat, drab gray building with a large parking lot and a fifties-style neon sign that says “Dance’s Hall” with the word “Vacancy” in neon orange underneath.
“Are we even at the right place?” I ask. We’re all in the front, watching as the driver makes a sharp turn into the parking lot. Our bus driver is a magician because I was sure we were going to hit the stop sign, but he manages to maneuver by it with an inch to spare.
It’s Adam who answers. “There’s a bar inside.”
Davis presses his nose to the window. “How many people does it hold?”
“Three thousand at max capacity.” There’s a healthy dose of satisfaction in Adam’s voice.
And why shouldn’t there be? Three thousand people? Davis and I exchange surprised looks. Excitement simmers in his eyes. He’s never played in front of a crowd so large. He bolts from the bus almost before the wheels roll to a stop. He can’t wait to see the inside.
“You excited?” I nudge Rudd with my arm. His head has been buried in his phone for the last half hour.
“Yup,” he says. But he doesn’t sound excited. Not like Davis is.
“He’s too busy making arrangements for after the show,” Ian mocks. He taps out a cigarette and pops it into the corner of his mouth before passing the pack to Adam, who plucks one out and tucks it above his ear. The thin hoop threaded through the upper tip catches my eye. It’s the second piercing I’ve seen. Not that I’m counting.
“I’m doing PR work,” Rudd protests. His fingers fly over the screen’s keyboard. “I’m inviting the local girls to the show.”
“How’s that PR?” Ian asks skeptically.
“Simple math. Guys go where the girls go. Get a lot of girls at the show and you’ll have a lot of dicks there, too. You should be paying me for this.”
“PR work. That’s a new one,” Ian scoffs. He hops out and lights his cigarette.
Adam is next, but he pauses at the bottom step and looks back. “Coming?” he asks.
