Page 25 of Falling for the Guy Next Door

“Emily? Is everything all right? Should I get your friend?”

Emily shook her head and sniffled. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for signing these.” She held up the CDs, then dropped them in her purse.

“Sure thing and hey, maybe we’ll meet again down on the cove.”

Emily nodded, turned and hurried back down the corridor.

Seth tapped the side of the doorjamb. “I need help with the drums. Bosco is out front talking to a couple women. Only time I’ve seen him smiling all damn night, so I decided not to interrupt.” Seth looked around the room. “Is your cute fan gone? I saw her standing up near the stage all night. She never took her eyes off you.”

I ignored his comment. “I can help with the drums.”

Ronnie, Seth and I got the drums packed in the van just as Bosco came around the corner with a wide grin. “He must have gotten a number,” Ronnie said. “Maybe now the ride back to the rental house won’t be so miserable.”

Bosco reached us.

“Hey, guys, I think we need to talk,” I said. I figured catching Bosco in a good mood was as good a time as any.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Ronnie asked. “I’ve got a bubble bath with my name on it waiting at the house.”

“It won’t take long, Ronnie.” I looked over at Bosco. He’d crossed his arms and put on his best look of indifference to let me know nothing I said was important to him.

I forged ahead. “Look, I know you’re all really disappointed about Europe, and I’ve said this before, but I’m going to make the offer again. Just go without me. Seth can handle the vocals, and maybe you could hire that guy, Jason, the one who subbed in on keyboard after Seth broke his hand. Then you’d have a full band.”

Ronnie was shaking her head. “No can do, buddy. I brought that up to Esther, the woman setting up the tour, and she said they only wanted Moonstone with you on lead vocals. So, you see, the rest of us are just the expendable riffraff of the group. You’re the one they want.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you should ask her again,” I said.

“What part of that little speech didn’t you get, Ledger?” Bosco snarled. “It’s you they want. The rest of us are expendable. I’m beat. Let’s go.”

They got into the van. I watched them drive away and walked over to my truck. I climbed inside and pulled out my phone. No messages from Becky. I tossed my phone aside and started the truck. Tonight felt like the beginning of the end of the band, and that hurt almost as much as it relieved me.

ChapterFifteen

Layla

“Sticky. I’m always sticky,” I told Isla as I walked into the back. She had a streak of flour on her forehead. I pointed it out on my own forehead, and she reached up with a heavily floured hand and added to the original streak.

“Better?” she asked.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it.” I walked over to the sink to wash the glaze off my fingertips. “I think there’s too much glaze on your cinnamon rolls.”

Isla looked up from her mound of bread dough. Worry creased her brow. “Did one of the customers complain?”

“No, just me. I’m covered with it all the time. When I was at the café for lunch, I ordered a burger. It tasted like cinnamon roll glaze.”

Isla waved off my concern and set to work kneading the yeast dough. “People really like those cinnamon rolls.”

“Gee, how crazy is that? Soft buttery bread wrapped around cinnamon and brown sugar and dripping in sugary glaze. And people actually like that stuff?”

Isla shook her head. “All right, Miss Sarcasm, start washing those pans.”

“Yes, boss.” I smirked at her. My phone was ringing in the office. “Wonder who could be calling right now.” I gave her my little-sister, pretty-please look, and she nodded her head toward the office. I hurried in to answer it. It was Emily. I’d told her to call me with all the band night details, but it was strange that she was calling before I got off work.

“Hey, Emily, I’m just about to wash pans. Can I call you?—”

Emily’s sniffle came through the phone.

“Emi?”

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