Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” she says, moving closer. “I’m so close to being done, I just want to finish and graduate, and then things will be much easier.”
I scoff but keep it under my breath as much as possible. Nothing about this will be easier. She’ll have a job and I’ll still be heading out on a tour. It won’t be this one, but the next, and the one that follows, and she’ll always be home, while I’m touring the country.
My hand maneuvers enough so my fingers rub over her ring. I remember sliding it on her finger, thinking I’d be fine with a long engagement. Look at my parents. They’re not married, at least not in the eyes of the government, but they are to each other. The fact that they never signed a piece of paper never bothered me.
With Nola, I want the piece of paper. I want to stand up in front of our friends and family and say our vows to each other.
“I have a couple of stops in South Carolina,” I say to her as I play with her ring. “What do you think about you flying out when I’m there and we get married? Your parents are already there and mine can fly out. Then after you graduate, we’ll go back out there and have the full-blown wedding of our dreams.”
Nola smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll talk to my mom and make sure they don’t have anything booked.” She leans toward me and gives me a quick kiss. “I need to get back to studying.”
“Okay.” I stand and head to the door. “I love you.”
“Love you,” she says, glancing up quickly and then back at her computer.
TWO
The door to the studio opens. Ajay Ballard and Keane Sandoval walk in. Ajay is the drummer of my band, Sinful Distraction. Well, it’s technically the band Elle put together with the assumption I would be in it. Keane plays the piano and keyboard, depending on what the song calls for. He’s also a single dad to his kickass daughter, Chandler. She tours with us, and she reminds me a lot of the twins when they were growing up on the road.
Ajay plays the air drums as he walks by me, heading straight for his kit. He sits down, starts playing, stops to write something down, and starts banging a beat again.
Keane sits on the stool next to me.
“What gives?” I ask, motioning toward Ajay.
Keane sighs. “He had a dream about a song, played it out the entire way here, and wants to get it down before he forgets. Jamie wouldn’t let him play it in the house. James has the flu or something and has been keeping her up at night. Evelyn stayed at our place last night.”
“Geez,” I say as I look over my shoulder at Ajay, who’s focused on his task.
The door opens again, and Dana Cantu walks in. She and Keane stare at each other for longer than normal. I don’t know what’s going on with them, but there’s definitely something. At least I think there is. But what the hell do I know? I can’t even keep my girl happy at home. After she said she needed to study, I thought she’d come to bed eventually, but I woke up this morning to an empty bed and house. I had to look at the cameras to see when she left and then wondered why she didn’t wake me up.
I don’t want to continue to harp on her about the little things. She said she had a test this morning, so I’m going to assume her mind is where it should be and not worried about my hurt ego. Nola needs to focus. Finishing school is important to her, and it needs to be important to me as well.
I strum my guitar and then look at Keane, who still has his eyes on Dana. She’s our lead singer and resident rocker. She reminds me a lot of Gwen Stefani, with platinum blond hair, long fingernails, and a voice everyone recognizes.
Again, I look over my shoulder and then back at Keane. “Is there something going on with you and Dana?”
Keane’s head turns slowly, almost like one of those wind-up toys that doesn’t really work anymore. “What? No.”
I chuckle. “Are you sure? Because it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.”
Keane shakes his head. “No, nothing is going on.” He sighs. “I’m attracted to her, but she doesn’t know it, and I’m fighting it because the last thing I need or want is a band hook-up. Especially with us going on tour and Chandler being with us.”
“Hendrix will lose his shit,” I say of Hendrix Brandt, our last band member who also plays the guitar. Hendrix is his nickname because he can riff like Jimi Hendrix. To this day, I have no idea what his real name is. Whenever any of us ask, he just tells us it’s Hendrix and always has been.