by Cara Dee
“By playing drums in a rock band,” I deadpanned.
“I didn’t say it was a rational choice.”
I huffed and blew a breath between my hands, trying to warm them up. Henry offered me his gloves, but the end of his sentence was drowned out by the announcer introducing the next band. The stage went completely dark.
The crowd around us went absolutely in-fucking-sane, almost as if this band was one of the headliners. Were they?
“Wouldn’t we have known that Lincoln and Adeline’s son is a rock star?” I asked over the noise.
Henry spoke near my ear. “Her reaction was rather strange, to be honest. She seemed to be under the impression that Jesse is traveling with friends who are in a band.”
All right. That was weird.
We’d have to address that later, though. A single light shone on the stage, and a man walked under it, carrying a guitar. It was fucking freezing, yet the man wore nothing but a long-sleeved tee under a regular one. Jeans, Chucks, beanie.
“How’re you doing, Philly?” he asked as he adjusted the mic stand. Everyone went ballistic again, and the man chuckled. Two large screens lit up on each side of the stage, revealing a closer look at what was going on up there. The singer, Jesse, was older than Mattie. I estimated he was about my age.
He strummed on his guitar, a black electric one, and was joined by a woman who stopped behind another mic stand. A spotlight came on over her too.
“You know this girl.” Jesse smirked, and the girl eased into a chillingly good solo on an electric violin. “And this fucker…” The bass player was next, a heavily inked guy wearing fucking shorts.
Jesse continued, “I don’t know if you read this, but Liam just had a kid. So we picked up a drummer on the way, and I gotta say, he’s fucking fantastic.”
I watched a figure in the dark of the stage as he headed for the drums, and I realized I wasn’t breathing. It was Mattie—it had to be.
“Let’s see if he can keep up!” Jesse backed away from the mic, and two seconds later, they started the first song with a goddamn explosion. The entire stage lit up, Jesse’s guitar riff as heavy as the powerful drums. The girl on the violin was fast as hell.
I’d call it rock with Irish influences, and it seemed technical—oh, that fucking word. No, that couldn’t be why Mattie had joined, could it? He couldn’t compare technical aspects of music to those of fixing a car.
As good as Jesse was, and he had a great voice, whiskey-like, it wasn’t what I wanted the cameramen to focus on. I wanted my brother on the screens, dammit.
Nearing the end of the song, Jesse flipped the guitar onto his back and sang into the mic, the instrumental focus on the drums and violin. They chased each other, the beat revving up and going faster and faster. My eyes stung, reminding me I had to blink. And breathe. I should remember that, too. Holy fucking hell, there he was. Mattie and the drums filled the screens, and he pounded furiously until the last notes belonged to him.
“My God,” I heard Henry say in wonder. “I have no words.”
Neither did I.
Adrenaline coursed through me. The band didn’t pause for more than two seconds, and the audience filled that slot with roars and shouts, before the next song began.
What the…? Something was fiery hot on my cheeks, and I sniffled and wiped my hand over it, only to realize I was shedding tears. Jesus Christ. Half stunned, half embarrassed, I quickly wiped my face.
The set continued while I battled against a range of mixed emotions. Mattie was so motherfucking talented, but it saddened me he hadn’t wanted to say anything to us. Had I failed somewhere? Pride and confusion danced with worry and exhilaration, leaving me useless throughout their concert. I didn’t applaud or get into the beat or…anything. Every now and then, I would feel my face splitting into a grin, and then I’d feel my eyes watering again.
Chapter 11
Something-Something Drummer Boy
After the show, I didn’t know what to say, only that I had to get backstage and see my brother.
“Are you okay?” Henry asked. “He was amazing, wasn’t he?”
I nodded. He was amazing, no doubt. Jury was still out on whether or not I was okay.
It took some elbowing to get to the front of the stage area, where a security guard was too happy to grunt out, “Authorized personnel only.”
“There’s a list, right?” I asked impatiently. I wanted to get past him before the next band came on and deafened me. “We should be on it.”
He directed us to another guy working security, and he had the infamous list. Once we were through, we still had a busy area to search. Security, band members, assistants, and event personnel were milling about, going between the direct stage area and the two big tents set up against the fence. There were a few trailers too, and I had no clue where to find Mattie.
“Over there.” Henry pointed toward a tent. Craft services was set up around a circular bar with a buffet and drinks for the crew. I scanned the line and the picnic area next to it, finally spotting my brother at a table.
I stalked forward, watching as he laughed at something another guy said, and Mattie turned his ball cap backward. He had a white towel around his neck, and he looked like he’d just had a workout.
“Mattie!” I called.
His head snapped up, and his eyes went wide.
Two guys rose from where he was sitting.
“They should be here,” one of them said as we got closer. It was Jesse. “I put them on the list.”
Mattie glared up at him. “Oh yeah? When were you gonna tell your own folks about touring?”
Jesse smirked. “One issue at a time, kid. Today was your turn.” He turned his head and nodded at me. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”
I couldn’t find my words at first. The tent was heated, and I unzipped my jacket before I passed out. His drink. That was a good start. I rounded the table to join Mattie at his side, and I picked up his cup and took a sip. Plain Coke. Good boy.
