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“No,” Mav says, shaking his head. “I mean, the man is incredible with a computer, but Jordan Miles really is an enigma and can’t be replaced. We’ll see how this new manager stacks up.”
Grunting in agreement, I climb the stairs to the bus, because we’re supposed to leave in a few minutes, and I don’t trust this new driver not to leave our asses. Jordan Miles is a scary fucker lately, and I’m sure he also put the fear of God into this guy.
A bus driver for a tour bus can either be a great ally or a pain in the ass. If they aren’t vetted properly, they can even be dangerous. We sleep, live, and eat on this bus, so it would be very easy to hurt us if they were a deranged fan.
Fortunately the driver simply smiles from his seat. “Let’s get you all to Cleveland in one piece then,” Benny says. I heard him introduce himself to Layla and Tyler, and his name stuck. “If you need anything or need to stop, just let me know. I expect we’ll be fine, though. It’s a pretty easy ten hour drive.”
That’s the thing about a tour: anything is an easy drive as long as it’s under a day’s drive.The Darkest Nightsput a lot of miles on their tour bus I remember. I found ways to pass the time with Mav, or I’d hop onto Lennon and the guys’ bus to chill.
In the UK, we traveled a lot too, but the weather was always so overcast that I watched a lot of movies or napped. I was never as close with Lyrica. She was moody, and I never knew if she was having a good or bad day.
Pushing away the memories, I nod at the driver, forcing a smile before walking by him. I have to admit that the bus is spacious. There are places for storage as well, and I wonder if it’s custom built the way Lenny’s was.
I don’t see Layla when we arrive in their kitchen area, but Tyler is checking the fridge and cabinets to see what Jordan filled them with.
“Hey,” I say softly to him, glancing toward the back of the bus where Layla has to be. “Where’s Layla?”
Tyler looks over at me as he closes the door to a cabinet, brow raised.
“She’s putting away her things, and asked me to give you a tour,” he says with a shrug. “Behind here are bunks, storage for your stuff, and then the bathroom behind that. There’s actually two bathrooms on this bus: one at the front and one back here. They both also have showers.”
“Why so many if she was usually the only one here?” Mav asks, surprised.
“This tour bus was remodeled for her when she went solo, and she didn’t see any reason to rip out a working bathroom,” Tyler explains. “Lay usually will write or read on longer bus rides, so I doubt you’ll see much of her.”
I should be happy about that, but it feels a lot like she’s hiding. “Hey Layla,” I call out as I walk back with my bag to store my things. Mav and Draven silently follow me, but Tyler stays where he is.
I don’t know what he’s doing, but I did see his computer bag, so maybe he’s setting up his stuff.
“Yes?” she asks, poking her head out of the bedroom. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing an off the shoulder sweater over her tank-top. “Did Tyler show you where everything is?”
“Yes, he’s a perfect host,” I say sardonically. “Isn’t this your bus though?”
“If you’re living on it too, it’s our bus.” She shrugs as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I need to call Lennon to check in, work on some lyrics. So if you hear my guitar, I’ll try to keep it down.”
“We’re musicians,” Draven snorts. “You shouldn’t have to worry about noise control around us.”
“Tyler’s working out there, and is probably going to need any of your computers or devices at some point to make sure they can’t be hacked into. I don’t want to bother him.” She smiles. “If there’s nothing else?”
Layla is so damn polite it hurts my teeth. I can’t live around someone who is like this. Sweet, careful, hiding. I shouldn’t care, but I signed a contract that will lock us in for at least the next six months, so I need to nip this in the bud now.
“Layla,” Tyler calls out, making her perk up. Her feet are already moving before she realizes it, and she brushes past us. Damn, it also makes me realize that she changed into leggings that look buttery soft and make her ass look fantastic.
Dropping my shit on the bunk, I start to put things away. I used to crash with Lennon all of the time, and these actually look a bit wider than the ones on her bus.
Draven moves closer to the curtained off partition that divides the living room from the bunks, as if it’ll keep his large body hidden as he eavesdrops. Rolling my eyes, I attempt to pretend that I’m not doing the exact same thing while Mav snoops in Layla’s bedroom.
“Why don’t you work out here?” Tyler asks her. “You know damn well your gorgeous voice won’t bother me at all.”
“The lyrics are still really rough,” Layla confesses. “I’m hoping Lenny or Turner may have some time to help me with them today. I think I may be able to get some studio time at the end of the month if I can get this polished up. It feels really raw to perform for anyone…”
I remember the last time her sister thought her songs were too raw, and instead I pushed her to work through that. Fuck, why does she remind me so much of Lennon?
Blaming my sentimental feelings for this, I reach over to open the partition.
“Music belongs to everyone, Layla. If you’re writing lyrics and need someone to jam with, you have musicians right here. Don’t bother your sister and her husbands over it,” I tell her.
Tyler rubs his nose with his middle finger while Layla looks over at me in surprise, and I realize I’ve stepped in it again. Fuck.
