Page 38 of Reverb

It was an easy silence between us, because we’d known each other a long time. But I snuck glances at him when he wasn’t looking. For once, I wanted to break the silence. But as usual, I couldn’t find the right words.

“Callie’s going to play on the album,” Denver said, not looking up from his pages.

I thought that over. We’d never used keyboards live, and we’d used them a couple times on our records, played by Denver or Neal. They didn’t suck, but having someone of Callie’s caliber on keys would be huge. “Keys would sound good in ‘Exile.’”

“Exactly what I thought. And I’m working on something new. I’m calling it ‘Raven’ for now. It’s different, a little trippy. A psychedelic feel.” He found the page he’d been looking for and put a finger on it. “I had some ideas a few weeks ago, wrote them down. I’m ready to start fleshing it out. Keys would be great with what I’m hearing in my head.”

“Fine with me,” I said. “Did you talk to the others about it?”

“It was Neal’s idea,” Denver said.

“And Axel will be in.”

That made it a done deal. It’s how we handled band business.

Denver showed me the scribbled page in his notebook, and I put down the guitar strings to read it. It didn’t make much sense yet, but I let the words flow through my mind, just to see if I heard any music with it. And I did.

I nodded, handing the notebook back. “Let me get these strings done and we’ll work on it.”

“Okay.” He grinned at me. “Now, ask what you want to ask.”

I scowled at him. “What?”

“You keep looking at me like you want to ask something.”

Fuck him. Fuck people who had known you so long they could read you too well.

But I did want to ask him things. What it felt like to be with Callie the way he was, the two of them together. How it had happened. How they made it work. What it was like to actually be with the woman you were crazy about.

I wanted to tell him about Sienna. I wanted to ask him what he thought I should do.

I couldn’t do that. Could I?

I didn’t have words for a minute. Denny waited, patient. Then I said, “Is Callie going to move in with you?”

“Nope,” he replied. “I asked her, and she’s not ready. She likes her apartment and her cat. She has a piano at her place that wouldn’t fit here.” He looked around. “And she lives in a studio, so if I moved in there, I’d be in her lap. Which she also doesn’t want.”

“That bother you?” I asked him.

“Nope,” he said again. “We’ll figure something out eventually. In the meantime, it’s probably for the best. I wouldn’t want to live with me, either. I’m basically a stray dog.”

I nodded. I knew what he meant. I could clean up after myself—I’d learned that early—but I kept weird hours, came and went randomly, and almost never cooked and ate a proper meal. I was trying to get better at showering, but it was taking effort.

I scratched the back of my neck. “Angie asked me out,” I said. “On a date.”

Denver’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

“I went to dinner with her,” I continued. “I let her down in person. She deserved that. Nothing happened.”

He let out a breath. “Okay.” For once, he didn’t rib me. “That must have been awkward.”

“She’s really fucking nice,” I said. “Her husband died and she’s lonely, that’s all. She’s smart as shit. I think we should let her handle everything for us. Not just the record deal, everything. Get her to manage us. Give her the cut she wants. I think she’s perfect for it, and I think we can trust her.”

Denver nodded. “Okay. We should get something in writing. Draw up a contract.”

“I’m going to give Sienna her interviews,” I said, because I could always dance around what I wanted to say without saying it. “You don’t have to worry about the Soundcheck thing anymore.”

Denver blinked, patient. I could kick his ass for knowing me like this.

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