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He’d get her back if it killed him. If that meant seducing her with his music, he’d be happy to do it.
He moved over to help Mal with his drum kit, only to get a growl for his trouble. He held his hands up. “Sorry, man.”
He usually knew better. No one touched Mal’s shit except him and his tech.
Since there was no tech tonight, Mal lugged in each piece himself. Not his full kit, but a stripped-down series of high hats that surrounded his mini kit.
It didn’t matter if it was a bongo or a dozen skins, there was no doubt that Mal was a monster behind his kit. And it was one reason they all put up with his smart mouth and less than stellar interpersonal skills. He kept them tight, and brought the thunder in a way no other drummer they’d auditioned had been able to master.
A sheet of paper skittered across the broken concrete. Ryan bent down to pick it up and Mal slapped his size-thirteen boot over it.
“What’s this?”
“None of your business.”
Ryan shoved his shoulder into Mal’s belly and moved him just enough to retrieve the paper. It was a very detailed drawing of a bastardized roll bar and drum kit hybrid.
“Hand it over, asshat.”
Ryan held up his hand. “Did you do this?”
Mal shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
A lot of thought had gone into the drawing. Ryan had done a year of school for engineering, and he wasn’t sure he’d seen drawings as detailed in his classes. “It’s cool as fuck.”
A muscle ticked in Mal’s jaw, but instead of reaching for the paper again, he crossed his arms over his massive chest.
“Did you show this to your tech?”
Mal shrugged again.
Ryan pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the drawing before handing it back over. “We’ll send it to the stage designers.”
Mal snatched the drawing and crinkled it into a ball. He pinged it off Ryan’s forehead. “I won’t be here long enough.”
When Mal strode off, Ryan bent to pick up the crumpled paper. Whenever there was even an inkling of permanence in the conversation, Mal went into asshole mode.
Well, even more asshole. It was pretty much a default personality trait for him. Personally, Ryan thought maybe it was a doth-protest-too-much kinda deal at this point.
Ryan grabbed the roll cart and shifted his steamer trunk from the depths of the under storage to the flatbed. He jumped in and found his other bag, then wound the strap of his soft-side bag over his head and across his back. He climbed out and released the lock on the wheels just as Michael stepped off the bus.
“Morning, sunshine.”
Michael stretched his arms over his head. “I swear I’m on the same sleep schedule as Hope.”
“Considering you live on FaceTime with Chloe, that’s not surprising.”
Michael’s cheeks went ruddy. “I hate that she’s home taking care of everything.”
“You know Chloe is Wonder Mom.”
“Yeah, I know. Just wish she didn’t have to be. I should be there with her.”
“And you will be in ten days.”
“Yeah.” Michael scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I’m being a pussy, I know.”
Ryan grinned. “Maybe a little.”
