Page 38 of Heart of a Rebel

“Someone around here has to.” I cross my arms over my chest and look past him, where the rest of the band is making their way into the room.

The camera crew has been set up for an hour waiting on them, yet they walk in like they haven’t been keeping everyone waiting. While I’ve been listening to the crew bitch about spoiled rock stars, the band has been taking their sweet-ass time as always.

Marlene, the documentary crew’s personal assistant, jumps up when she spots the band walking in and hurries over. If she’s trying to pretend she doesn’t have stars in her eyes, she’s failing miserably. The woman can barely keep it together, especially when her eyes fall on Noah.

“You’re here, excellent.” She brushes her hands over her skirt and rolls her shoulders back, showing off her full height, which in heels is nearly six feet.

Sebastian shoots her his trademark celebrity grin. “Where do you want us?”

Just because he’s taken now, doesn’t mean he’s any less charming. He knows exactly how to work his megawatt smile to get exactly what he wants. They all do.

Marlene guides the band to the table where the camera crew is seated, and they drop into chairs across from them. I know none of them are happy about the documentary—except maybe Rome—but it’s part of their contract, so I’m glad they’re at least playing nice.

The band hasn’t committed to anything once this tour ends in four weeks, so the documentary will keep them on the map while they figure things out. It’s something the label is clearly aware of given the fact that they’re milking this for every last drop while the hooks are still in. God forbid they not have a plan if the band goes on hiatus.

I honestly didn’t think Enemy Muse would ever take a break from music. They’ve run on fumes for years, and I’ve managed to keep them somewhat whole in the process. But these past few months have been different if Eloise is any indication. And I’m not sure what the fate of the band is after the tour ends.

I should be relieved at the thought of the band slowing down because it means I can as well. While the band has worked their asses off, I’ve been right beside them, grating myself to the bone. I’ve sacrificed everything for them—my own life, a family, a relationship. And it’s been worth it to see them succeed and get everything they deserve. But I’m thirty-three now, and at some point, I’ve got to separate a portion of my life from theirs.

I need to grow the fuck up and figure out what I’m doing with myself.

Offering to manage Merry’s career was my first step to branching out professionally from the band and finding my own path. It’s allowed me some freedom while the band has trotted the globe. I’ve gone back and forth between Merry and Enemy Muse, and it’s given me some space to breathe.

But that doesn’t make it less exhausting. If anything, now I’ve got even less time than before. This isn’t the kind of life you live if you want to get married, have a family, and settle the fuck down at some point. And I still want that…

I think?

My gaze moves to Eloise because of course it does. Six fucking years doesn’t stop me from being the idiot who can’t keep his eyes off her. She might as well suck the oxygen out of the room when she enters because one glance sends my lungs into a battle for air.

Today, she’s in simple black jeans and a skintight red tank top. Her hair is already perfectly slicked into a ponytail and she’s donning a full face of makeup at seven in the morning. It makes me miss those few months when she stayed with me last year. Padding around my house in leggings and oversized T-shirts. Her long sandy brown hair in messy buns or tumbling recklessly around her shoulders. She wasn’t the rock-princess persona the media has familiarized themselves with.

She was just Eloise.

The girl I met at a bar, scribbling in her notebook.

Fuck, I must be staring, and I just hope it hasn’t been too long, because her rich brown eyes dart in my direction. There’s a tightness in her clenched jaw and an almost sad look in her eyes that I can’t figure out.

Wish I could.

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Marlene says with a smile, pulling Eloise’s attention.

I sit at the end of the table with the band on one side and the crew on the other. A familiar position I’m always putting myself in. These four might make me want to jump off a cliff half the time, but damn if I’ll ever let something happen to them. They’re the only family I’ve got. And since I’m not great with my words, my only option is to show that in my actions.

“This is Dean—” Marlene motions toward a man sitting next to her. He can’t be more than twenty-five with his baby face and overeager green eyes. Then, she turns to the man on her other side, who might as well be Dean’s opposite with a full head of gray hair and a gruff expression. “—and this is Mark. They’re going to be your crew so get familiar. They’ll be following you around, asking questions, and getting the inside scoop on your lives.”

Eloise shifts in her seat, and I don’t miss that her fingers clench where they’re wrapped around the arms of her chair.

“Only in public,” I say firmly, looking at Marlene.

Marline smiles brightly. “In public, yes. But we also need to get to know the band outside of the public eye. Learn what makes Enemy Muse so special.”

Leaning my elbows on the table, I square off with her, needing to make myself clear. “That’s fine, but no one on your crew is following them around when they’re alone, that’s their time. You schedule all your recording times through me, am I clear?”

I see Noah cock a grin out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t move my gaze off Marlene. Right now, she might be seeing an over-protective band manager, and that’s fine. There’s no way in hell I’m letting these two guys alone in a room with any of them and risking someone feeling uncomfortable.

Marlene narrows her eyes, and I realize I’ve underestimated her. But she doesn’t let the facade crack, forcing a smile instead. “Understood.”

I nod and sit back as she continues to go over the plans for the documentary. She oozes over them like they aren’t used to this shit on a daily basis. And even Sebastian, who usually appreciates getting his ego stroked, looks checked out as she works to sell them on it.

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