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An hour later, Layla follows her nose, leaving her room. Her eyes are a little red, but she gives me a big smile as she sees what I made.
“Have I mentioned that I love you?” she asks with a squeal as she reaches for the plates.
“Maybe?” I tease her with a laugh. No matter what rough seas she’s in the middle of in her life, I always plan to be her safe port.
Ten
DRAVEN
Kyle, our manager, seems like a shiny asshole. You know the type. He seems to say all of the right things, but you’ll probably find him fucking a roadie later with his pants around his ankles. I never thought I’d say it, but I already miss Jordan.
“So now that you’re here,” Kyle says, standing in the small tour bus kitchen as we listen to him, “I’m going to take you to your hotel to get you settled so you can freshen up before your first radio station interview.”
“What time is that at?” Layla asks, glancing at the time. It’s currently five in the morning, and while we all slept a bit, it’s still too early for me.
“Six-thirty,” Kyle responds. “I’ve given them a list of questions to ask, so there shouldn’t be any surprises. People are very interested in hearing how you all came together. They may ask for an impromptu song, Layla.”
Double fuck. I’ve avoided people, the media, and interviews since Lyrica overdosed. People want to know how her now ex-boyfriend is handling it. Or worse, people are speculating that I ditched her while in her time of need.
The truth is, Lyrica dumped me for what feels like the millionth time right before she overdosed. It’s why I almost didn’t find her in time. I was wallowing in sadness, hurt, and a kind of relief. Her mood swings were slowly chipping away at my existence.
When she went to the rehab center, we agreed that we weren’t good for each other and it was better not to pick things back up. I hope she gets her shit together, but Lyrica and I are not meant for the long haul.
Of course, while this isn’t anyone’s business but ours, the tea is considered piping hot. People will want to know why Atlas, Mav, and I left the UK for America. The answer though isn’t as easy as everyone wants it to be, and I have no desire to rehash that on the radio.
The other issue is that Atlas, Mav, and I don’t know any of Layla’s songs, so she’ll be performing alone today. After the other night’s performance at the bar, I know she can handle it, but I feel shitty about it.
“Of course,” Layla says with a tight smile and a nod.
“I know you guys are going to need some time to practice and get used to playing together, so we’ve rented out two hotel rooms toward the back of the property. The staff doesn’t have a problem with noise control, though they’ve asked that you try not to practice before the sun comes up,” Kyle chuckles awkwardly.
As the bus pulls up to the hotel, he nods sharply. Kyle hopped onto the bus about twenty minutes ago, and hasn’t stopped yapping. Thank God I’ve had coffee already.
“Let’s get you checked in, then. Mav and Atlas have a room together, and then Draven and Layla are booked into another,” Kyle continues, ignoring Tyler.
Layla purses her lips, her spine straightening. A diva would start yelling, but I don’t think that’s the direction she’s heading in.
“What are the room arrangements as far as beds?” Layla asks coldly. It amazes me how she can turn into a blonde, blue-eyed ice queen before my eyes. “While I found out that Draven is a cuddler, Tyler and I would prefer a little more room to spread out, since we’re going to be here for a week.”
Kyle clearly expected her to lose her shit too, and raises his brow. “There’s two beds, Layla. You’ll also find that I booked you out two suites, so you’ll be able to enjoy some room. I know that buses can be a bit cramped, even though yours is gorgeous and you’re used to living out of a suitcase.”
“Perfect.” She grins, her demeanor thawing out. “Let’s unload then and get ready.”
Layla heads to the bedroom to grab her bag, Kyle’s eyes trailing after her. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. I don’t think she’ll have any issues with the interviews,” he mutters.
Tyler smirks as he grabs his computer bag and travel suitcase. “Layla cut her teeth on the media,” he chuckles. “She’s a ball buster even though she doesn’t appear to be, so she’ll be fine. Can we get some of Layla’s music to the guys so they can look it over in the meantime?”
I should have thought of that, glancing at Mav and Atlas. They nod at me in agreement. A united front means learning a couple of her songs before the interview, especially her more popular ones. I looked up some reports on Layla, and they’re already whipped up in a frenzy about why her band would walk out on her.
Despite the non-disclosure agreement, her old band is spilling just enough lies about what happened to make it interesting.
“I’ll send over music sheets, videos, and the like to your emails,” Kyle says with a nod. “It’s good that you’re here, Tucker. It’ll be nice to have someone else to help with the tour.”
This man is too stupid to live. Tyler simply stands, not giving Kyle the time of day. While Tyler is the epitome of sweetness to the baby chick, I can see that there’s a mile wide grumpy asshole that lives just under his skin.
As much as I can’t stand people, I’m intrigued at how there’s two completely different sides to him. The side that is Layla’s alone, and the one who openly shows his disdain for the world.
“I’m here for Layla, the tech side ofMusic Horde, and the job I was hired to do,” Tyler says coldly. “I was merely mentioning something you should already have offered.”
