Page 7 of Reverb (Larkspur Book 3)

“What do you mean, you’re canceling my booking?” Liam asked, trying not to let his desperation seep into his voice. “I made the booking nearly a month ago, and you’re canceling just hours before its scheduled time.”

“Mr. Jones. I apologize, but Javier has been taken ill and must cancel all his appointments for the foreseeable future.” The smooth tone of the agency owner did little to appease Liam’s frustration.

“I understand. The man can’t help getting sick. I hope it’s nothing too serious?” he asked, feeling guilty at his outburst.

“He has a burst appendix. He was lucky he got to the hospital in time. However, he will not be working for a few weeks, if not months, while he recovers.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. Please send him my best wishes for a speedy recovery.” He paused in his pacing. “And there’s no one else you can send in his place?”

“No, not tonight. I’ve had to reassign many of Javier’s regular customers, and I was already short-staffed before he took ill. I may have an opening in a week. Would you like me to book you in for that?”

Liam bit back the sharp retort that sprang to his lips. He couldn’t get angry at Celine. “No, unfortunately. I’ll be back on tour by then.”

“Oh. Of course. Would you like me to see if any of my colleagues can accommodate you?” she asked solicitously.

Liam considered her question, but already knew his answer. Celine ran a very discreet, high-end escort agency. All her staff signed non-disclosure agreements and were vetted better than any FBI agent entering the academy. He could take her up on her offer, but he trusted Javier, and anyone else would be just like the anonymous hook ups he had when he was on the road. He didn’t have the time or patience to train them in what he liked.

With a sigh, he replied to Celine. “Thank you, but no. I… I’ll wait for Javier to return to the roster. Please let me know when he is taking bookings again.”

“Of course, Mr. Jones. I really am very sorry about this. Thank you for being so understanding.”

Liam hung up his phone and sank onto the couch. He’d returned home yesterday, feeling even more out of sorts. Their performance in Denver had been less than stellar. Thankfully, the fans hadn’t noticed. Seth had been distracted, and Liam had been counting down the hours until he could leave. He’d said a brief goodbye to Jamie and Kellet before they took off back to Juniper and made his escape.

The quiet peace of his Cold Water Canyon home and sleeping in his own bed without having to set an alarm had been bliss. He’d spent the day doing laundry and catching up on chores, all while counting down to seeing Javier. His stress levels had reduced slightly, the anticipation of Javier’s visit humming under his skin.

Now, that humming was replaced with the familiar itch. Looked like it was going to be porn and his favorite dildo doing the honors instead.

“Fuck!” The shouted curse echoed through the room. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he took a few deep breaths. He was fine. He just needed to relax. He didn’t need sex as a stress relief. He briefly thought of the unopened bottle of bourbon sitting in his cupboard but pushed that thought away. He wasn’t a big drinker and hated drinking alone.

Maybe he could call Seth, and they could hit a couple of clubs in the city. He dismissed the idea as soon as he thought about it. As much as he loved his bandmate, he couldn’t cope with Seth’s exuberance this week.

Slumping back on the sofa, his gaze catching a framed picture of Larkspur at some awards show the previous year. They were all grinning, holding their trophies for best album. His eyes lingered on Mark. He really missed their former drummer. They’d been pretty tight, both preferring to hang out at the hotel or on the tour bus, rather than out clubbing and partying like Jamie and Seth liked to do.

From Mark’s grin in the photograph, you would never have known he was uncomfortable. His wide smile detracting from the tight, almost white-knuckle grip he had on the cylindrical trophy. For the umpteenth time, Liam sent a silent apology to his friend.

The chime of his phone pulled him from his reverie. He picked it up from the table, opening the security app to see who was at his gate. He groaned when he saw Miles staring into the lens. Of course. Could this day get any worse?

“Hey, Miles. Come on up,” he said, thumbing the button to open the gate. He was grateful that Miles hadn’t just sailed in. He knew the gate code, all the guys did, but Miles was respectful of their privacy and didn’t let himself in unless it was a pre-arranged visit. Unlike today.

