Page 36 of Reverb
“Come on.” Zavier stood next to her, hands in his pockets. “Let’s go check out the breakfast options. I bet there are hideous donuts to go with Adrian’s brilliant coffee.”
A laugh bubbled up in her from underneath the weight of the preceding evening. “Okay. But we’re only buying them if they’re obnoxious colors, ’cause normal donuts aren’t worthy of Instagram.”
In the end, they found neon blue and green frosted donuts and bought a half dozen before boarding the bus. David joined them on the bus too, and he and Ray headed to the back lounge, where things were a little more private.
Dom raised an eyebrow. “He’s not keeping us out of the loop, is he?”
“No.” Zavier sat when the bus started moving and eyed the donut box Adrian was holding. “He’s doing that leader thing he does.”
“Want a donut, Zav?” Adrian’s grin was wicked.
Zavier rose and stood over Adrian and the donuts. “I still believe food should not be this color.”
“Except you’re the one who bought them.” Adrian got out his camera. “And I know you desperately want that neon green donut, so you better pose biting it.”
Zavier flipped open the box and claimed one of the donuts. “Fine.” His voice was rich with laughter. Photos were snapped, of the donuts, of Dom and Zavier chowing down. They were pretty good in the end, despite the scary color of the frosting. They even left two—for Ray and David.
Of course, Adrian’s photos were artful and cute and featured them and Twisted Wishes mugs of Adrian’s coffee. Mish approved the one of her laughing, donut in hand. She wantedthatone posted.
“People are worried about me. Our fans.” The image made her look happy and carefree—more so than she felt. But she could get there again. The weight of hurt, fear, and loss was lifting.
From the chatter on the internet and on the band’s site, lots of folks were upset on her behalf.
“Yeah, the fans are,” Adrian said. “They adore you. It’s not all bad out there, though.”
“I know. One rotten apple shouldn’t reflect on the bunch.” An apple with minions, though.
Zavier settled back into his seat. “The press about the show has been phenomenal. The critics very much enjoyed your duet with Ray.”
“It was fucking fantastic,” Dom said.
“Really was.” Adrian flipped open his tablet. “Let me show you the fans’ reactions.”
She scooted closer to him, and he flipped through Twitter, Snapchat, and Instagram. Each one warmed her heart. The OMGs and the wows and the comments on how good her voice sounded. People wanted more. They thought she and Ray were awesome.
The stabbing edge of pain from the night before was gone, and she gave Adrian’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks, hon.”
“Anything for family,” he said, his voice gentle. “I see the good, too, and there’s a lot more of that.”
She believed him. But somehow, the bad always weighed more than the good. “Glad you joined us.” She punched him in the arm with no force.
“Me, too,” Dom said.
Zavier’s grin was legendary, but he didn’t say anything.
Just then, Ray came up from the back of the bus, and paused by Adrian and the donut box. “I think I’ve waylaid David’s fears and self-incrimination, and he threw some ideas around about tonight’s concert which we wanna run by all of you.” He picked up the last green donut. “But he’d like to talk to Mish in private, if that’s okay?”
Her stomach tumbled from nervousness, but she wasn’t sure if it was from thrill or apprehension. “Yeah. I’ll head back.” She poured another cup of coffee for her, one for David, and grabbed the box with the remaining donut. “I’ll even bear gifts.”
Ray planted a kiss on her cheek. “Go get him.”
There was more to Ray’s statement than she really wanted to admit.
Despite the rocking of the bus, David paced the floor of the small lounge, his heart in his throat. The engine covered most of the noise from the front of the bus, but murmurs of speech still filtered to him, and Mish’s voice chattered across his nerves. Was she mad? Upset? How would this go? He needed to apologize, even though Ray had been vehement that David needed to do no such thing.
The flutter of the curtain between the sections heralded the arrival of Mish, who was carrying a box in one hand and two mugs of coffee in the other. He closed the distance between them and retrieved one of the mugs. “This for me?”
“Some of Adrian’s magic bean juice.”
