Chapter 2
Hunter Adkins
Los Angeles, CA
Four hours earlier
Nothing could compare to today.
Today I was auditioning to be the drummer for the Long Licks, replacing the irreplaceable Gio Barone. He’d long been an idol of mine. His death had hit me especially hard. And the thought of being the one holding the sticks and playing his beats was making me feel nauseous.
How was this my life?
“They’re ready to see you,” Danny Conlan’s assistant, E-something—shit I should’ve remembered that—popped his head into the sleek waiting room I’d been quietly panicking in.
I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans and jumped to my feet, my heart pounding just as hard as the beat in ‘Shameless.’ Who knew memorizing their songs when I was a teen could’ve potentially paid off like this?
Shit, I was getting ahead of myself. I still had to meet the guys and play first.
I crossed the room and stepped through the door Evan—maybe?—held for me.
He tipped his head toward the hall. “Third door on the left. I’d walk you, but I have a sudden fire to put out.”
“Ethan, man, come on!” Beau Benoit, the band’s bassist, hollered after he’d ripped open the closest door and all of his size, wild hair, and manic eyes skipped past me to land on the guy standing next to me.
“Do you even know what a fucking emergency means? I gotta be there like yesterday. Fucking move, man.”
“Right away, Mr. Benoit.” Ethan—my guess had been close—gave me an apologetic smile before hustling after the irate musician who’d stomped back into the office beyond.
Beau didn’t even give me a second look.
I’d been nervous before, but now I was anxious as fuck.
My heartbeat thundering in my ears, I approached the door Ethan had indicated and pushed it open before my brain could catch up to my body.
Danny Conlan stood just beyond the door, hunched over his phone.
Ryker O’Keeffe and Malcolm Holt were sprawled out on a leather sofa to my right, looking all relaxed if not outright bored.
Leif Eccles stood opposite me with his arms crossed over his chest, a snarl curling his lips as he argued with Malcolm.
“I still don’t see the problem.” Leif sneered. “We’re both consenting adults. And she doesn’t even live here, so it’s not like it’s in your face all the fucking time.”
“She’s here enough,” Malcolm tossed back. “Stop sleeping with my wife’s friends. It makes my life awkward as fuck.”
“Yeah.” Ryker laughed. “Let Mal fuck up his marriage all on his own.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.” Mal snarled.
Ryker grinned back totally unabashed. “No problem.”
“Uh,” I cleared my throat. “Ethan said you were ready for me?” I don’t know why it came out as a question. I was thirty-six. Had played with a debatably successful band. Came up from the trenches like everyone in this room. But still, I didn’t feel like I belonged.
And that somehow they’d all know it in a few minutes too.
“Hunter!” Danny shoved his phone in his suit pocket then turned to give me a handshake and back slap. “Thanks for agreeing to play with the guys.”
“Playing with?” Leif’s raised eyebrows and lip snarl weren’t exactly welcoming.
“I think he meant trying out with.” I tipped my head at Leif, then turned to do the same to the guys on the couch. “Nice to meet you all. I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s an honor. I’ve been listening to your music since the beginning. It’s, I’m…yeah. I’m nervous as fuck.”
Leif’s snarl softened to a smirk. He tipped his jaw at me. “No pressure. We just want to hear what you’ve got.”
“Fuck off.” Malcolm walked over to me with his hand out for a shake.
His hair was tied back in a man-bun, and somehow he was making a long-sleeved white sweater work with shorts.
“Don’t let the diva over there get in your head.
He’s so full of shit his eyes are now a lovely shade of brown.
They were actually green before our first record deal. ”
I laughed, and my shoulders relaxed a little with Malcolm’s joke. Or maybe because of his whole laidback surfer personality. He was all calm and chill—the opposite of Leif. “Nice to meet you, Malcolm. Like I said, I’m a huge fan.”
“It’s Mal. We’re all just musicians here—band geeks really.” Malcolm laughed. “Although Leif did spend time in drama club, which is where his flair for the dramatic comes from.”
Ryker prowled toward me in a black tank top and ripped up jeans.
“Nah. He’s always been a diva. Drama class just freed the asshole within.
Ryker.” He held out his hand. His whole arm—both arms actually—were covered in tattoos, and yet he had a slight smile that put me at ease despite his whole tough guy demeanor.
“Oh, I know.” I shook his hand and after a beat, I winced. “About your name. Not about…” I trailed off awkwardly.
But Leif, charming fellow that he was, finished for me. “My diva asshole personality?”
His eyebrows went up, and I swallowed hard. Fuck, he was intimidating—all black clothes, angry stares, and chin-length blond hair. A vampire! That was what he reminded me of. All soul sucking and creepy.
