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“I don’t know yet. I think she might be,” I tell him, though I know she is. Reaching for the wrist that has the bracelet hanging from it, I lift it to see the musical note hanging from it. “Yeah, this is our girl. You got a name?” I ask, moving to the side so Mav and Atlas can see her.
I have a feeling something is about to happen and I want to have really good seats for it. The girl’s boyfriend looks murderous, while the girl appears pale. Eh, if she passes out, the boyfriend can catch her, right?
“Layla Campbell,” she whispers. “Fuck, what is happening right now?”
“Did you plan this?” Mav growls. “You and your uncle put your heads together because you’re that desperate, aren’t you, Layla?!”
Atlas’s eyes look as if they’re about to pop out, his mouth dropped. He seems less concerned with Mav’s words than with the specter in front of him.
Oh shit, maybe I need some popcorn. We found ourselves an ex from the past. What are the chances?
Four
LAYLA
I’m in Hell, which just so happens to exist in Vermont. Swallowing hard, I blink against the tears that threaten to well in my eyes. How are they here?
I’m going to have so many words with Jordan. Damn old man. I love him, but fuck.
Pulling on the anger I’ve felt for five fucking years, I channel that instead of my pain. “You think a lot of yourself for washed up musicians no one else will touch,” I rasp harshly, standing tall. “The only reason my uncle would have to send me here is if there was no other choice for you. I happened to have a need for a band, you’re in need of a lead singer. If we can’t make this work, I’m sure I can get on a plane to tell him that.”
I don’t recognize the cold, smooth words coming from my lips, but I embrace it nonetheless.
“Wow, you were always so sweet. Apparently the spoiled ice queen is making an appearance,” Atlas snorts. I’m anything butwhat he’s saying. I feel things too hard, I’m too in tune with the emotions of others.
He was always the sweet one. I remember my sister telling me all sorts of stories, and he used to be the most affectionate when we first started touring together. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Show biz,” I lie, looking into his gray-green eyes. They used to say so much before this, but they’re cruel and cold now.
“Why do you need a band, Chickie?” asks the man who insisted on having my name. “This seems to go both ways. Maybe you’re a problem child? Emphasis on the child.”
His otherworldly blue eyes move down my body, his beautiful lips curled as if I smell bad. Everyone is always so damn worried about how old I am. How is twenty-six a child?
“My bandmates have issues with overindulgence when it comes to their drug use, with one in particular having a problem with boundaries,” I explain vaguely.
Mav has been scrolling his phone and ignoring me, but slowly lowers it until it hits his thigh. There’s a lot that I’m not telling them, like how Zeke would make me feel uncomfortable by cornering me after a performance. He had a way of making sure everyone else was busy elsewhere when he did it too.
There was nothing innocent about it. He even moved like a predator.
“I don’t think I ever got a name, but you’re the boyfriend, no? I vaguely remember you from the wedding,” Mav murmurs. “Where the hell were you when she was having this ‘boundary’ issue?”
“First of all, I’m Tyler, and I am the boyfriend. As to your question, I was having sex with her when Zeke decided to climb onto the bus uninvited. He had a key that no one knew about, and kept taking it upon himself to use it in the dead of night. He wasn’t expecting me to be visiting after one of theirperformances. I then kicked his ass,” Tyler grunts, unimpressed by Mav’s grumbling.
Tyler can be just as big of an asshole as these guys, if not more. He’s just never one to me. Apparently I’m attracted to men who growl. Go figure.
“I sent him packing after ensuring his balls don’t descend for a bit.” I shrug. Mav and Atlas cross their arms as they listen, as if surprised that I had the nerve to kick someone. They don’t need to know that I only had a sheet wrapped around me when I did it.
“I can take care of myself, but I don’t like to leave myself in vulnerable positions if I can help it. I have self-preservation, after all. It worked out that Tyler decided to start joining the tour more to stay with me. Now, if we’re done with the dick measuring contest, are we going to give this a chance or not?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Mav says, pocketing his phone. “I have more questions, and I need a drink. Are you even old enough to legally drink yet?”
Rolling my eyes, I turn to catch the bartender’s eye. Smiling because he didn’t do anything to me and I’m genuinely a nice person, I wait for him to make his way over to me.
“How can I help you tonight, beautiful?” he asks, waiting for my order. I was carded at the door, so he doesn’t bother doing it again.
“Can I get a Jack and coke please?” I ask sweetly. Glancing over my shoulder at Tyler, I love how he stands to cover my back with his body, his corded arms reaching around me, to lean on the bar. He’s not jealous that I smiled at the bartender, but is laying claim to me.
His glasses make him look adorable, his caramel eyes doing weird things to my insides. Tyler merely smirks as I drink him in, leaning to kiss my neck. He looks amazing tonight, his long-sleeved burnt orange shirt pushed up to show his only tattooon his arm. His goatee tickles my skin, and makes me shiver in delight. I even manage to ignore a growl or two behind us.