“What the fuck?” I finally ground out and sat down next to him.
He flinched and dropped the French fry he’d had between his fingers and wiped his hands on his jeans. “What’re you guys doing here?”
“Wrong question.” My jaw tensed, and I had to make an effort to relax.
Henry, ever the diplomat, sat down on the other side of the Mattie and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You were fantastic on stage, Mattie. Are you doing all right?”
“You left without a word,” I blurted out. “What the hell, man? We had to hear from Ty that you dropped out of college and took off to tour with a rock band. Then you turn off your fucking phone? Do you want me to get an ulcer?”
“That’s an exaggeration,” he argued. “They’re on tour. I’m just helping out for three shows until their drummer is back.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I implored.
He huffed a breath and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “I…I panicked, okay? I was going to tell you when I came home.” His hands fell to his lap, and he looked down. In that moment, he wore the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I had to get away, and if I’d called you guys, you would’ve stopped me.”
“Stopped you how?” Henry’s eyes flashed with concern.
“You would’ve insisted on resolving this with a roundtable discussion or something.” Mattie grew frustrated. “I needed to get as far away from LA as possible, and the thought of sitting down and talking made me freak out.” He blew out a breath and twisted his cap anxiously. “I told Ty not to say anything, dammit.”
“I’m glad he did.” Henry put his hand on Mattie’s arm. “There shouldn’t be any secrets in our family, Mattie. Zachary and I can’t help if we don’t know what’s going on.”
It was my turn to speak. “Did you really quit school?”
And there it was, the guilt and the worry. Nobody wanted to be a disappointment, and with the amount of pressure he put on himself, I could venture a guess and say
he feared we’d be disappointed in him.
“Was it LA or school you needed to get as far away from as possible?” I guessed the latter.
He stared at his lap and fidgeted with his fingers. “I failed, all right? I thought I knew what I wanted to do, but my grades have been tanking all semester.”
I thought I knew what I wanted to do…
Lifting my head, I peered at the stage area where a new band was making the crowd lose it.
I cupped the back of Mattie’s neck. “You don’t wanna do engineering anymore, and finding something else makes you think you’ve failed.”
He grimaced and scratched the spot under his ear. “Maybe not failed, but I knew you’d be disappointed.”
“That you took off without telling us? Uh, yeah. That you realized there’s something else you wanna do with your life? You gotta give me more credit than that, Mattie.”
He lifted his gaze and frowned. “Even if I wanted to try music?”
“Anything. You can major in whatever the fuck you want, little brother. Um, except Liberal Arts. No need to completely throw away the money.” I flashed a little grin to lighten the mood, and I was relieved to feel some of the tension leaving him. “Look. You’re not even nineteen yet. Whether you wanna take a year off and play gigs, maybe get a job or an internship, or you wanna pick up new classes next semester, that’s on you. Henry and I are on your side, yeah?”
Mattie nodded jerkily and side-eyed me. His eyes were glistening, so I didn’t push things further. “It would be nice if I could blame you two for this,” he said and cleared his throat. “It wasn’t until you talked to me at the house that I felt the walls closing in on me.”
“It would be nice if I were in a hot tub right now, but we can’t have everything,” I said. “We saw you were about to hit a wall, so we talked to you. As evidence shows, it was about time. How long have you been pulling off both school and the music?”
He shrugged with one shoulder and took a gulp of his soda. “About a year. I’m so fucking exhausted.”
“You learned all this in a year?” I was surprised. And I deduced he’d met Jesse at the fundraiser for Adeline’s organization. “That’s incredible.” The thought hit me at another angle, and I whacked his arm. “A whole fucking year, and you didn’t tell us?”
“I’m not doing anything complicated.” He chose to ignore the latter approach. “There’s math to it. A system. But it’s possible Jesse told me I’m a natural.”
He was proud of that and wary of showing it, I could tell.
I sighed and draped an arm around his shoulders. “The nipple ring makes so much more sense now.”
“You read my mind,” Henry said with a faint smirk. “Kidding aside, be proud of your accomplishments, Matthew.”
“Whoa,” Mattie and I exclaimed at the same time.
“We don’t do that,” I added quickly. “I’ve used his full name once in the past ten years. It made him cry.”
“Yeah, that’s only for when I fuck up really bad,” Mattie said.
I pointed to him. “He had unprotected sex.”
“You gotta bring it up again?” Mattie complained. “It was one time!”
“‘Once it’s all it takes before you’ll discover the sounds a baby makes,’” I quoted Nan.
“For chrissakes, focus,” Henry interrupted us. “Fair enough, no full name. Which is a shame, it’s a beautiful name. Now, there was something about other shows?”
Good direction.
“We have DC tomorrow,” he answered. “Then New York and Boston. I’ll be home one day late, that’s it. And you can talk to Jesse if you want. He’s more anal than you two, and he’s straight. He won’t even let me drink beer.”
Henry and I exchanged a look, and we were a little appeased by that. We all knew beer was the gateway to heroin and Satanism.
“You have to call us twice a day,” Henry stated. “This is new territory for us, and we worry.”
