Page 20 of Fractured Frets

“Nothing like pressure, dude.” Flint smirked. “Good luck with that.”

“I just like adding more to my list.” Not. I grabbed my beer, raised my glass toward him, and winked. “At least I married my girl and she’s not left wondering when the fuck it will happen.”

A big grin spread across his face. “Yours was unexpected, drunken craziness—mine won’t be.”

“It wasn’t a mistake. But fair point.” I guzzled my beer—anything to distract myself from the unease that still resided in my stomach. I wasn’t sure it’d disappear until Maddy and I could spend more time together.

Until then . . . the guys and I had our tour to continue.

A nervous young waitress in a well-cut navy suit with the hotel logo embroidered on the breast pocket stepped over to us. “Kon’nichiwa. Good evening, everyone.” She bowed to our group, then turned to Flint. “Glover-san? Your table is ready.”

“Thank you.” Flint let out a huge breath as if grateful for the interruption and diversion from the topic of marriage.

So was I.

I slid off the bar stool and followed my friends to a private dining area at the rear of the restaurant. As I took a seat at the round table between Flint and Lewis, Blake, Tia, April, and Harper walked in. Charlotte snuggled sleepily against Harper’s shoulder.

As Harper passed behind me, she brushed her hip against the back of my chair. Chills ran down my spine. I wasn’t looking forward to a conversation with her, but I had to ensure she understood our past would never be repeated. I was with Maddy. Married. She had to respect that.

Problem was, I knew Harper. She didn’t like the word no. My dick used to have a thing for her tongue ring. She’d had a thing for me. I’d never suggested we were anything more than bed buddies. We had nothing in common—no buzz, no chemistry. We’d just had sex. But when I’d called it quits, it didn’t end well. It had turned ugly. She’d gotten upset. She’d broken a lot of shit and left.

Why did girls have to get so obsessive? But who was I to talk? Maddy had become my everything. I wasn’t going to let her go. The difference was Maddy and I loved each other and needed the planets to align so we could be together. Once this tour was over, shit would settle down and I could be with her wherever she was filming.

Blake took the chair opposite me. He moved his plate and chopsticks to one side and grabbed the menu. “Slip? Are we celebrating or drowning our sorrows?”

“Celebrating.” I showed him my ring. “Still married.” I loved showing my gold wedding band to everyone, especially the overzealous paparazzi and female fans that had swarmed me and Beckett at the airport, asking if the rumors and photos were true. It had become my shield that said back the fuck off, I’m taken.

“Excellent.” Blake grabbed his glasses out of his jacket pocket and put them on so he could read the menu. But then he glanced up, taking everyone in. “We can have a few drinks, but no one is to go overboard. You’ve got big shows ahead.” Blake turned to the waitress who’d finished pouring everyone a little cup of hot tea and was waiting patiently for our order. “We’ll start with two bottles of Verve, please.”

Okay...this could get messy. And I was okay with that. I was fucking married. To a girl I loved. And I planned to stay that way.

“Yes, Poulton-san.” She bowed her head. “I won’t be long with your drinks.”

“Wait.” From beside Lewis, Cole held up a finger. “And an apple juice for Charlotte, please.”

“Yes. Okay.” The waitress bowed again and scurried off, giving Cole a flustered, star-struck smile as she left. But Cole only had eyes for his daughter.

As we waited for our drinks, we fell into banter and chatting. I did my best to politely ignore Harper sitting next to Blake as she entertained Charlotte, reading her a storybook or coloring a picture with the crayons Charlotte had grabbed out of her backpack.

“How was promo today?” I asked, angling my head toward Flint. We didn’t do many big press-oriented appearances during the tour. Most of those gigs were done during promotional tours for single releases, album launches, and tour announcements. Our current schedule of shows and travel was hectic enough without adding in additional obligations. Select media representatives came to the concerts. But our Japanese tour sponsors had insisted on a press junket. I wasn’t sorry I’d missed it.

“Totally crazy.” His eyes lit up as he grabbed his tea and took a sip. “We’d just finished the briefing with the host and were being led toward the conference room when this massive group of photographers caught sight of us. They bolted over to us and were pushing and shoving and clambering around to get pictures of me and the guys. Luckily, we were surrounded by security, and they got us to the room safely. It was fucking insane—scary, but also very cool. Sorry you weren’t there.”

“I’m not.” My blood pressure skipped up a rung just listening to Flint’s recollection of the event. I loved one-on-one interviews, TV and radio appearances, and photoshoots. I wasn’t shy in front of the camera. But mass media junkets, where questions flew hard and fast and often turned prying and personal, intimidated me. I could never think quick enough or respond fast enough, and was often left babbling like a fool.

“During the press conference, the reporters kept asking about you,” Cole added. “And the tour sponsors weren’t happy you were a no-show.”

I winced. Rail Energy Drinks were one of our big sponsors, as were Fender, Marshall, and Pearl. The guys and I rarely drank energy drinks anymore. They gave us stomach cramps. But the company had funded our tour buses, covered them in advertising, so it was best to keep them happy, along with everyone else. “So, what did you tell them?”

From beside Flint, April grabbed her napkin, unfolded it and placed it on her lap. “That you were taking a personal day and would be here for the shows.” April didn’t skip a beat in her cool reply. “The statement we released online about you and Maddy provided enough information. The guys did an amazing job deflecting any questions from reporters digging for more details.”

“Thanks, guys.” I tapped my palm against my heart. “I really appreciate it.”

The champagne arrived and Blake ordered food for us to share. After the waiter poured us glasses of Verve, Flint raised his flute toward me.

“Okay. I should be doing this at your reception, with our partners, friends, and family gathered—not here in some hotel without your wife.”

I’d love Maddy to be there, but I didn’t need a reception.

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