“Not a chance in hell,” Jordan growled, kissing Maysie long and hard on the lips.
“Ugh, see what you’ve started, Viv!” Garrett complained, tossing the game controller on the coffee table and handing me a beer. I took it with a “Thanks” and gave him a pointed look.
“As if you and Riley are any different,” I challenged.
“I wish Ri would let me put my tongue down her throat in public!” Garrett joked, smacking Jordan on the back of the head, interrupting him as he devoured Maysie’s face.
“Maysie told us what happened,” Gracie said, her eyes flitting over to Mitch who was looking stanchly at the guitar in his lap.
“Yeah. We’re in deep shit right now. Even more if the label decides to not release our album,” Jordan muttered, releasing Maysie who slithered off his lap.
“So if Pirate Records decides not to release your record, what will happen then?” I asked.
“We have no fucking clue. Except that the music on that album will never be heard by anyone. Ever,” Mitch said bitterly.
“It’s bullshit,” Jordan said sharply.
“So what’s the next step then?” Gracie asked, accepting a bottle of iced tea that Garrett had thoughtfully offered her with a smile.
“We just have to wait and see what the label says next week. We’re flying up to New York next Tuesday. Until then we’re supposed to ‘sort our shit out,’” Garrett mimicked, obviously unhappy with the idea.
“And how exactly are you planning to sort your shit out?” I asked, noticing that throughout this entire conversation, not a single one of them had mentioned Cole.
Jordan shrugged. “We’ve got a lot to talk about. Things we have to work through. I’m not really sure where we’ll end up at the end of all this.” He said it lightly but I could tell he was worried. Maysie rubbed his back, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“Do some of the things you need to work through include Cole?” I asked bluntly. Sitting there in Garrett’s living room without one of the main players felt strange and more than a little wrong.
I was frustrated on his behalf. Hurt and secondary betrayal stung my veins. Not that he deserved any consideration on my part, but I couldn’t help it.
Here were his best friends, his bandmates, and they existed in their group as if he were already gone.
Garrett gave me a strange look. I couldn’t quite decipher his expression. Garrett was a hard guy to read. He hid his emotions behind a blasé demeanor. Until Riley came into the picture, I hadn’t been entirely sure he was capable of feelings it all. He had spent most of his time numbing them with weed and booze.
“Cole is a big part of the problem, yeah,” Garrett said after a beat.
“Really? Why is that?” Gracie gave me a look that clearly said I needed to shut up. It really wasn’t any of my business and the glance Mitch and Jordan threw my way said as much.
But I wanted to know. I wanted to hear from them what exactly the problem was.
Garrett popped the cap off his beer and tossed it into the now empty case on the table. “Let’s just say some people forget too quickly where they came from.”
I felt my face get hot and an unreasonable irritation spread wildly through my insides. It wasn’t right that they were sitting here gossiping like old bitches behind Cole’s back. It wasn’t cool that they were holding onto their anger without having the decency to talk to him about it.
I didn’t know what went down except through secondhand knowledge. I had no idea what it was like on the road with Cole. But I did know that he had been friends with the three guys sat in front of me for years. They had built a band and created music together. They had started a journey together and there were always two sides to every story.
Given my recent anger towards Cole, I was surprised with how quickly my heart and mind had jumped to his defense.