“Yeah, no problem.” Brian climbed to his feet.
While Brian signed an autograph with his uninjured right hand, the officer talked to Myrna. “We probably have enough to keep your ex-husband incarcerated until he goes back to court—the idiot removed his house arrest ankle bracelet, is hundreds of miles outside his perimeter, and violated a restraining order—but I suggest you press additional charges against him. The more we have against this guy, the easier it wil be to keep him locked up.”
She glanced at Brian, who was pushing on the knuckles of his injured hand and scowling. “I need to take Brian to the hospital and get his hand checked out. Can I press charges later?”
“Um, yeah. Just go downtown and file a complaint as soon as possible. Sinclair should press charges, too.”
“I wil definitely press charges,” Brian said. “I’m even considering making some shit up.”
Chapter 37
A week later, sitting amongst a pile of dirty laundry and empty beer cans on the pigsty bus, Brian entered into a pentatonic scale progression and Trey echoed him two notes behind.
When they reached the end of the riff, Sed said, “Yeah, I like that. Eric, what do you have?”
“It’s hard to compose when your drum kit is locked in a truck, dude.” He tapped his sticks on the side of the refrigerator beside him. “That’s the beat I hear, but without my cymbals and my bass drums and…” He sighed and shook his head.
“We real y need to find some studio time,” Brian said. “When’s our next break?” Because of Brian’s injured hand, their last break had been a complete bust. His hand hadn’t been broken, but the swel ing had kept him from playing for almost a week. Al the recording they’d planned to do in the studio had been a complete wash. They hadn’t been forced to cancel tour dates, but Brian knew last night’s performance had been less than stel ar on his part.
“We’ve got another week on the road, and then two weeks off at the end of June,” Sed said. “We’l get some recording done then. For now, we’l just keep writing so we’re ready when the time comes.”
“As often as Sinclair gets laid, we’l have enough guitar music for ten albums,” Trey said around his sucker. Jace thumped Brian on the back. “You need to start composing bass riffs, too. I can’t keep up.”
Brian glanced at Jace over his shoulder and smiled. “I’l give it a try.”
“Where’s your lady love, anyway?” Sed asked.
“She’s on the other bus working on her research stuff,” Brian said. “She said we’re too distracting and she’s never going to get it done if she doesn’t hide from us for a couple of hours.”
“So that’s why we’re having a session on the pigsty bus. That woman knows how to get exactly what she wants, doesn’t she?”
Trey chuckled. “No wonder Brian’s in love.”
Jace thumped Brian on the back again.
“Too bad the feeling isn’t mutual,” Brian muttered under his breath. He reached for a sheet of music from the stack on the table. This one had splatters of chocolate syrup al over it. Recal ing what he’d been doing when this gem had come to him, he grinned to himself.
“What do you mean, it isn’t mutual?” Trey asked. “You stormed the castle and saved her from the evil dragon. And no woman would put up with five slobs for five weeks for the sake of research. She loves you, man. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t love you.”
Brian snorted. “Try convincing her of that. She’s just here to work.”
“Who cares if she loves him?” Eric said. “She f**ks him wel , keeps the bus clean, and cooks us meals. As far as I’m concerned, no one loses in this game.”
Sed shoved Eric off the counter onto the floor. “Don’t talk about Myrna like that, you prick.”
Eric climbed to his feet and shoved Sed, before retreating to the other side of the bus and sitting next to Trey at the dining room table. “I don’t mean any disrespect. She’s a great woman. I just mean, if she doesn’t want to admit that she loves Brian, what’s the big deal?”
“It’s nice to hear it,” Sed murmured to the floor. He glanced up at Brian and smiled. “You’d like to hear her say it, wouldn’t you?”
Brian shrugged. “Neither one of us has said it.”
“You haven’t told her?” Trey asked. “Dummy. She’s probably one of those chicks who refuses to say it first.”
Brian shook his head. “She forbids it. You’ve heard her. When anyone asks her about us, she just laughs and says it’s nothing serious. We’re just having a good time.”
“No one believes that, Brian,” Trey said. “You don’t believe it, do you?”
Maybe. “Just drop it, okay?”
“That woman has got you by the bal s, Brian,” Jace said.
Brian glanced up at him and laughed. “Yeah, but the way she grips them—hard enough to get my attention, but not so hard that I want to get away—feels so good.”
Eric commenced to banging his head on the table.
Maybe he did need to tel her how he felt and to hel with her barriers. What’s the worst that could happen?
She could leave.
His stomach plummeted.
He’d wait a while longer.
Brian shook the chocolate splattered sheet music at Trey. “I think this solo fits wel with that last riff.”
Trey offered him a sad little smile. “Okay, then. Let’s hear it.”
Chapter 38
Myrna entered more numbers into the spreadsheet on her computer. Her survey gave consistent, reliable data and showed two strong behavioral trends among the groupies. She had no doubt that this research was going to save her entire career. And if it didn’t, it wasn’t the end of the world. She’d started working on a proposal for a nonfiction book guaranteed to be a bestsel er.
“I hope you’re smiling like that because you’re thinking about me,” Brian said.
She glanced up from the computer screen. She hadn’t heard him enter the bus. He kissed her cheek and slid into the booth across from her.
Her smile brightened. “I’m always thinking about you.”
There was a clatter near the front of the bus as Trey entered. “Myrna,” he said, “look what I’ve got.”
“Cherry suckers?” she guessed.
“Fresh shrimp. One of the roadies bought them. Wil you make some shrimp scampi?” He set the bag on the table and gave her his puppy dog look. The one he knew she couldn’t resist. “Pwease.”