Page 19 of I Just Want to be Yours

Dave has been glowering at the engine, but after letting out a frustrated, “Fuck!” he starts pacing.

Brady watches him with narrowed eyes. “You can’t fix it. You’d be better off laying it to rest,” he growls under his breath.

“Wait.” I hold up both hands while my brain catches up. “It can’t be fixed?” My eyes jump between the two guys in front of me. Dave runs both hands over his hair, smoothing it back while he looks like he’s about to self-combust from panic, and Brady just looks like he wants to break something.

Marty finally walks up, but for once, he keeps his loud mouth shut. I wonder if he’s ever seen Brady this mad or if he’s just as shocked as I am.

Brady scoffs. “No. It can’t be fixed.”

Dave shoots him a glare but says nothing.

Running a hand over my head, I take a look at the engine like I might actually understand what any of it means. “So, we need a manager and something to tour in.”

I can feel Dave’s glare pierce through me, but I keep my eyes focused on the engine.

Marty finally catches up. “A manager?”

Ignoring him, Brady keeps his attention on Dave. “What about the guy from the festival?”

“What guy?” Dave grits, looking back at the engine. I’m pretty sure he has no idea what he’s looking at either, but I don’t blame him for not wanting to face Brady right now.

The look on Brady’s face tells me that was definitely the wrong answer. “The one who wanted to manage us,” he says through gritted teeth like it’s taking everything in him not to strangle our lead singer. “The one you turned down, and the one who gave you his card and said to reach out if we ever changed our minds.”

Lost, I shake my head. “There was a guy who wanted to manage us? Why the hell didn’t I know about this?”

They all look at me with a flash of guilt, like the thought of clueing the puppy in on this decision had never occurred to them.

Dave’s shoulders drop. “Listen, I’m sorry. You were off with Margot, and we weren’t open to the idea, anyway. I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Some of us were open to the idea,” Brady mutters, but Dave ignores him.

“Call him,” I say, my voice coming out more resolute than I feel. They should have told me. I’m pissed they didn’t fucking tell me, but right now, none of it matters. What matters is we’re a band, headed for a gig, and we suddenly have no way to get there.

Dave blinks. “What?”

“Call him,” I say again. “If he can find us a new van, tell him he can have the job. Maybe he can pull some strings.”

Brady nods, finally looking more like himself. “I still have his number.”

Marty takes a sip from his energy drink, not sharing an opinion one way or another.

I half expect Dave to turn on me, but he doesn’t look nearly as angry as he did a few minutes ago. He’s just staring at me with slumped shoulders and a set jaw, like he’s torn between standing his ground and knowing it’s a lost cause. He probably wants more of an explanation, but all I give him is a slight lift of my eyebrows.

Wiping a hand over his face, he shakes his head. “All right, fine. I’ll call him.”

Brady gapes at Dave, and even Marty has stopped drinking. “You’re serious?” Brady asks. “That’s all it takes? I’ve been trying to get you to call that guy for weeks!”

Dave rubs the back of his neck, and I know he feels like anidiot right now. This is completely his fault, and usually nothing is his fault. Usually, we can blame everything on Marty.

“Yeah. Well, it looks like we don’t have a choice.” He shakes his head. “Let’s just see what he says.”

I pull out my phone, and Dave asks, “What are you doing?”

Glancing up at him, I say, “Looking for another van in case he doesn’t pull through.”

Because of all the things that could ruin this opportunity for us, I sure as hell won’t let Dave and his ego be the reason we fail.

12

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