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But if Molly didn’t cut the shit, they were going to end up in a fight. And she was pretty sure Michael wouldn’t pull Molly out of harm’s way this time.
“Take five. Actually, take the rest of the day.”
Molly swung around at the voice. “We’re not done.”
“Oh, you’re done.” Lila Crandall, their manager, came out of the shadows of their practice space. Who knew how long she’d been there. She had a habit of sneaking in unannounced.
When Molly opened her mouth, Lila held up a hand. “You’re past doing anything productive, Ms. McIntire. You need to know when to quit.”
“Never,” Molly said through gritted teeth.
Juliet sighed. “It’s not quitting. It’s taking a break. Look around, girl. Ryan unplugged his gear three songs ago. We’re all just going through the motions. We’ve been here since ten this morning.” Jules had no idea how Molly was even still singing. She was a damn machine.
Elle crossed her arms. “I need food.”
“Fine. We only have one of our biggest gigs of our lives next week. No big deal.”
“And we’re going to kill.” Juliet grabbed Molly’s wrist as she tried to walk past her. “Just stop.” She grasped her upper arms. “We’re going to be amazing. You just gotta relax and let us be amazing.”
She was fighting against showing the fear, but Juliet could see it in her eyes. She understood, because the drive lived inside of her as well. This band was the only thing she’d ever been good at. School had sucked overall, except her music studies. It had come to her so damn easily—too easily at first. She’d known how to play ten instruments before she left high school, for God’s sake. Now she couldn’t even remember how many she’d learned—and ultimately discarded—over the years.
It had always been music that calmed her.
And now it completed her. This band had become more than she’d ever expected. So yeah, she understood the fear, but if Molly didn’t cool her jets, someone was going to kill her.
No matter how amazing her voice was.
Molly pressed her lips together so tight they went white around the edges, then she nodded. She stalked away, grabbing her jacket before pushing out the door.
Elle Crandall, their co-lead guitarist, dropped into the battered leather couch at the back of the room. “I’m wrecked.”
West crossed to her and sat down beside her. “I say we order a pie.”
“Oh, yeah. Greasy pepperoni.” Elle closed her eyes, a smile lighting her face. “Pizza.”
Mal stood from the back of his kit and shoved his sticks into his back pocket. “I’m out. See ya tomorrow.”
“Mal, wait up.” Michael jogged after him.
Juliet pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her blood pounded and her ears started ringing when she saw the name.
Tristan.
Finally.
Damn him. She’d finally managed to put him out of her mind, and there he was again.
Tristan: Interested in pizza and an orgasm? Or maybe three orgasms? Okay, at least two, but that’s my final offer.
Holy crap.
She swallowed hard as her mouth went dry. The quick flash of memory left goosebumps down her arms and tightened her nipples.
“Juliet?”
Her gaze snapped to Lila as she pressed the face of her phone against her breast. Cripes, it wasn’t like Lila could see the screen.
Lila waved to her. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