Liam stood and shook his body out, trying to release the tension in his body. He’d see whatever Miles wanted and then figure out what he was going to do.

***

Miles absently clicked the key fob in his hand, locking up his Mercedes as he made his way up the steps towards Liam’s front door. Before he could knock, the large wooden door swung open, and Liam met him with a warm smile.

“Miles,” Liam greeted him as he stepped back to let Miles in. After closing the door, he turned and headed down the short hallway to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Do you want a drink?”

“Bit early for a drink, isn’t it?” Miles responded as he followed.

“It’s almost five o’clock. Surely that’s got to count for something?”

“It would, if I wasn’t still working,” Miles told him, coming to a stop at the kitchen island.

“All work and no play makes Miles a workaholic,” Liam told him with a grin.

Something inside Miles relaxed at the sight. It wasn’t Liam’s totally natural smile, but it was certainly a lot less forced than the ones Liam had been giving over the last few weeks.

“What have you been up to?” he asked, accepting the bottle of water Liam offered him from the fridge. He wasn’t surprised when Liam opened his own bottle of water. He knew the bass guitarist rarely drank, and that the offer for a drink had been purely good manners.

“Just sleeping and laundry. All the fun, glamorous rockstar things.” Liam motioned them over to the seating area, and Miles sank gratefully into one of the overstuffed armchairs. Liam did the same, stretching his long, denim-clad legs out in front of him.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Miles asked him. A flicker of something flashed across Liam’s features before being quickly masked behind a smile and a shake of his head.

“Not unless you count Netflix and pizza.”

“God, I’d love an evening of just Netflix and pizza,” Miles said longingly.

“You’re more than welcome to join me, but I assure you, I’ll probably be asleep within ten minutes of whatever movie I pick to watch.”

“Thanks, but I have a band to look at. That’s why I called in. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

Liam’s brow raised in surprise before he dropped his gaze to the water bottle in his hand. His long, nimble fingers twisted and untwisted the lid. Miles frowned at the fidgeting. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked Liam, or any of the other members of Larkspur, to join him in critiquing an artist. Normally, Liam was one of the first to say yes, but he looked as though he was being asked to make a life-or-death decision.

“No problem if you don’t want to,” Miles said. “Just thought you might like to come. They remind me a bit of you guys when I first signed you.”

“Um. Yeah. Sure.” Liam raised his head and gave Miles a weak smile. “I’ve got noth… nothing else planned, so yeah, why not?”

“Are you sure? It’s okay if you want to stay home and chill.” Miles gave a rueful laugh. “God knows I would if I could.”

“Why aren’t you delegating this to someone?”

“They’re only in LA tonight, so if I don’t want to go to New York to see them, tonight’s my only chance.”

“Where are they playing?” Liam asked.

“At The Bamboo Club, downtown.”

Liam gave an impressed nod. “They must be decent if they’re playing there.”

“Actually, they’re filling in for another act that has pulled out because of illness, but yes, from the clips I’ve seen online, they’re good. Raw and unpolished, but good.”

At Miles’s words, that flicker crossed Liam’s face again. He decided not to question it, though. He was hoping a night out with no pressure other than listening to a new band might make Liam open up a little about why he was so stressed.

“What time are they on?”

“Not until nine. I was thinking you could pack a bag and come back with me to the city, and we can go from my place. You can crash there for the night, rather than trekking all the way back out here afterwards.”

Liam took a moment to mull it over before nodding. “That’s a good plan. You okay waiting while I throw some stuff in a bag?”

“Take all the time you need,” Miles agreed.

Liam put his water bottle on the small glass coffee table before rubbing his hands down his thighs. He stood abruptly and, saying nothing further, strode from the room.

Miles watched him go, more questions than ever swirling in his brain. He’d had to call over to Jamie’s place to drop off some paperwork for Kellet to sign when they returned from Juniper, and decided to call in and see how Liam was doing. Initially, Liam seemed relaxed, but after talking, Miles noticed he was still on edge. Hopefully, tonight, he might get Liam to relax a little and open up to him.