I nod, scrunching up my nose because I know what he means and what the reason is. “Our lead singer went through a lot of changes when we were recording those. Huge, life-changing shit, so it’s not surprising that it translated into our songs.”
“Makes sense. Well, judging from the music, I’m guessing those changes were for the better.” He grins, his gaze traveling past me and landing on Ava who’s busy chatting up some chickwearing a suit, while Blaise is right beside her, unable to take his eyes off of her for even a second.
“You have no idea.” Falling for Ava saved his life. Or maybe it was her falling for him that did it. Either way, I can’t deny that I would move heaven and hell to find a small slice of what they have for myself.
I’m about to panic as I realize we’ve reached an awkward lull in the conversation, when Ava suddenly spots us and comes flying over, welcoming Hudson with an overzealous hug I wish I’d had the balls to give him myself.
No surprise, Blaise is right behind her. “Dude, if I didn’t know you were gay, I might be a little worried seeing my girl throwing herself at you like that.”
Hudson laughs, holding out his hand. “Kieran Hudson, and I didn’t realize I was wearing my sexual orientation ID badge tonight.”
Blaise takes it, grinning. “Blaise Nolan, and there’s no badge. Just a girlfriend with a big mouth and some sick need to play matchmaker every chance she gets.”
Fucking A. Between the two of them it’s enough to make me want to plan another trip down by the river with a single bullet.
“Holy shit, dude. Seriously? Has neither one of you assholes managed to retain any sense of what is considered normal and acceptable behavior in a social setting?”
Ava, one arm still around Hudson, reaches the other over my neck and pulls me closer. “Sorry.” She’s apologizing to him, not me. “We’re kind of all up in each other’s business around here. You’ll get used to it.”
His brows rise. “Oh, will I?”
She shrugs. “Well, you better if you want the job I’m about to offer you.”
This is fucking awesome. He’s been informed he’s my arranged date and that he’s about to be on our payroll within a matter of seconds. From this moment forward, who the hell will ever know if he’s acting on genuine interest or because he thinks it’s part of the job description.
I yank my head out from under her arm muttering, ‘I need a drink’, as I storm off in search of the nearest bottle of liquor.
HUDSON
This party is making my head spin already and I haven’t even had a drop of alcohol yet.
“Is he okay?” I watch as Royce disappears in the small sea of people apparently joining us for dinner. So far, I’ve only met three of them, two of which I’ve known since coffee this morning.
Ava nods reassuringly. “He’ll be fine.” Then her demeanor changes completely as she goes on, “He’s totally pissed at me, but he’ll get over it.”
“I’ll go talk to him.” Blaise turns toward me, taking his attention away from Ava for only the second time since I’ve seen them, “It was nice meeting you. For what it’s worth, I really hope you take the gig. Ava says you’re crazy talented, plus, you jumped in and looked out for her this morning, so that makes you the type of dude I want to have around.”
“Thanks.” What else do you say to something like that? Then Blaise is gone too, leaving me alone with Ava, whichmakes me slightly nervous, and not in the good way that Royce made me feel. Isn’t that I don’t like her, I’m just not used to being around someone who never holds back. It’s like this chick doesn’t have a filter. At all. I guess she doesn’t need one considering who she is and what she does, but shit, it keeps you on edge never knowing what’s going to come out of her mouth next.
“You look scared.” And she’s off.
I laugh quietly. “I am.”
She hooks her arm in mine and steers us away from the noise of everyone’s conversations and over to an isolated corner. “I know we can be a bit much. Royce is right. We live in our own fucking bubble, cut off from the rest of the world. Sometimes we forget our manners. Among other things.” She sighs dramatically. “Anyway. I think you’d fit in just fine if you gave us a chance. Thing is, I’ve had this publisher breathing down my neck for ages. They want a book about the band. A real, behind the scenes look at what they’re all about. They’ve offered to send over a writer to go on tour with us and everything, but I’ve always told them no. I just didn’t see that being a good fit for the band, you know? Anyway, seeing your photos got me thinking. I’d never have some stranger follow the boys around taking notes about every little thing they did or said, and then have him put his own spin on things when it came time to write the damn book, but I would totally let a photographer follow them around with his camera and have the pictures speak for themselves.”
I can’t believe what she’s offering. Talk about a fucking dream job. “Are you saying you want me to go on tour with you guys and put together a collection to be published? As a book?”
She nods. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’d have to work out the contract with the publisher, but I sent an email out to them this morning already, and they loved the idea. And, technically they’d be the ones hiring you. Well, sort of. I guess it would be a team effort. They’d be paying you for the collection that ultimately gets published, I’d be paying you for your time, travel and the rights to every image you produce of the band. I’m not gonna lie, it’ll be a big project and you’d be looking at walking away from your regular life for several months, starting next week. If that’s not something you can do, or don’t want to do, I would understand.”
A million thoughts are running through my brain at once. Telling my mother. Finding a replacement for me at the shop. Telling the entire fucking world. Wondering what my douchebag father would say if he knew that my stupid little hobby was about to grant me the gig of a lifetime. Royce. And every other thought vanishes.
“Listen Ava, this offer, it is amazing. I mean, truly, just mind blowing, turn my world upside-fucking-down amazing.”
She cocks her brow at me skeptically. “But?”
“But I’m going to need you to clarify if I’m being hired by the band manager or the band match maker.” Isn’t until after I blurt it out that I wish I’d taken a moment to formulate my concerns more politely. But then, look at who I’m talking to.
Her otherwise chill expression morphs into something serious and almost hurt. “For starters, that wouldn’t make me a match maker so much as it would make me a pimp, and some band managers may double as pimps and drug dealers, and God knows what else, but I don’t. Those boys are my family. I love them. I love Royce and yeah, maybe I love him in anoverbearing, no boundaries sort of way, but I would never do anything to hurt him. So, if you think for one second that I would put you on my payroll to somehow encourage you to show him some interest or whatever, you can walk away right now, because he deserves so much fucking better than that.”