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“Just worried. His grandmother is in surgery,” I defend. I’m not ready to spill my emotional baggage to my friends, knowing they will dish out to me the same crap I gave them when they got together with their men. So I deflect. “I hope you get to meet her, she’s feisty.”
Danny doesn’t fall for it. “Just call him, man.”
“Your leg is driving me fucking crazy,” Bobby grates out, his eyes on the keyboard he’s messing with. Then he suddenly sets the keyboard aside, heads for the front door and opens it. “I need something sweet.”
I glance at his back as he closes the door a little harder than normal.
“He’s still pissed at me,” I say.
“Give him time,” Danny adds, then continues. “Now, let’s focus on which songs, please.”
“I’ll be back.” I don’t wait for their response, and rush out of the condo, my cell phone in my hand, tapping the call button. I don’t see Bobby in the hallway; I can only hope he cools off by the time we get on the plane tomorrow.
Lyric answers immediately. “Hey.”
“I wasn’t sure if should call, but I needed to hear your voice,” I confess sheepishly.
“Me too. I wish you were here,” he admits with a tired sigh.
“Is your grandmother in surgery yet?”
“Yes. They wheeled her in about twenty minutes ago… Rafe?”
I love the way he says my name. Throaty, with a hint of need behind each letter. “What, babe?”
“Did you cancel the Club FF event?”
I pause for a moment, not liking the tone shift in his voice, but I have to be truthful. “No.”
“You’re going ahead with show?” Surprise comes through the phone. “Why?”
“Because we don’t want your asshole father putting this over our heads—or yours. It’s our reputation on the line. And besides, we already did some legwork on getting people to come. Dante checked with the venue owner—did you know Dante speaks a little Korean?—who knew.”
“Rafe,” he huffs in frustration, pulling me from my squirrelling.
“Right—sorry. Anyway, Dante told us that the tickets for our show are going fast. It’s already more than half sold out. All we need to do is keep spreading the word.”
“I’m glad to hear it. However, I feel like my father has something up his sleeve. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll let you know once I figure it out.”
“I promise you, no matter what your father has planned for us, this show will be epic. The band is picking out which songs to play. We just need more asses in the seats,” I say, while trying to remain calm and keep the trepidation out of my voice. Am I worried? Hell yeah. But I’m not going to tell Lyric that. He has too much laying on his shoulders as it is.
“Alright. I trust you.” His soft response has me sucking in a silent breath.
Those three words has my insides all fluttery, and now those voracious butterflies are taking flight instead of gnawing at my guts. “I trust you, too.”
“Alright. I trust you.” The soft retort has me sucking in a silent breath.
Those three words have my insides a fluttery. Those voracious butterfly are taking flight instead of gnawing at my guts. “I trust you too.”
There is a second of silence between us before he says, “My sister is waiting for me. But I’ll call you later—and don’t stay up too late.” His usual standoffish tone is back, which only makes me smile.
“I’ll try not to, K-pop.”
Lyric hisses into the phone and then hangs up. I chuckle as I head back inside the condo, feeling lighter than the oxygen I’m breathing in.
By the time we finalized the set list for the concert, Bobby still hadn’t come back. And now it’s time for bed. I try to sleep, but I can’t, not with my best friend angry with me—to the point where he’s ignoring me—and for what? Following my heart? Well, it started off with my dick, but then my feelings shifted into overdrive.
I head back out to the living room when I hear the front door open. The moment he steps into the condo, I can smell the alcohol. “Bobby.”
