Page 28 of Hard Rock Deceit

"It's okay," I said, the words almost a squeak. "It's loud. I couldn't reallysleep."

"I can tell them to keepitdown."

"No. It's fine. Let them party. I don't want to be adowner."

We stared at each other insilence.

"There isn't another room," August said eventually. "None of the suites had six bedrooms. Noah and I were going to share the one room withtwobeds."

I looked at the second bed, sheets smoothed anduntouched.

"I'm sorry. I just took the first room I saw. I don't mindswitching."

"It's fine. I can crash on the livingroomsofa."

Now that I was somewhat accustomed to the sight of his bare abs, I noticed he carried a cold compress inhishand.

"Did you strain your shoulder again?" I asked,concerned.

"It's just a little sore. Ithappens."

He held the compress to his left shoulder. He winced as the motion irritated hisotherarm.

"Need some help?" I asked, surprisingmyself.

August looked equally surprised. He recovered and sat on the side of the bed next to me, feet flat on the floor. I tugged a sheet to my waist, flushing. He watched me carefully as I took the cold compress from him, pressing it against the curve of his shoulderandneck.

"Performing every night must take a toll on your body," I said. "If you're hurt, you should telltheguys."

"It's not a big deal. Just the usual aches and pains." He met my eyes. "Promise me you won't tell them? They'd only worry for noreason."

"If you promise to takeiteasy."

"Sorry, can'tdothat."

"Because you always give one hundred and ten percent to your fans?" Iguessed.

He gave a ruefulchuckle.

"It's partly that. Mostly it's because I don't know how to take it easy when it comes to music. It's all I know. It's all I careabout."

"Have you always beenthatway?"

"I banged on plastic toy xylophones and pounded away on pots before I spoke my first words. My mom and dad…" His lips turned down as he faltered, eyes downcast, before continuing on. "They were musicians. They got me startedearly."

I wondered at that slight pause when he mentioned his parents. Theyweremusicians. Past tense. I didn't know anything about August's personal life. I was struck with the need to know more. I wanted to know everything aboutthisman.

"Did they play rockmusic,too?"

He cracked a smile. "They were folk singers. Old school hippies. Furthest from rock and roll you canimagine."

"How did they react when their beloved son started a rock group full of screeching guitars and screaminglyrics?"

That melancholy expression returned. He turned his head to avoidmyeyes.

"They didn't live to see it. They died in a carcrash."

"I'm sosorry."