Page 119 of Fire
“Dude!” Zander smacks the back of my head, and I jolt upright in my seat.
“What the fuck?” I remove my earbuds and glare up at him.
“I said your name like five times. How loud do you keep the volume on those things? You know you can lose your hearing that way?”
“Okay, Grandpa,” I mutter. He stares at me, and I realize how rude that sounded. I’ve been rotting in this leather chair in the corner of the swanky hospitality suite for the last thirty minutes. I need to get the hell up and go get ready, but I just can’t seem to move. “Sorry, Z.” I blow out a breath. “I’m in a shit mood.”
“I can tell. Want to talk about it?” He plops down into the seat next to me, and I notice he’s already dressed. Black jeans and an old band tee peek out of a hoodie. His hair is styled. It’s not that different from his normal look. Just a bit more polished.
My brother asked me to keep our conversation between us, and I won’t violate that trust, but it doesn’t mean I can’t talk about everything else. “Saul and my dad want an answer regarding the offers I got.”
“Seether still at the top of the list?” He regards me carefully. The guys know about me signing with my dad and the offers that came with it. There’s nothing about this I’m trying to hide.
Well, nothing aside from the trip to the clinic.
When Asher and Zander looked through the list of band names, I swear I saw a hint of sadness or maybe even regret in Asher’s expression, but they both agreed. Seether was the bestoption. Even if it did mean I’d have to jump into another seven months of touring.
I nod. “You know I’d be crazy to turn them down.”
“So why the hesitancy?”
“I think I’m in love with Zara,” I suddenly blurt out. I feel my eyes go comically wide. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that.”
My best friend breaks into a laugh so loud that the catering staff start to stare. “Are you sure?”
“No, I meant it. I just didn’t mean…” I let out a sigh. “I haven’t told her yet.”
“Okay, so this isn’t a denial-type thing?”
“No, it’s ahow do I make this workthing,” I tell him, my head falling back against the leather cushion. A few crew members wander in and grab a snack or a drink. Zander waits for them to leave before he continues.
“What do you mean? Do you think she won’t support your choice? Have you not talked about it?”
“No,” I groan, feeling beyond stupid. “There have been a dozen or more times I’ve wanted to bring it up, but I always stop myself because what if that’s the conversation that ruins it? What if I put too much pressure on her, and she decides it’s too soon after her divorce and ends things? I can’t—” My voice catches in my throat. “I can barely stand the idea of being away from her for a few months, touring with a new band. If she walked away…”
Zander scrubs a hand down his face. “Look,” he says, angling his body toward me. “You know I did a lot of stupid shit in those first few weeks after I met Elena. I blamed a lot of it on the NDA I had to sign with the band, but we both know that was total bullshit. If I had wanted to be honest with her, I could have found a way around it or simply spoken to Ridge. But I didn’t. I used it as an excuse to hide my feelings, and in the end, it almost cost me everything.”
“It was kind of worth seeing you grovel all over the internet, though.”
“It’s called a grand gesture, asshat. And at least my viral video isn’t of my abs.”
I laugh. “It’s not my fault you let yourself go.”
“Oh fuck off.” He laughs, then sobers and says, “You need to talk to her.”
“I know. It’s just things have been off with us this week. It’s like…” I try to think of a way to explain it. “She seems stressed, but when I ask her if everything is okay, she perks up like nothing is wrong.”
He tilts his head. “Did you ever stop to think she’s worrying over the same shit you are?”
“I—” Shit. “No?”
“Seriously, dude. Talk to her.”
I check my watch and grimace. “Right, yeah. I should head out then if I want to get to the clinic before the show.”
I move to get up, and Zander does the same. “If it eases your mind, Zara asked me the other day if it was all worth it, the fame and loss of privacy.”
“What? When?”
