His eyes bugged. “Shit! I’m late for work. Ah...I gotta go.” He started to back away, then paused as if he needed my permission or something.
I laughed and waved him away. “Go, man. And sorry about that. I would’ve woken you sooner if I’d known. I should’ve asked.”
“No biggie.” Scooping up his shoes he’d kicked off at some point in our Call of Duty wars, he raced toward the stairwell, waving his fingers at Mozart once again cooped up in his cage as he went.
“See you at practice,” I called after him, grinning over his flurried departure.
“Yeah, see you,” his voice echoed back down the stairs.
Once the door slammed after him, my smile died. The room suddenly felt a lot...emptier. Not even my squirrel rattling around in his cage could fill the void.
Blowing out a breath, I decided I had other things to worry about. A fuel line to replace, a new gig to plan for, music for our newest song to compose.
Busy, busy, busy. I had no time to feel alone.
“Dude,” Remy hissed in my ear, clutching my arm hard. “You didn’t say anything about Fish ’N’ Dicks being here tonight.”
We’d just arrived at the Grenada where the band Sticks had named was on stage, already performing.
“Yeah, I did. I said two other groups would be playing tonight before us,” I called over the blaring sound.
“But you didn’t specify that Fish ’N’ Dicks’s would be one of them.”
I frowned at him, wondering why he sounded so pissed. Then I shrugged. “I don’t see the big deal. Their song ‘Tomorrow’s Promise’ is kick-ass.”
That comment seemed to catch my drummer off guard before he said, “Really?” as if I’d just complimented his outfit. Then he suddenly straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Their lead singer’s an asshole.”
I only laughed. “If assholes bugged me, I never would’ve made a band with Gally in it.”
“Huh?” Gally glanced over, only hearing his name.
Remy glanced at the bass guitarist and promptly turned back to me. “Good point.” And he shut up about it from that point on...until we actually ran into the other band backstage as they were coming off and we were preparing to go on after the second group sang.
Yeah, I said that right. We were the grand finale performance. Boo-yah.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Non-Castrato,” the lead singer said as he spotted the four of us together. I think his name was something Fisher, but at the moment, his given name escaped me. “It’s Hart, right?”
When I nodded, not letting him know I didn’t remember his name in return, I simply said, “Hey, man. What’s up?”
He slid his gaze to Remy, who I felt tense beside me. “Not much. Heard you guys had to get a new drummer. The last one did...what again? Went to jail for burning his entire family in a house fire, was it?”
“He was asking where you lived, too,” Remy spat back.
Gally started hooting at his burn, which got Holden to chuckling too.
I sent Remy a behave glare, but he was ignoring me, narrowing his eyes on the guy with the fish tattoo taking up half his face.
“Who the fuck are you?” Fish Boy demanded, scowling at my drummer.
And my drummer scowled right back. “None of your fucking business.”
The two stepped toward each other as if to start brawling then and there, so I put up my hand between them. “Hey, hey, hey. We’re here to play tonight, fellas. Not brawl.”
Remy immediately blew out a breath and retreated, but the other guy kept glaring.
“Your drummer has a serious attitude problem.”
“He’s fine,” I assured him, patting his chest to send him on his way. “Good job tonight.”
Finally pacified, Fish-face sniffed at us and whirled away to storm off.
“What the hell?” I hissed to Remy as soon as he was gone. It was usually Gally I had to worry about acting up and getting into a fight.
He shrugged and glanced away. “I just hate that bastard,” he mumbled.
I lifted my eyebrows. “And you actually know him, because he didn’t seem to know you.”
Remy glanced at me. “I...I know a girl who dated him...and royally got screwed over by him. To say the least, I’m not a fan.”
“Okay, fine,” I relented. “Just warn me next time you’re going to get mouthy with an opposing band so I’ll be prepared.”
“Well, if I’d known he was going to be here—”
“Fine. Fine.” I lifted my hands. “And I’ll warn you if we ever play in the same venue with them again.”
“Thank you.” He sent me one last pouty glance and that was that.
We had our turn on stage, played our hearts out, and left the crowd screaming and begging for more. As Gally, Heath and Remy started for the back room that had been assigned to just us for the evening, the owner of the club stopped me with a cash payment.