Chapter Thirty-Three
Cooper
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry I suck,” I say, combing my fingers through my overgrown hair as I reach the foyer of the recording studio. “Things have been so busy late—”
“Yeah, you don’t get to come on FaceTime and think for one second I’m going to let you keep going when you have that on your face.”
I laugh, fingers playing with the ridiculous beard covering my chin. “Dude, this is what happens when I’ve been in the writing cave and then straight into the booth. I swear, at this point, I see less daylight than vampires.”
“It’s definitely…something.”
“What? You saying you don’t like it?” I wiggle my eyebrows, my entire face taking up the screen, as I show it off. “I think it looks distinguished.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.”
Chuckling, I lean against the studio foyer wall. “How have you been? What have you been up to?”
Panning around the bar, he shows me the lights twinkling behind him. “Setting up for Christmas.”
“Wow, that looks really good. I wish I could be ther—”
“Reign.”
My name is a harsh echo in the quiet entryway as I turn to look at Liam, his lips in a flat line as he taps his watch.
“Give me a minute, yeah?” I mutter, wincing when he snarls, jabbing his thumb toward the hallway of the studio before walking away. “Shit, Dec, sorry, I need to go.”
“So do I. You actually caught me at the end of my break,” he says, lips twitching as he watches me through the screen. “I just wanted to see your face when I told you my mom’s pregnant.”
I do a double-take, my eyes bugging out. “Wait, what?”
“Yep. Baby sister coming June next year.”
I freeze for so long, Declan frowns. I shake my head, frustration bubbling in my veins as Liam looks around the corner, hissing my name again. “I hate that I need to go because I’ve got so many questions. Can I call you back later?”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ll text you when I’m home, okay?”
“Reign, now.”
Grimacing, I nod, waving quickly before hanging up and darting toward the studio. I barely make it two steps before my manager’s hand comes out of nowhere, palm up in front of my chest.
“Phone.”
I frown, glancing down at it like I’ve never seen it before. “What? Why?”
His nostrils flare, annoyance coloring his face. “Because you’re distracted, and you have no idea how much this studio costs per hour.” He tips his head toward the door. “Raiders is paying for every minute you’re in there. So focus.”
With a sigh, I place it in his hand, watching as he tucks it into his jacket pocket, standing aside for me to enter the room.
“Good boy,” he says, clapping my shoulder. “Let’s make something worth the money.”