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We fell back into rhythm, and it only took a few rough tugs before I came, taking him right over the edge with me. It was a few minutes before we caught our breaths, which was when the long day hit me.

“Ready to hit the hay, giggles?”

“Giggles? Really?”

“It’s late and I’m tired. Tell me tomorrow what was so funny. Come on, sleepy boy, let’s call it a night.”

Chapter Twelve

Wolf

Should have known Pressley was up to something when he announced that no one was going anywhere in the morning, so they’d better not come knocking on his door before he was caffeinated, because the answer would still be no. Now we were all caffeinated and standing outside of a storage facility or some sort of warehouse. The whole team, band members, roadies and bodyguards, waited to see what the hell was going on. Pressley’s shrill whistle ended conversations mid-sentence as every head turned his way.

“Alright guys, I have no clue what’s in store for us on the other side of that door,” Pressley announced. “This has been set up to be a team building exercise. To do that properly, everyone has to go in blind, even me. Easton and I thought it would be a good idea for us to challenge ourselves to see how well we all worked together under pressure. Considering the upcoming touring schedule and the unpredictability of mother nature, there will inevitably be moments when things go wrong. Here that happens in a controlled environment. Maybe. They teased us with that part, so I don’t really know.”

“Wait,” Claude hissed, “is he saying that they’re taking us into the building just to fuck with us?”

For all his blustering and swagger, Claude had a timid side. I doubted he realized how much he’d been letting it show lately, but I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

“Yeah, so be quiet so we don’t miss anything,” Tibby hissed.

“It’s supposed to be fun, gentlemen. Don’t try to turn it into a competition and get yourself hurt. I will not be pleased if that happens, which means you’ll have to deal with me being pissed off until you’re healthy again. That will not bode well for anyone, I promise you,” Pressley declared.

General murmurs followed his words, folks looking at one another, though several, band members and crew, turned to look at Claude, who’d had Harley glued to his side all morning. Claude held up his hands, taking a few steps back with a contrite look on his face.

“I’m not gonna do shit to piss Pressley off,” Claude announced.

“Wise man!” Bowie said, making several people laugh.

“I want to see you guys mix it up in there, so I expect to see band members with crew and absolutely no couples or best friends sticking together…Bowie and Tony.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony squeaked, ducking behind me.

“And that’s not going to work either,” Pressley called out.

More laughter as I looped my arm around him, tugging him against my side so I could kiss the top of his head.

“Grab Vance,” I murmured in Tony’s ear. “You guys had plenty to talk about the other night. He had a blast hanging out with us.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” he whispered before slipping away and making a beeline for Vance.

I was so busy watching him I didn’t notice Tibby by my side until we headed for the door.

“What do you think is in there?” Tibby asked.

“My guess is that we’re going to be doing a bunch of problem solving,” I replied. “Escape room shit, flickering lights, alarms going off, sound effects and other things to disorient us. As long as we stick together we’ll be okay.”

“First group of four over here!” a deep voice ordered.

We were the forth group of four, paired with Claude and Harley and sent to the right side of the building, through a door and into a space that looked like someone’s office.

“Sweet, this is escape room shit!” Tibby said. “You were right, Wolf.”

“That means we’d better look for clues and instructions,” I replied. “Everyone take a different side of the room.”

Ever see a ping-pong ball trapped in a tin can? That was Claude. On one hand, he left no stone unturned. None. He touched everything. Pressed all the buttons. Turned all the knobs. Push, pull, twist, slide, he found a message inside the thermostat, turning the dial so we could all read where to look for the next clue. Like a feral child, he explored the space while Tibby focused on the puzzles, persistently reorganizing components until the lights on the map across the room lit up.

“Look for something blue,” Harley said after studying the map.