“Sure,” I mumble still overwhelmed.
Benny knocks and pushes the door open to announce the rest of Kickstart has arrived.
“What’s up, brother!” Andrew high-fives Jacob. “Killer show!”
“You watched?” Jacob asks.
“Damn right! You dudes rocked the house!”
Poor Judy’s wide-eyed and pale. Maybe this is too much rock star friendship for her fragile fangirl heart to handle.
“Do they hang out a lot?” she asks me.
“Chaser is working on a project with Andrew, so they’ve been playing together quite a bit recently.”
“Wow. Can we expect a Kickstart/Vicious Vandals collaboration soon, guys?” she asks.
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Andrew winks at her.
We pose for some photos while she peppers the guys with questions.
Eventually, everyone winds down, and after throwing a warning scowl at Andrew, Vinnie walks Judy out.
“That was cool. Thanks, bro.” Garrett shakes Andrew’s hand.
“No problem.” Andrew’s gaze slides to Chaser. “Did Chaser tell you Mark Cutter might be interested in working with you? He had to leave before your set, but he’s planning to come see you play Sunday night.”
“Holy shit?” Jacob punches his fist in the air. “Seriously?”
Andrew bobs his head up and down. “My thanks for letting me borrow Chaser.”
Chaser huffs out a laugh.
“You nodding out on me, bro?” Andrew reaches into his pocket. “I got something for you.”
“I’m good.” Chaser holds up his hands and takes a step back.
“You sure?” Andrew waves a baggie of white powder at him. “It’s the same stuff from Col—”
“I said, I’m fine.” Chaser curls his arm around me. “Let’s go catch the rest of the show.”
“Are you upset?” I ask when we’re alone.
“No, I just think it’s rude for us not to watch the band who invited us to open for them.”
“Andrew does have a way of making everything about him, huh?” I tease.
“Yeah, but he’s so nice about it—”
“You can’t be mad?”
“Something like that.”
“Hold up!” Alvin calls.
We stop and turn, waiting for him to reach us.
Alvin swipes at his nose and lifts his gaze to Chaser. “They’re skiing. After what Val said, I don’t even want to be in the vicinity.”
“Jesus Christ.” Chaser scowls in the direction of the room we just vacated. “I thought Jacob needed vocal rest?”
“He’s a big boy.” Alvin shrugs. “Let’s go watch the show.”
“We don’t need more rumors spreading.”
Alvin follows Chaser’s gaze. “Andrew doesn’t need the bad press either. It’ll be fine.”
Somehow, I don’t think it’s that simple. Secrets have a way of coming to light at the worst possible time.
But it’s not my decision to make. So when Chaser takes my hand, I follow.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chaser
A loud thump, followed by shrill laughter, wakes me out of a dead sleep.
“What’s going on?” Mallory mumbles.
“I don’t know. Stay here.”
I’d lost track of Garrett and Jacob after the show last night. Andrew had disappeared too. Although, judging from the sounds in the hallway, he didn’t go far.
“Woooo!” someone screams.
Thuds and bangs echo up and down the hallway.
I open the door as Jacob races by in his underwear, followed by Andrew in his black leather thong.
“What the fuck? It’s five in the morning.”
“Chaser! We were looking all over for you.” Andrew wraps his hand around my arm and tries to yank me into the hallway.
“I was sleeping.”
“Oh, fuck! Run! Security’s coming.” Jacob races past us, then backpedals.
“No you don’t. Go hide in your own room.”
Behind me, the phone rings, and I slam the door shut, locking it.
“Fuckers.”
“It’s Val,” Mallory calls out.
I snatch the phone out of her hand. “What?”
“Please tell me Jacob isn’t responsible for all that noise?”
“And Andrew.”
“You need to stop him. The hotel’s going to throw all of us out if they get any more complaints.”
“Jesus Christ, Val.”
“Robbie’s on his way up.”
“Great.” I slam the phone down and search the floor for my jeans.
“What’s going on?” Mallory asks.
“Jacob’s going to get us all thrown out.”
She tosses the covers back. “I’ll help—”
“No. Stay here.”
She watches me for a few seconds before agreeing.
I throw on a T-shirt and stalk into the hallway, running into Robbie. “Where’d they go?” he asks.
“That way.”
Alvin runs around the corner, tripping and then catching himself. “They’re going up on the roof. Hurry.”
“What?”
Robbie and I race after him into the stairwell and jog the eight or nine flights up to the door that opens to the roof.
“Woooo!”
“Sounds like Andrew,” I mutter. He’s not my responsibility, though, Jacob is.
My bare feet scratch over the rough roof top tiles. Orange flickering light guides our way to Andrew, Jacob, and Garrett roasting marshmallows over a small black, charcoal grill.
“You started a fire up here?” Alvin asks.
Andrew glances up and grins when he sees us. “I paid a guy to let us borrow the rooftop grill. Isn’t that rad?”
One day I want to start a game where I punch Andrew in the face every time the word rad comes out of his mouth.
Jacob salutes me with a bottle of whiskey, sloshing enough around for flames to shoot up.