Page 13 of Perfect Storm

“Who pissed on your pancakes?” Arch asks with a bemused smile.

“Jordan,” Adam says, running his hands through his hair. He looks at Jenna. She’s sitting with a glass of water in her hand. “You get hold of him yet?”

“Nope. No one has. Presumably the same for Alessa.” Archer looks to me, which I confirm with a nod and sip my beer.

I don’t know who the fuck I think I’m kidding. I still feel awestruck in their presence. I know his real name is Adam, and that is how we all refer to him. But Aidan Gass is in front of me.

The man is a fucking legend. Their band has won so many awards, their albums have gone triple platinum over the years.

He’s also got solo writing awards under his belt for music he’s written for other artists. Despite his occasional surliness, he’s a decent guy. Fame hasn’t taken him over. In fact, he shies away from it as much as possible.

“What’s up with Jenna?” Archer breaks into my thoughts.

Adam’s head whips around to see his wife waving off Tia as she heads for the ladies’ room. He rushes after her without another word. Arch’s brows rise again.

“What’s that about?”

Archer keeps his eyes trained on the hallway and says nothing. I shrug, not really caring. I glance around the room again. Everyone is here, apart from Jordan and Alessa. And Ciro.

If anyone got the skinny on this thing, it’s Ciro. Him and Alessa shared an apartment when she first got to the US. They were in another band together before they auditioned for Red Alert.

I figure he knows what the deal is and I’m suspicious he isn’t here.

I excuse myself, and head back over to my brother. Jack, our drummer, is sitting with him now, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. He looks as if he’s wearing clothes he slept in.

I lean over and shout hello in his ear, scaring the shit out of him. Nash laughs when Jack almost falls out of his chair.

“Fuck face,” Jack croaks.

“What were you up to last night?” I laugh, sitting beside him.

“Party. I’ve barely had a couple hours of sleep. This asshole kept calling me and I woke up in a top model’s bed,” he gives me a wink.

I pull a face. Ciro and Jack are the only ones who haven’t settled down. I don’t think Jack will. He’s a lot like Jordan was, in his former life, before he met Alessa. He’s taking full advantage of the fame we’ve achieved.

He doesn’t do groupies, but he’s definitely enjoying the high life we’re walking in these days. Models, dancers, up-and-coming singers.

Declan’s warned him repeatedly not to fuck about with the other talent on the label. Not sure he’s listened.

“Don’t know if I got this infamous card. I haven’t been home.”

“You need it to get on the plane,” I say with a straight face.

“What?” he lifts his sunglasses up his forehead and peers at me. “You shittin’ me?”

“Yes, he’s shitting you,” Nash nudges me. “It doesn’t say that on the card.”

“Jerk,” I scowl at Nash for ruining my fun. “And we’ll soon find out.” I nod towards the doors where the attendants are coming in. They let us know we can board. “Anyone seen Ciro?”

Jack says he’ll call him, then lets out a belch that has Brooke looking over at him in disgust. He just smiles at her. Everyone gets up and I head over to Ocean.

I brush her dark hair back and look into her chocolate eyes. “You good?”

“Get me a seat at the back, an eye mask and a blanket and I’ll be fine,” she smiles.

Being an ER doctor, Ocean is more than used to sleeping in noisy environments, catching the z’s where she can when working the hours she does.

“Although I’m excited. I’ve never been on a plane before.”

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