12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Laredo
" P laying the bass is too remedial,” I scream at Adam, pacing next to me on the boardwalk. It’s a slam to the instrument that is his brand. His brand, not mine. I’m a lead guitarist, front of the stage, white-hot spotlight, keep-your-eyes-on-me musician. My twin brother, Adam, is happy hiding behind a bass guitar at the back of the stage. “I can’t believe I came all the way to Seaside, and you wanted me to play the bass.”
Adam shakes his head in disbelief, and I already know what he’s going to say. When I returned to the studio from the book signing, he and Ariel were practicing another song from her catalog, a loud, stadium-rocking rock classic made for a talented lead guitarist. Adam is a talented guitarist, but he’s not me. So, when I stepped into the studio, I grabbed the lead guitar and expected him to return to his proper place, the bass. He didn’t.
He was showing out for Ariel, his fawning tipping over the line toward embarrassment. If I were a good wingman, I would have slinked into the dark corner of the studio with the bass and let him have his moment with her. But I didn’t travel all this way to watch him blow it with a woman who could put me back on the musical map. So, I grabbed my Fender and ripped off a complicated solo of the song “The Devil I Know,” the encore song Ariel’s band completes their sold-out concerts with.
Only after seeing the admiration in her eyes at my skills did I retreat to the bass, playing routine, monotonous back beats for the rest of the session.
“You don’t always have to suck the air out of every room. Your world will be fine if you’re not the center of it every second of every day.” Adam’s jaw clenches, and I sense my little stunt may have injured him deeper than I originally suspected.
“My bad. I thought we were here to play music. If you’re looking to hook up with Ariel, let me tell you now, you don’t stand a chance. Stop wasting energy. Come to Driftwood with me tonight. Betty’s friend Olivia will be there, along with a few dozen other women in your league.” My words come out harsh, but it’s my way of protecting the tender heart of my sensitive brother. Ariel is a badass rocker who has been hit on by men since she was a teenager. Men with a lot more skill and presence than Adam.
Her ex was a famous musician who didn’t take kindly to their breakup. Words were exchanged, and Ariel demolished him with a revenge song that wrecked his career and made him afraid to show his face in public for two years. Adam can’t compete with that.
“My league?” He scoffs at my dig. “Is that why Betty is avoiding you like the plague? She’s out of your league.”
I chew on my bottom lip and begin regretting sharing with Adam what is going on with Betty.
“She’s been on the Laredo merry-go-round once. She’s seen it for all it is. Shiny from the outside but empty on the inside. Why are you shocked she wants nothing to do with you?” I know he’s goading me, yet his words sting. Thoughts that have already crossed my mind.
“Or maybe she just needs to be reminded of my greatness.” My empty boast gets swept away by the evening breeze. My reputation is that of the one-and-done kid. But things are feeling different. For the first time, an urge to reconnect is forcing me to chase Betty. A curiosity driving me to see if that unique chemistry lasted longer than festival fling.
The way her body reacts when I brush against her, the way my pulse kicks up just being near her. Something’s there. And I have to find out what.
I’m not ready to move on.
“Grate, you say. That’s what you’re doing to her nerves. Why don’t you leave that woman alone? She’s a nice person, unlike you. Do what you do best—walk away. Stop punishing her.” Adam tips his chin up toward our hotel in the distance. It’s not even eight yet. He’s ready to call it an evening, and my night is just getting started. “We have an early studio slot tomorrow.”
“I can tell time.” I bite back.
He stuffs his hands deep into his back pockets, his shoulders rising. “I know you’re hardheaded and will ignore everything I say, but if you’re going after Betty again, don’t do what you normally do.” I lift my brows, challenging him to complete his thought. “Don’t go through the motions and when your charm isn’t enough and things get tough, you quit. If this is something you want, want it for the right reasons. And put in the work.”
Adam lifts his hands high, palms facing me, in surrender. He doesn’t want a debate. He’s said what he’s said.
I don’t fault him. He’s trying to open my eyes to my ways. A reminder I don’t need, not when the world does a great job of kicking me. My brother means well, and I try to return the favor.
“If you are serious about taking a shot at Ariel, remember, with her, everything is about the music.” His body relaxes, and I have his full attention. “She says she wants to work on a new sound. It’s the reason she claimed she needed us.” He tilts his head, and his gaze lifts in remembrance. “Ask yourself, why are we playing songs from her catalog? This is your chance to step up.” His eyelashes flutter, and it’s like watching a lightbulb go off.
Our gaze connects. “You know what you have to do.” I know I’ve ruined the rest of his night.
“Same to you.” He gives me an appreciative smile, his thoughts already drifting away from this conversation to what he has to do. “Say hi to Betty for me.”
He turns and sprints toward the hotel. I’ve given him instructions on what he should do, yet his words echo in my head. Do what you do best and walk away.
I can’t.
I won’t.