“Hi,” I say awkwardly. “I volunteered to pick up lunch for everyone,” I explain.
“Face it, you wanted to see me,” she jokes, pulling on a pair of gloves.
“That too.”
I start giving her the order, because I do have to return with sandwiches, chips, and soda.
“You wanted Waffle House, huh?” she jokes, putting the first sub in the toaster oven.
“Kira told you?” I laugh when she nods. “What can I say, I love me some Waffle House. We haven’t been back in too long.”
“Yeah, because we rarely have time in the mornings,” she reminds me, taking the sub out of the toaster. She starts adding the toppings before I can tell her—having already memorized what each of us orders.
“True, but Waffle House is an any time of the day kind of place. We should go tonight.”
She raises a brow. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“Shit,” I curse. “We’ve never been on an actual date have we?”
“No, and I don’t need one.”
“I should probably take you somewhere fancier than Waffle House.”
“I love Waffle House,” she retorts. “I don’t need fancy, Hollis. I never have and I never will. I’m simple.”
“Okay—so Waffle House tonight then?”
“Yes, as long as you promise we never have to say Waffle House this many times in a conversation ever again.”
I grin. “Deal.”
She finishes the sandwiches fifteen minutes later and I head out into the cold. I borrowed Cannon’s car since my bike is useless in this frigid weather.
I wish I could’ve stayed longer, but she’s working and Hayes will wonder what’s taking so fucking long if I don’t get back soon.
I don’t bother driving back to the hotel garage and walking over to the studio. Instead I park in the small lot in the back beside Hayes’s Range Rover.
I grab the bag of food and barely step inside when I’m attacked by my friends.
“Sustenance!” Fox cries, trying to swipe the bag from my hands.
“Give me that, I’m hungry,” Rush groans, tugging on the bag.
“Guys,” Cannon says, walking into the front room of the studio, “chill. We all have food. You’re acting like fools.”
“Whatever, Dad,” Rush grumbles but lets go of the bag.
With the bag safely in my possession once more I start handing out the wrapped subs.
We sit down in the front area since there’s more room to spread out than in the recording studio. Hayes joins us. It was awkward at first, spending time with him like this, especially after the way he found us in D.C. He’s an icon, but a father figure nonetheless. I feel the need to watch what I say around him, wanting his approval of me as a person. I wanted that before I even had anything going on with Mia. Hayes is the kind of man who despite what he may have done in his past is a good person. You’d be an idiot not to want him to like you.
He’ll never like you once he finds out what you’ve been up to with his daughter.
My sandwich suddenly tastes sour.
“How are you guys feeling about the album?” Hayes asks, grabbing one of the bags of sour cream and onion chips.
“It’s the best music we’ve ever made,” Rush says honestly. “You can tell how well we work together and the lyrics flow.”