47. Jackson
47
jackson
My heart races as Tarah slides her hands under my shirt. Clearing my throat, I try to get my bearings. I’m too drunk for this shit. “Uh, no. No, I don’t want you to be bold. I don’t think my girlfriend would want you to be bold either.”
If I were still at USF, I’d be more of an asshole, but the last thing I want is to turn someone against me—it will only turn them against the band. We need a clean name. We need everyone to love us. What we don’t need is this girl talking shit if she doesn’t like the way I turn her down.
She pulls back so she’s eye level with me again. Running her hands through my hair, she innocently asks. “Are you sure?”
With a tight-lipped smile, I nod. “Yup.”
She shrugs and steps away from me. “Suit yourself.”
“Thanks.” It probably isn’t the right thing to say, and she probably isn’t expecting it to be the end of our conversation, but as soon as I’m free, I abandon my drink at the bar and head back to our booth.
I’m on such a mission to get back to the safety of the guys, that I hardly register Mya until she stops me. “Hey, where are you going? You were supposed to guard her for me.”
Glancing back at the bar, I see the girl has found one of her friends. They’re both looking down at their phones, neither paying us any attention. Turning back to Mya, I say, “Sorry. She uh . . .” I scratch the side of my head. “She might like you, but she likes me, too.”
Mya gasps and glares in the direction of the girl. “That snake. She told me she wanted you to sign something.”
“I mean, she could have.”
Her eyes narrow more. “Yeah, her naked body on your bed.”
I smile at that. She’s probably more pissed on her own behalf than mine, but it still feels good to have her on my side. “Are you coming back to the booth?”
“I don’t know.” She glances at the girl again. “I’m torn between shunning her and still trying to hook up with her.”
“If you see Marty in the bathroom, tell him I said, hey.”
Mya whacks me in the arm with a laugh. “I’m not having sex in the bathroom, asshole. Brian got us all rooms.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you serious?” Looking past her, my eyes land on Brian, still wearing his suit but definitely more drunk than I’ve ever seen him. “What’s going on with him tonight?”
Mya scoffs. “I just hope he stays this way for a little longer.”
Clapping her on the shoulder, I nod toward the table. “I’m heading back.”
“Yeah,” Mya says slowly, her eyes drifting back to Tarah. “I may catch up with you later.” Glancing at me, she shrugs apologetically. “She might be the devil, but she’s a pretty one.”
I shake my head with a laugh before stepping away from her. “Have fun.”
“Oh, I plan to.” She gives me a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows before walking past me, and I don’t bother looking back again. Let Mya be the one to find out how bold she supposedly is.
When I walk back to the table, the guys have clearly gotten another round. Dave is laughing hard enough to make his face pink, Brady’s smile looks too big to fit on his face, and Brian’s button-down is opened to the middle of his chest. Even Marty has finally decided to join the rest of us.
“You guys holding up okay over here?” I ask as I slide into the booth.
“Jackson!” Dave cheers, still laughing. “I fucking love you, man.”
I let out a breath of laughter and look at Brian. “Maybe it’s time to cut him off.”
Brian dismisses Dave with a wave of his hand. “He’s fine, but now that you’re here, I want to share something with you all.” He looks around at each of us to make sure he has our full attention. “We’re going on tour.”
I look over at Dave and Marty for their reactions. Marty furrows his brow. “We are on tour.”
Brian smirks. “Your own tour.”
My eyes widen.
“We’re headlining?” Brady asks, his eyes looking almost as big as mine must be.
Brian nods. “That’s right. It’s been in the works for a while now, but I’ve just finalized everything. Six weeks, twenty stops, and we’re getting a fucking bus.”
Whoops and hollers erupt from the table. The guys are grabbing and shaking my shoulders, but all I can do is replay Brian’s words in my head. Is this really happening? Am I actually going to play guitar for a headlining band? On stage multiple nights a week with a tour bus to call home?
The grin that takes over my face is infectious. I can feel it spreading throughout my entire body. In a matter of seconds, I’m laughing and cheering along with them .
“When is this happening?” Marty asks, but he’s bouncing in his seat. I have a feeling Brian could tell him tomorrow, and he’d be ready.
