“We’ll make time.” Gavin pulls off and parks in front of Gibson’s bar. We walk up to Luke’s Inside Out food truck and he orders us each a cheeseburger combo.
He hands me a bag that smells like heaven, and while I should be starving, my stomach is too busy working its way through a gymnastics routine to digest food. I eat slowly as Gavin pulls back into traffic, and notice that the clock on the dash says five fifteen, the same thing it said the last time I looked. Over an hour ago.
“Um, Gavin?” I say through a mouthful of french fries. “Does that clock work?” I swallow and take a sip of Diet Coke before pulling out my phone.
“Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. “No, apparently it doesn’t.”
According to my phone it’s ten minutes until seven. “It’s six fifty,” I whisper, afraid voicing it too loudly will make it real. “How far are we from Sixth Street?”
“’Bout fifteen or twenty minutes give or take,” Gavin tells me. “Damn it.” He swerves roughly around two cars and speeds through an intersection, nearly giving me a heart attack.
“It won’t do us any good if we’re dead before we get there.”
“Sorry.” Gavin rakes his fingers through his hair, then slams his hand against the steering wheel. “Fuck it. I’m going to have to call a buddy of mine and see if he can help Dallas set up my kit. We’re going to be late.”
“Eat, Gavin. Finish your food. I’m done. I’ll text him.” I take his phone and type out a quick message to my brother that I hope sounds Gavin-ish. The response comes instantly. “He’s already got it handled. He said just come to the stage and hurry.”
I drain my drink and toss the empty cup in my bag, which I set aside, and then pull out my purse. Thankfully I folded my dress instead of wadding it up.
My jeans are halfway down my legs when Gavin nearly chokes on his burger. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Changing. We don’t have time to go to the hotel and I can’t very well perform in this.”
“Right. Okay.” He nods and stares straight ahead, his flexing forearms and flinching jawline the only indicators that my impromptu wardrobe change is making him uncomfortable.
I try to be discreet, pulling the dress up under his shirt before I take it off. I let my hair down, knowing it’s going to get soaked anyway so a ponytail crease is the least of my concerns.
Once I’m done, he finally turns and asks me to text his friend Janie and tells her the car will be parked as close as he can get it to the stage where we’re performing. I do, and then I’m putting my jeans in my bag when I see the access key card to my hotel room that I still haven’t worked up the courage to give him.
Later. I’ll give it to him later.
Chapter 19
“NO MORE SUSHI FOR YOU, LITTLE SISTER,” DALLAS TELLS ME after Gavin and I sprint from the car to the stage in the rain.
“Trust me, I have no interest in . . . sushi.”
I try hard not to smile at the smirk on Gavin’s face. I’m pretty sure he’ll be referring to Afton as “Sushi” from here on out.
“Well I’m glad you’re feeling better. Looks like they’re going to delay sound checks for opening acts another half hour due to the weather.”
If I let a laugh out right now, it will cross quickly over into hysteria. We nearly got killed rushing to get here. We broke every traffic law known to man. I ran my ass off in stiletto-heeled boots in the pouring rain, narrowly avoiding busting it on slick cement. And we still have a half hour until we can plug in our equipment. I nod and glance at Gavin, who’s shaking the water out of his drenched hair like a wet mutt. His mouth threatens to smile at me and I shake my head.
The three of us step under the blue awning of a nearby bar and huddle together like everyone else is doing.
“Where’s Mandy?” I ask my brother, just to make conversation.