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“We’ll let you make that case to marketing when the time comes.” Ilene gave me a condescending smile before her attention shifted to the bar area. “Oh, there’s your security guy. I had a question about how we’re handling the wristbands for the VIP area. Excuse me.”
I seriously doubted she had a real security issue. She simply wanted a pretense to go talk to Duncan. Great. Not that I thought he’d roll right from my bed to hers, but I still hated the way she strode toward him and put a proprietary hand on his arm. I wanted to yell that he was mine, but he wasn’t. And maybe he’d never been. He’d been upfront about never wanting a relationship. I was the one with pie-in-the-sky dreams who’d made the mistake of thinking I could change his mind. No romantic attachment was likely ever going to be enough to get Duncan to sacrifice even a scrap of his precious reputation.
Kate made a crowing noise, drawing me out of my haze. “Kennedy!” she called out, exiting the booth, sparing us a quick parting wave. “I’ll be back.”
Next to me, Carl groaned as Kate slipped away.
“What? You don’t like her date?” I glared at him.
“Nah. Kennedy is great. Whatever makes Kate happy.” Exhaling hard, he slumped back against the padded seat back. “More that I was just thinking we’d get a longer break in touring, but Kate and you are raring to go as always.”
“Wait.” I moved so I could study his face more closely. Given the late hour, it was tough to say whether he looked more tired than usual. “You love being on tour. No one enjoys it more.”
“Yeah, well, I’m pushing thirty, and it’s less exciting these days.” He pursed his lips. “My kid’s getting older, and it’s tough to arrange visitation around a tight tour schedule. I’m tired of fighting custody lawyers.”
“I’m sorry.” I touched his arm. We had a lot of history together, but somehow I’d missed that he was still having issues over custody with his ex-wife. And he’d never seemed that devoted of a parent, so I hadn’t questioned the impact of touring on that arrangement. Maybe I should have. “I didn’t know.”
I was supposed to be the leader of this group, and I’d missed something important with one of my oldest friends. Hell. Was this how Duncan felt when things went badly on a mission? Like it was his fault for not anticipating a potential problem or for not preventing one of his personnel from screwing up? It absolutely wasn’t my fault that Carl had been a crap spouse and parent thus far, but I also hadn’t exactly encouraged him to be better either.
“Yeah, you’ve been a bit preoccupied this tour.” Carl regarded me coolly. Not quite hostile, but not teasing either.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” A prickle raced up my neck. Hell. Duncan had been right. People, especially those close to me, were going to guess.
“Ezra. I’ve known you since we were fifteen. I’m not going to narc, but I’m not an idiot. You and—”
“Shush.” I held up a finger to silence him. And like he needed confirmation, I couldn’t keep my eyes from darting to where Ilene and Duncan were still talking near the bar. Every time she touched his shoulder or biceps, the chances of me flipping this table and marching over there went up.
Following my gaze, Carl chuckled. “Yeah, as I was saying, I’m not going to spread your business around. You’ve always done me solid. But you better straighten your shit out before the next tour.”
“I will,” I promised. I had no idea how, but Carl was right. I had to get my head back in the game, put the band first again, stop missing important details about my people, and figure out what the best move for all of us would be, not only me. Fuck. Maybe I actually was the spoiled brat Duncan had assumed when we’d first met. I’d been selfish about a lot of things.
“I’m the last person to give relationship advice, but don’t let your dick make bad decisions. Crappy tattoos. Vegas weddings. Babies. Take it from me. It’s easy to fuck up permanently.”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t my dick that was the issue here, but my heart. Sure my dick had been preprogrammed with a Duncan beacon, and that had only intensified with time spent with the guy, but if it were only fucking, it would be much easier to let him go. However, Carl’s point did dovetail with Duncan’s from earlier that a relationship was a bad decision for more than simply the two of us. I hadn’t wanted to think about those considerations, and even now, rather than making some sort of cost-benefit list, my attention wandered back to the bar where Duncan and Ilene were still chatting.
