“Which laugh?”
“Your real one.”
I laugh all the time, but those are fakes. He’s right. That was the first time in a long time that I’ve laughed for real. It quickly fades. My eyes dip to the floor.
“Did I upset you?” Cale squeezes my shoulder.
I look up, meeting his warm gaze. “No.” I shake my head. “I’m just not looking forward to the tour as much as I was. Tom will probably make groupie night mandatory or something.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.” Cale grins.
“What doesn’t sound so bad?” Van asks.
“Nothing,” I answer quickly, shooting Cale a look.
He starts to laugh.
I shove him on the shoulder. “You’re gross, you know that?”
“Not as gross as Sonny.”
“Who’s not as gross as me?” Sonny asks.
“Van,” Cale deflects.
A moment later, I feel Cale’s finger under my chin. He brings my face toward him. “Ly, don’t worry about Tom. It’s gonna be fine, better than fine. It’s gonna be awesome.”
“Awesome. Sure.” I roll my eyes.
Seriously, what is going to be awesome about touring with the mut of rock, who has hit on me every time I see him?
Nothing—that’s what.
A Few Days Later—Tour Bus, LA
“Can you believe we’re here, Ly?” Cale slings his arm around my shoulders.
I shake my head, taking in my surroundings.
I’m more excited now that we’re here than I have been since I heard who our new manager was. But I’m over that. It’ll be fine. Because we’re here!
Today is the day we set off on tour. And tomorrow night, we’ll be playing Seattle, and I cannot wait!
I’m standing in the galley of the tour bus, and the place is amazing. Beyond amazing.
Laid out before me is a living area, complete with a leather seating area and a TV fixed on the wall. I spy a DVD player and a PlayStation. That should keep the boys entertained. There’s a table attached to the wall with seating around it. The kitchen has a wall-fitted unit with a built-in range and oven, a small refrigerator, and a microwave.
I follow Cale down the hall to where Sonny and Van are, and I see the bathroom on the right. Shower, no bath. I’m going to miss my baths for the next six weeks.
“Four bunks here,” Van says when we reach them. “And a bedroom for when I want to get laid, which will be every night.” He grins.
“Bedroom is Ly’s,” Cale asserts.
Two pairs of unamused eyes stare at him.
“What the hell?” Sonny whines. “I thought that room was going to be our pussy palace.”
Pussy palace? How does he come up with this shit?
“Look, I have no issue with sleeping in a bunk. I’m used to the stinky smell of you all,” I say.
Honestly, I don’t care where I sleep just as long as I’m here, and this is happening.
“I smell like man, and you love me for it.” Sonny wraps his arm around my neck, pulling to him, squashing my face into his rock-hard pecs.
“Love might be pushing it,” I retort, pushing away from him. “More like tolerate.”
“You so love me.” He grins.
“I love you like I love athlete’s foot.” I smirk.
“Children, sorry to interrupt, but are we gonna make a decision on the bed situation?” Van asks.
“Ly should have the bedroom,” Cale reiterates.
“Like I said, I really don’t care where I sleep.” Then, I meet Cale’s firm stare. “But I’d love to have the bedroom,” I backtrack
“You should take the bed, Ly,” Van says from behind me.
I turn, looking at him, and I smile.
He smiles back. Van really does have the best smile. His whole face lights up with it.
“We’ll just find somewhere else to fuck, if not in our bunks,” Van adds.
Such a way with words. What was I saying about his nice smile?
“Well, seeing as though you’re both saying it, now, I’m gonna have to,” Sonny complains. “Ly, you should take the fucking bed.”
“Thanks, Sonny.” I pat his hard chest. “You’re a real gem. How about this? I have the bedroom, and when one of you scores, you can have the room for as long as you need it, but you have to change the sheets.”
“And this is why I love you.” Sonny presses a kiss on the top of my head.
“Deal.” Van offers me his knuckles, so I fist bump him.
“You’re a softie” Cale says in my ear as I watch Sonny and Van checking out the bedroom.
I shrug. Then, I feel my cell vibrate against my butt. I pull it out. Unknown number. I hesitate, worried. It might be a call I don’t want to take, but then it could be someone calling about the tour. It wouldn’t be Dina or Zane because I already spoke to them earlier. I haven’t spoken to Tom yet. Everything has been arranged through Zane or Dina, so I guess it could be him. I’m not even sure when I’ll see Tom, not that it matters. But he’ll probably fly in tomorrow. People like Tom don’t travel on buses.
“Just gonna take this.” I wave my vibrating cell at Cale.
Decision made, I connect the call as I start walking back through the bus. “Hello?”
“Lyla, it’s Jake.”
That stops me in my tracks.
Of course I’ve spoken to and met Jake before plenty of times, but he’s never called my cell.
“Hi.” Shit. My voice has gone squeaky. I clear my throat. “Is everything okay?”
“You tell me.”
My stomach drops.
“Rally Brochstein—he’s your father.” It’s not a question. Jake knows.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My hand starts to sweat around my phone.
I quickly make my way off the bus and practically run down the side to the back, putting distance between me and the people loading up the tour buses.
You see, there’s something about my father that I haven’t been totally upfront about with Jake or Zane or anyone at TMS Records. I tend to keep who my father is and who my mother was private. People treat me differently when they find out who my parents are. Especially my father. He’s kind of a big deal in the music business.
Okay, he’s a huge deal.
And he and Jake don’t get along.
Rally Brochstein, owner of Rally Records. He’s discovered some of the biggest talents the world has ever seen.
The Mighty Storm is one of them.
Yes, I’m talking about the Rally Records, the label which first signed The Mighty Storm, TMS. The label that TMS walked away from.