“It’s a new era for us,” I say quietly. “You’re all married now, with women and kids on tour… it feels different.”
“It’s good, though, don’t you think?” He cocks his head curiously.
“Well, it doesn’t change a lot for me. Except, you know, not having to check the IDs of the groupies now that you boys are all wifed up.”
“You almost sound jealous.”
“Nah. It’s not easy to be in a relationship with what I do.”
“That why you’re still single?” he asks casually.
“Well, that and the fact that it’s hard to meet nice women who want to be with a guy who’s on tour for two years at a time.” There’s no reason to deny it.
“Wynter’s single. And she’s a very nice woman.”
I hesitate.
She’s definitely a nice woman, but her infatuation with Ross & The Rock-its bothers me, so I don’t know if it would work out.
“She knows who I am,” I blurt out. “Or, you know, who I used to be.”
His eyes widen. “Does it matter?”
I exaggerated when I told Wynter that no one knows who I am.
The band did a full background check before hiring me, and when they asked about it, I simply let them know I wasn’t interested in talking about or reliving the past. They took me at my word, and it never came up again.
“What’d you tell her?”
“The truth. That it was my past and I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“She’s wonderful,” he says slowly. “She deserves someone who’ll love her and take care of her emotionally. I don’t think she’s worried about you being on tour.”
“I barely know her,” I protest.
“Yeah, but you think she’s hot, right?” He grins and I can’t help but chuckle.
“She’s beautiful,” I agree.
“So, you’re interested.” It’s more a statement than a question, and I hesitate before nodding.
“Is the problem with her specifically or just where you are in life?”
“The bigger problem is that she brought up the Ross Rockit thing again when Kingston said he might not be able to sing. After I’d asked her to leave it alone.”
Tommy’s eyes snap to mine, but I immediately shake my head. “No fuckin’ way, man. I haven’t sung in years. Even if I wanted to—which I absolutely do not—my voice is in no shape to do an Onyx Knight set.”
“What about a third of a set?” he counters. “If King can sing some, and I can do one or two…” He lets the question linger unanswered, but I continue to shake my head.
“Me getting up in front of a crowd like that would reopen wounds that have barely healed,” I say firmly. “It’s not happening. Please don’t ask.”
He puts up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. It was worth a shot.”
Just then my phone buzzes, and I see a text from Kingston.
“They’re back,” I tell him. “He wants to meet up in his suite.”
Tommy gets to his feet. “Let’s go.”
