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I have no idea why Shane needs me there, but so be it. I’ll meet him at Bjornson’s. I signed a contract to help him with his Venom Guitars business, and I’ll do my part.
When I get to the Guardian of Rock parking lot, Shane’s already there, leaning on a shiny new van with Venom Guitars’ logo on the side. He’s got that trying-to-look-chill pose, arms on his chest, but the smile on his face is so happy it’s annoying.
I approach the van. Shane throws the back doors open, revealing half a dozen hardshell guitar cases.
“I haven’t seen you for months. How’s it going?” He sounds cautious but pleased to see me after a long tour.
Why? He hates me as much as I hate him—for Juliette, for all the years I mocked him. I’m not proud of it, but I can’t change history. The only thing I can do is to be better, for Juliette’s sake if nothing else. “I’m great. You?”
“Good. Are you excited? This”—he waves at the guitars in the van—“is actually happening. I still can’t believe it. Finishing the tour last month, then immediately diving into house-hunting with Juliette sort of stole the thunder from this dream of mine—”
“You already have a place downtown. Are you moving out of Portland?”
Tightness born by the upcoming loss settles behind my sternum. Is this why I’ve been feeling like something’s about to come to an end this morning?
“No. We’re staying here. We just need more room. Didn’t Juliette tell you anything?”
I stretch my shoulders to chase away the growing discomfort. “No. I haven’t seen her yet at all since your return.” Juliette is one of The Label’s official photographers. She’s been gone with Shane for the majority of Project Viper’s tour. I haven’t seen her in a couple months. They’re back, but she hasn’t reached out yet.
Shane slides a guitar case out of the van and hands it to me. “Well, either way, our townhome won’t cut it anymore. I need more space for my workshop, and family, Jace. A family needs space.”
“It’s just the two of you,” I grumble, grabbing another case. “How much space do you need?” I have to admit, I’d love it if he moved out of Portland, but he’d take Juliette with him. That would be bad.
“It’s just the two of us for now, but don’t worry.” He slaps my shoulder, harder than necessary, of course. “I won’t take Juliette far. Gabe and Marina want her nearby too, not just you.”
For a minute, I just stand there, feeling empty and left behind. Juliette didn’t tell me a word about this. She could’ve texted me or called me or asked Gabe to tell me. He must know about this already. I spent all day with him yesterday, but he didn’t say a word either. Juliette begged me to not disappear from her life, but it starts looking like she’ll be the one who’ll disappear. Logic tells me it’s for the best that she’s distancing herself at last, but I hate the idea of anything coming between us. I will not let Shane end one of the few friendships that anchored me throughout my life. We don’t have to be that pair of friends who drift apart as soon as we find the other halves of our hearts. Who decided that once there’s love, friendship can no longer exist?
“What?” Shane asks.
I realize I’m glaring at him. Crap. I’ve got to do a better job at hiding my emotions. “Nothing.”
“Listen.” Shane sighs. “I know, trust me, I know how you feel about me, but are you still in? Will you still be the face of Venom Guitars? Project Viper’s tour is over. We’re on a break, and I finally have time for an overblown, over-advertised launch. I’ve sunk almost all my savings into Venom Guitars. We have inventory. A lot of it, actually. I need your face to help me sell it.”
“Of course I’m in.” There’s no way I’ll back out, admit surrender, acknowledge that I lied when I told him a year ago that we should put our history behind us. “I wouldn’t bank much on my face though. Stick with my hands.” He’s the pretty boy between the two of us. I’m the talent. On good days.
“Great.” He exhales, ignoring my joke and stunning me with his relief. “So the launch is in four months. Make sure it aligns with your schedule, okay? I know it can be difficult—”
“I’ll make it happen. Don’t worry.” My chest feels like someone grabbed a dozen thick ropes and tied me up with extreme prejudice. I’m trapped.
Shane carries on, “I’m sending invitations to everyone I can think of who has any influence—”
An older teen walks out of Guardian of Rock and freezes in his steps at the sight of us, but not for long. He runs across the parking lot toward us. “I’m… I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re Shane O’Neal from Project Viper, aren’t you?” he stutters out.
Shane smiles back. “Yes, I am. How are you doing?” Every word is smooth and practiced.
The kid draws a sharp breath. “Wow. I am such a b-big fan. You have been a huge inspiration for me to keep learning guitar when I wanted to quit. Could I take a picture with you?”
Shane chuckles. “Of course.”
The kid hands me his phone. “Would you, please? It’s the r-round icon. Button. You know.”
Sweet. I set the guitar cases down and accept the phone. “This one?” I point at the camera shutter button, not even trying to contain my sarcasm.
Shane glares at me to lay off, but I ignore him and snap a couple of shots. The kid scoops his phone out of my hands and grins in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you so much.”
I grab the guitars and go inside the shop. I can still say no to Shane. I should. What do I care about his investments or his dreams of becoming the next big guitar manufacturer? I’ve had enough of living in his shadow.
I lean one of the cases against the wall by the door and grab the handle. All I have to do is turn around and tell him I’m out. I’m done with him and…
