Page 28 of Lucas

19

Lucas

My world tipson its axis when I received an urgent call from Caleb’s secretary. Our audition has been changed from the twenty-eighth to the twenty-first because of a family emergency. As soon as the call ended, I grabbed my spare duffle bag, sent the band a group text, and headed out. I thought about stopping by Java Joe’s to grab one last specialty coffee, but I didn’t want to get sidetracked. Abby’s a very sexy distraction that I need to avoid at all costs. Especially since we’ll be one-hundred percent focused on our music until our audition is over. For whatever reason, I feel like the band’s future weighs heavily on my shoulders.

Since I procrastinated for way too long, it looks like the new songs I desperately wanted to finish will need to wait. All of our time and energy will be on practice, practice, practice. Oh, and not trying to kill one another since we’ll be spending so much time together.

By the time I step inside Trevor’s house, everyone’s waiting on me. Hell, I thought I walked fast but apparently not fast enough. I haven’t had time to close the door, and they’re already bombarding me with questions.

“Hey, hold up!” I shout over them. “All I know is there’s some kind of family emergency, so Caleb’s secretary told me the date was pushed up a week. Our audition is Saturday at two. Depending on how many bands audition, we either get ten or twenty minutes to perform. The judges will have their final decision by Sunday at six. I don’t know about you guys but I’m freaking the fuck out here.”

“There’s no reason to freak out, man,” Jet assures me. “We’ve been practicing and playing gigs for years now. We got this. All we need is to figure out what songs we can play to knock ‘em dead.” Jet has always been the level-headed one of the bunch. The one who talks me down from the edge time and time again. He’s been my best friend, ever since I jammed with the reclusive busker on a cold, damp sidewalk almost eight years ago. Not long after,The Sinful Sevenwas complete.

“I know, I know. I’m just frustrated that they moved up the date and I didn’t have time to finish some new songs, is all.”

Willow plops down on the chair next to me and shrugs. “The great thing about it is they won’t know if it’s our old stuff or not. Think about it. We haven’t gone live on social media in quite a while, so why don’t we practice our new songs and move on?”

Everyone chimes in with a hell yeah, except for me. Maybe I’m being a perfectionist or an asshole, but that’s on me, not them. We have two full days with a few hours in between to practice, and that’s the best we can do. The rest will be up to the judges.

After grabbing our drinks, we head downstairs to do what we do. Nothing or no one at this point will stop us from pursuing our dreams.

Several hours later, we take our first break. Jet and Trevor are jonesing for something to eat, while Willow heads for the nearest bathroom. All I need is fresh air. Without saying a word, I walk out the front door and pop a squat on the top stair. I’m hot, sweaty, and my throat is raw from giving it my all. I must admit, the cool breeze feels amazing against my heated skin. Better than being cooped up in the basement with a bunch of men oozing testosterone and one sweet-ass girl. I’d die for every single one of them, but knowing that I’m obligated to stay put for the next few days has me crawling out of my skin. Oh well, it is what it is.

Leaning back, I rest my elbows against the deck and tilt my face into the sun. So warm and relaxing. My phone’s been blowing up my pocket all damn day, but I haven’t had time to look at it once and I’m not sure I even want to. Outside of my band, there’s no one out there that I give a damn about, so there’s that. Sorry, I spoke too soon. I’d gladly respond to a text from Abby. She’s the only one who could put a smile on my face—even on my worst day.

Moaning with the memory of her taste on my tongue, I reach inside and pull out my phone. The second I swipe, I realize my big mistake. It’s not my sexy girl wishing for an encore, it’s my piece of shit brother, Landon. Well, sucks to be him. I delete every single one of his messages without reading any of them. There’s nothing he can do or say that’s important enough for me to give a fuck.

Of course, curiosity just put me in a shitty mood. Why the hell did I even bother? Now I feel pissy because it wasn’t my sexy barista. Ah fuck, I just can’t win for trying.

“There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Willow plops down next to me and although I’m livid, it’s not her fault.

“Just breathing in some fresh oxygen instead of all that carbon monoxide hiding in that basement.” I roll my shoulders, crack my neck, and stand up, holding out my hand.

When Willow puts her hand in mine, I pull her up. “Ready to do this?” I ask.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She gives me a wink and we walk into the house swinging our hands. Thanks to Willow, I’m in a much better mood.

***

Abby

I’ve been singingthe same damn song over and over again as I walk to Lucas’s. The sucky part is it’s one of his songs, and I just can’t seem to get it out of my head. You know, the catchy song that just sticks in your mind and no matter what you do it creeps back in. Well, at least it’s a great song, so there’s that.

Clinging tightly to the clean laundry at my chest, I press the button for the fourth floor. My heart is thudding so loudly I feel like I’m going to pass out. Seriously. The hell with the song. Now my mantra is drop and go, drop and go, drop and go. When he opens the door, I’ll hand him the bag and then run. Well, maybe I won’t run, but I’m not hanging around unless he asks. No, Abby! You need to play hard-to-get instead of falling to your knees every time he’s in front of you. Right? One look at him and I’m going to lose it, I just know it.

The moment the doors slide open, I feel like a deer caught in the headlights. Move, Abby. It’s now or never. With one foot in front of the other, I step outside the elevator. I can do this!

I stop in mid-stride when I notice a well-dressed man knocking on Lucas’s door. With around eight feet separating the two of us, he casually glances over at me. Wow, he’s really hot if you’re into that mafia kinda vibe. I’m nervous when his eyes rake over me from head to toe and back up again. Lingering on my boobs longer than I’m comfortable with. Awkward and scary.

“He’s not home,” the stranger with the fancy suit and the mafia vibes says nonchalantly. “Do you know where he is? I really need to talk to him and he’s not answering my texts.”

“Um, and who might you be?” The guy’s incredibly handsome, but I’m not feeling comfortable in the hall all alone with him. Obviously he knows Lucas, but I don’t know him.

“The name’s Landon Knight. Are you his new flavor of the week?” Oh, I hate the handsome and arrogant pricks. It’s a shame I don’t know where Lucas is, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell this asshole a damn thing.

“Our relationship is none of your business, Landon. And since I don’t plan on ever seeing you again, I won’t bother introducing myself. Perhaps your blatant disrespect for people is the reason he’s not answering his texts.”

A deep chuckle resonates throughout the hall as I spin on my heels and go back where I came from. My only coherent thought isPlease let me get in that elevator alone. I don’t want to be trapped with this offensive man. No such luck—I hear his expensive Italian shoes follow me down the hall.

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