Page 34 of For Eva

Her forehead creased. “Yeah, I, uh…I love you, too. But if…”

I forced a grin so wide my face hurt, hoping that would end the conversation so she would leave and I could fucking think.

“Okay. I just…never mind. I’ll let you know once I talk to Keith and get everything figured out.” She smiled, then pulled her keys from her bag and squeezed her shoulders together like a little kid who’d just found out she was going to Disney World. When she reached for the doorknob, her hand rested there for a moment, and she turned back to me.

Shit.

My muscles tensed, and I began to feel like the cornered rat I’d been the night before when Eric came up with his stupidfucking idea. Like a trapped animal that might do something crazy to escape. Like gnaw its own foot off. Or ruin a really good thing for the second fucking time.

“Oh, just FYI,” Eva said. “All those damn mints you knocked over last night are in the kitchen. I tried to get you to leave them, but you kept crawling around, picking them up, saying you were probably gonna be hungry later.”

She chuckled and winked, and I worked a laugh into the long sigh of relief that streamed from my lips. I fell back against the mattress as she closed the door, squeezing my eyes shut and tracing circles on my temples.

Fuck me.

I didn’t want her on that fucking tour.

Things had been so good since she’d moved to LA. She had her job, I had my music, we had our own friends, our own separate worlds outside of the one we had together. And the idea that she would be so fucking tangled up inthis part ofmine…It was exactly what I’d worried about before. The reason I’d called her that night and told her it was over.

It wasn’t like I didn’t want her around. Of course I did. We’d even talked about getting a place together once the money started rolling in. But she was supposed to be back at home decorating the damn thing, not glued to my ass while I was on the road.

I laid there for thirty minutes, staring at the ceiling and lighting one cigarette off another before flinging myself out of bed, throwing on whatever clothes I could find on the floor, and marching down the hall to Eric’s room. I pushed through the door, not bothering to knock, and found him propped up in bed—jeans, no shirt, smoking and flipping through a copy ofRolling Stone. Beside him was a tangle of blond hair and tan limbs and lace-covered asses.

“What’s up, man?” he said, barely taking his eyes off the magazine resting on his lap.

I glared at him, sure my face was as red as Chick Number One’s underwear. I didn’t know why the girls made me extra pissed. Maybe because Eric had so obviously proceeded to go about his night without a care in the world, while I was crawling around on the floor of a Mexican restaurant and throwing up sour mix in my mouth. All because I needed to forget what he’d done until I could make him fix it.

“I don’t know,man. Just trying to figure out why you think you can make decisions for this band without consulting me first.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone annoyingly casual as he stubbed out his cigarette.

I pushed my hands through my hair, a frustrated laugh forcing its way out of my lungs. “Are you fucking serious? Eva coming on tour? The wholeassistantbullshit?”

“Dude, keep it down.” He finally looked up at me as he bobbed his head at the bodies next to him.

“You don’t even know their fucking names, so don’t act like you give a shit if I wake them up.”

“Look how fucking cute they are, though.” He grinned as one of the girls sighed and stretched her arm, letting it fall lazily over the other. “Like, they shoulda been gonehoursago, but I can’t do it. I think I’m gettin’ soft or somethin’.”

I clenched my jaw so tight I thought I might stroke out. “If you don’t get your ass up right now so we can discuss what the fuck you did, I will find a way to kick you out of this band, I swear to fucking God.”

He snickered. “Yeah, okay, dude. Like we don’t have a contract with all our names on it.”

“Get the fuck up, Eric,” I demanded, my heart pounding in concert with my head. “Or Iwillkill you and cross your name off that fucking thing myself.”

A blond head popped up and squinted at me before groaning and dropping back onto the pillow.

“Jesus Christ, Danny,” he mumbled, swinging his legs off the bed. He nudged the chick beside him, then stood and grabbed his smokes from the nightstand. “Hey, super fun night and all, but you girls gotta go. So, just, like, get dressed, and don’t take any of my shit.”

He rolled his eyes as he pushed past me, and I slammed the door behind us.

Eric flopped on the couch in the living room, swept his hair out of his face, and lit another cigarette. “Okay, so why the fuck are you freaking out about this? I mean, you get to have your woman on the road with us. The one who almost got away or whatever.” He pursed his lips as if that sentiment was too sappy for him to stomach. “You should be thanking me, man, not riding my ass.”

I paced the floor in front of him, trying to massage the ache out of my head. “You cannot do this shit without talking to me, Eric. This isn’tyourband.”

“And it’s notyourseither, Danny.”

“Exactly. Which means we make decisions together. And this…this is not cool.”

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