Page 88 of Rock On

I snorted. “No, dickhead. It’s just still new and I want you guys to be a little more sensitive around her for a while. Until we find our new normal.”

“Did he just say he wants us to be sensitive? Did we stop being a rock band?” Devyn asked, making a face. She was just messing around, though. She understood. They all did. They just felt the need to bust my balls.

“Fuck all of you,” I said. “Except you, Mama Z.”

She laughed.

“What did I do?” Presley demanded, protruding her lower lip a little.

“Eh. You always side with Z,” I told her, trying to keep a straight face.

“That’s not fair.” She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Look, you know I love to push the envelope, but sometimes it’s good to go in a completely different direction,” King said thoughtfully. “Frankly, I think old school is a great idea. Let’s do it. But we need to bring this to Sasha ASAP. I know for a fact all three videos are in pre-production, so if we’re going to change things up, we have to do it now.”

“If it costs us money, take it out of my share,” I said, digging into the prime rib that was currently getting cold in front of me.

“Fuck off with that,” Devyn said, shaking her head. “If there’s a cost, we share it. Just like we share every other expense. We made a decision to change course together, so we’ll split any costs together.”

I really fucking loved my band.

THIRTY-FOUR

Harley

River was beyond thrilled I was home. He hadn’t left my side since I’d walked in the door, demanding my undivided attention until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. When I finally tucked him in, after five stories and one song, it was after nine, which was late for him. He’d been excited, though, so I’d been more lenient about bedtime.

Now that he was asleep, I went in search of my sister.

Wynter had been acting odd since I got home, mostly avoiding me, and I went in search of her as soon as River was asleep.

I found her in the kitchen, rearranging the pantry.

“Whatcha doin’?” I asked casually, leaning against the island.

“What does it look like?” she muttered, pulling out a box of brownie mix. “The expiration date on this is three years ago! How do you have something so old in your pantry?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I don’t bake much.”

She tossed it in the trash and then went back in.

Since the pantry was a large room that had floor-to-ceiling shelves and was big enough to get lost in, I followed her.

“What’s going on with you?” I demanded. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s up? Like, why you quit your job.”

“Because it was soul-sucking,” she replied, plucking a bottle of maple syrup from the top shelf and examining it. “This expires next month. You need to use it!” She thrust it in my direction.

“I’ll get right on that,” I murmured, putting it back on the shelf and then planting myself in front of her. “Hey. Stop. Talk to me. I know I’ve been a needy mess the last few years, but that doesn’t negate anything you’re going through.”

“I’m fine.” She sighed and leaned against the wall. “I took a job as an office manager at a big medical practice in Century City.”

“Okay. Is it more money?”

“Yes. A lot more.”

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