I nodded, debating on whether or not I should get another beer before we went back to the hotel. “Nothing wrong with three times a day either.”
“Excellent point,” Henry agreed.
“Fine.” Mattie pretended to be annoyed, and he did a poor job of it. My guess was he was relieved and could finally unclench. “Is there something else? Should you insert a GPS chip under my skin?”
Henry seemed to ponder that.
“With the holiday season upon us,” I said, “I’m disappointed I don’t have any Drummer Boy jokes.”
“Jesse has a shit-ton,” Mattie groaned through a laugh. “What’s the first thing a drummer says when moving to LA? ‘Would you like fries with that, sir?’” Henry grinned, and I chuckled. “Oh, and he told me this one earlier,” he went on. “Know why drummers have a lot of kids? They suck at the rhythm method.”
I pointed at him and faced Henry. “We’re buying him condoms for Christmas.”
“That would be good, ’cause…” Mattie unzipped his hoodie to reveal the tee he wore underneath.
It said, “Save a drum, bang a drummer.”
Actually, I think I saw a 7-Eleven down the street. Why wait till Christmas?
Chapter 12
Jinx Me, Motherfucker, I Dare You
There was a limit to the amount of travel I could do in a span of twenty-four hours without losing my fucking mind, so Henry and I stayed in Philly the following day. It turned out for the best, because we got to have breakfast with Mattie and Jesse before they were off to the capital, and it helped to get to know Jesse a little.
The next day after that, we were on the morning flight back to Seattle. Despite exhaustion and grumpy moods, we had stuff to do and didn’t go straight home. Instead, we found ourselves bickering about the stupidest shit while we bought the last of the Christmas presents.
There was nothing like walking up and down the aisles of Target in a shitty mood.
“We don’t need more chargers,” I griped.
“I’d agree if you didn’t misplace every charger you touched,” he responded irritably.
I rolled my eyes and threw a couple gift cards for Xbox and PlayStation in the cart. My stocking stuffers were gonna be better than Henry’s, that was for sure.
“Oh, honestly.” He picked up one of the gift cards. “We don’t own an Xbox. The boys use PlayStation.”
My temper flared further. “Did it ever occur to you I was gonna get them an Xbox?”
He cocked a brow. “Were you?”
Well, no. But now I was getting them a motherfucking Xbox. I turned around and walked away.
“Mature, Zachary,” he hollered.
“Bite me!” I called over my shoulder.
Knowing full well I was walking in the wrong direction—’cause the gaming consoles were obviously among the other tech stuff—I kept on going until I wasn’t really sure where I was. I encountered women’s clothes, so I backtracked from there. Shoes…kids’ clothes and toys… I stopped, then took a few steps back once more.
I eyed a rack of pajama sets for young girls. The plaid flannel bottoms ranged from green-blue to gray-pink and were cute and comfy-looking, but it was the soft cotton tees that drew my attention. Warrior Princess by Day, But Now It’s Night-Night. My mouth twisted into a smile as I read the prints. I’m a Sleepy Future President. I chuckled and touched the shirt. My Plans to Take Over the World Continue Tomorrow.
“Zach, what are you—” Henry stopped himself, and I heard him walk closer. Even my annoyance was too tired to go on, so I guess I gave up.
“I like these,” I admitted.
He buried the hatchet too and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I love you.”
“I love you too, I’m so fucking hungry it’s not even funny, and I wanna have kids now.”
Henry laughed softly and hugged me to him. “In that order?”
“A pizza might come before you right now.” I lifted my gaze and kissed his chin. “I’m sorry I was a dick.”
He touched my cheek. “I apologize f
or being an ass.”
“Hey, those two go together.”
Darkness had fallen by the time we made it home, and Henry idled in front of the garage, eyes trained on the living room upstairs. “Something is wrong.”
“What?” Alarm shot through me, and I leaned forward to see what he was seeing. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything.” Then my anger got the best of me. “I’m asking for one fucking Christmas without shit blowing up in my face! Is that too much—”
“Hey—hey.” Henry had laughter in his eyes. “I’m sorry, darling, I was making a joke. I was going to point out that we didn’t have the red carpet out because the queen is visiting.”
I blinked. And stared at him.
He pointed toward the window. “The luggage by the coffee table.”
Okay. Coffee table—yeah, okay, I saw them. Four bags in matching blue with streaks of silver. I knew those. They belonged to Martin. The queen.
I dragged my gaze back to Henry. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
That set him off, and he laughed as he parked the car outside the garage. We were gonna have to make two trips ’cause we had luggage as well as a dozen shopping bags. While we didn’t have children yet, we’d made plans to drop off toys and clothes at Adeline’s organization on the twenty-fourth, and I may have bought all kinds of pajamas.
“Isn’t he early?” I asked, passing Martin’s rental in Henry’s spot.
Ty was due home tomorrow, and Martin was supposed to have arrived the day after.
Mattie was dutifully keeping up with our communication, and he’d both called and sent a picture once they’d arrived in New York.
“You never know with him,” Henry replied. “Maybe someone stole his car again.”
I snickered and pushed the door open with my shoulder, and the sight inside the house made me raise my brows.