Brian grimaces, but it’s brief. “You may have to tell your families the holidays will be quick this year. Instead of being home for a couple of weeks, you’ve got a couple of days.”
Brady leans forward on the table. “Our current tour will finish up in the Midwest, right? Where’s the next one start?”
“California.”
Brady blinks. “Shit. It may not be worth going home at all. What’s six more weeks?”
Marty crosses his arms. “Hell, my family isn’t on speaking terms with me anyway. I’ll stay and help prep.”
“Look, I know this is last minute. I had most of these cities set for a few weeks now, but the last few were giving me a headache trying to book them. I ended up having to tack them on to the beginning of the tour instead of the end, but the important thing is that we got them on the books.”
All the guys agree the short break will be worth it, and I do, too. It wouldn’t matter when the tour was scheduled. I’d be there. There’s only one sobering thought in the back of my mind, and it’s that I know this will disappoint Margot. Hell, it disappoints me—the timing of it, anyway. But I can handle letting myself down a lot better than I can handle letting her down. We’ve been looking forward to spending the holidays together for months, and now all that time we thought we had has dwindled to a couple of days?
She’ll understand.
She always understands.
But that doesn’t mean she won’t be disappointed. That doesn’t mean she won’t be at the apartment alone for part of her winter break because I was supposed to be the one there with her. That doesn’t mean I’m not letting her down.
“How are we supposed to do a toast when you don’t even have a fucking drink?” Brian points to the empty spot on the table in front of me. “Someone, get this man a drink!” he yells to no one in particular.
“Yeah, I left it at the bar.” I look over my shoulder, but my drink is gone. Well, not gone exactly. I find it a moment later in Tarah’s hand. She looks like she might forget she’s holding it soon, though. Her free hand is deep into Mya’s hair while the two make out.
Good for Mya.
Turning back to the guys, I point over my shoulder with my thumb. “I’m pretty sure that’s it.”
Dave leans back to get a better look and chuckles. “We’ll get you a new one.”
Marty cranes his neck to look at the two girls, too. “Think they’d be open to?—”
“No,” I say with a firm shake of my head. Then I think about what he’s actually asking and backpedal. “Well, maybe. But definitely not with you.”
Marty grins. “You never know.”
I roll my eyes and look back at Brian. “Shouldn’t Mya be here for the news?”
He glances past me to his niece with no reaction to what she’s doing. “She already knows.”
“She does?”
Brian huffs a laugh. “I’m impressed she didn’t tell you. I needed her to start designing the new merchandise for the next tour, so I had to fill her in.” He looks around at all of us. “She’ll probably ask you to take new photos soon. Don’t give her shit. Just do it.”
“Who would give her shit about that?” Dave asks as he tosses back the last of his drink.
Brian’s eyes fall on me, but he says nothing.
“I did the pictures last time, didn’t I?”
There’s a slight lift to his lips. “Yeah, and you only cried about it twice. You’re the pretty one. We need you to cooperate.”
“Dave is pretty,” I say as I give a slight nod to the guy next to me.
“Yeah, what the hell? I’m pretty,” Dave chimes in.
Brian sighs. “You’re both pretty.” Brady lets out a bark of laughter, and Brian glares at him before turning back to me. “But you’re younger. Don’t get me wrong, you’re talented. You might even be one of the best guitarists to come out of Florida after Don Felder and Tom Petty, but you’re still the pretty one.”
I stare at him. “You think I’m that good?”
Brian’s lips lift in amusement, but I don’t care. He’s never complimented me like this, and I respect his opinion. “Yes, kid. You’re that good.”
The words knock me right in the chest. Margot has told me I’m good. Matt and Rae have told me I’m good. And the guys in the band hired me, so they obviously don’t think I suck. But no one familiar with the industry has ever dished a compliment as great as the one Brian just did, and my brain doesn’t know how to process it. I’ve never felt this way after someone compliments me. The only thing I can compare it to is what it must feel like when your dad believes in you without a shadow of a doubt. My throat is thick with an emotion I wasn’t prepared to feel.
Luckily someone comes to deliver another round of drinks, and I’m able to mutter a quick, “Thanks,” before downing half the glass with one sip.