Yeah, I needed to stop watching stupid shit the night before literally the biggest day of my life.
“Right,” Danny, their manager, cut in with a hard smile. “Now that all the pleasantries are over, let’s get this show on the road. You ready, kid?”
I lifted my chin, my eyes never leaving Leif’s. If he could be an ass, so could I. I’d never been one to back down from a challenge. “Ready and fucking eager.”
I might puke.
Leif smiled wolfishly. “No pressure.”
“Stop being an asshole, dickhead.” Mal rounded the couch, slugging Leif in the stomach on his way.
Leif didn’t even flinch. But then maybe that was what happened when you didn’t have a soul.
Pulling a pair of sticks from my back pocket, I crossed to where a bunch of instruments were set up on the far end. What I would’ve given to set up my own kit, but I was the last one to be making demands here.
When I sat on the stool behind the drumkit, that feeling of normal came over me and relaxed my tense shoulders. Tapping my sticks over the skins, I adjusted a few things for my reach.
Yeah, I had this.
One stick absent-mindedly tapped a rhythm that’d been haunting me lately. I raised my eyebrows at the guys standing around me. “Anything in particular you want me to play?”
“Whatever you think shows us who—” Mal started when Leif cut him off.
“’Not Gonna Forget,’” Leif tossed out the name of one of their deep cut songs—one that had never been a single.
Mal groaned.
“Ass,” Ryker muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Do you even want a new drummer?” Danny asked with a frown. “Are you sabotaging the auditions on—”
He cut himself off as I started the opening beat of ‘Not Gonna Forget.’ I’d memorized every song on their first few albums. But I would’ve been screwed if they asked for something more recent.
“Shit.” Mal grinned. “I don’t even remember this song. I can’t even jam with him. And I really fucking want to.”
I kept playing, trying and failing to keep the smirk off my face.
Leif raised a hand. “Okay, but can he read music?”
I scoffed. “If you’d asked for one of your more recent songs, you’d find out—I only know ‘Infamous’ from your latest album. I’ve been a little busy with my own band to fuck around too much.”
Leif squinted at me then turned to Danny. “Get the sheet music for ‘Don’t Tell Me.’”
I trailed off playing as Mal groaned.
“I don’t even really remember than one,” Ryker muttered, rubbing his forehead. “Can you get my sheet music for it too, Danny?”
Danny rocked back on his heels. “You guys know that Ethan is busy with Beau’s shit, right? I don’t have my assistant to run and fetch for you all right now.”
“I thought that was what we had you for?” Leif returned, completely serious.
My eyes widened at the looks they exchanged. Leif, all smug and arrogant while Danny was no doubt planning where and when to bury Leif’s body. He wasn’t someone I would ever fuck with.
“How about we play ‘Infamous’?” Ryker asked, his gaze bouncing between the two suits facing off. “The kid said he knows that one.”
This was probably a bad time to remind them I was thirty-six. They weren’t that much older than me. But a smart man knew when to keep his mouth shut.
“I’m up for whatever,” I tossed out as I twirled one of my sticks between my fingers. “I wasn’t shitting you that I can read music. But we can play whatever you all want. I’m easy.” I was trying to be. It was hard to relax with all the tension in the air.
And it reminded me too much of my childhood. I barely suppressed a shudder.
“’Infamous’ it is.” Danny lifted his chin at me before sliding his clearly unimpressed gaze to Leif.
“Sure.” I shrugged.
Ryker and Mal exchanged wide-eyed expressions then walked to their instruments. Leif continued glaring at Danny. After a long minute, he huffed and stomped over to his position.
I thought I heard Danny mutter something about children.
“Count us out, kid,” Leif growled.
After uneasily clearing my throat, I lifted my sticks and counted out a four beat.
The guys joined in, and I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I described it as magical. Even if I didn’t get the gig, this was an epic moment—bucket list kind of thing. I grinned behind the drums like a kid getting his biggest wish ever granted. And honestly, it kinda felt like that.
I didn’t need the stadium of the thousands of screaming fans. This right here was everything to me.
Childhood dream achieved.
I couldn’t see any of their faces, since they all stood in front of me. And the sound wasn’t exactly perfect since we were missing the bass guitar with Beau’s absence. But I grinned the whole time.
When the song came to a close, the three guys exchanged looks but didn’t say anything.
Finally, Leif turned around and shoved his hands in the back pockets of his black pants. “Remind me again why your band broke up. You all had a hit, right?”
I ground my teeth together for a second. There was seriously no winning with this asshole. “Yeah. We hit the top of the charts with ‘Alibi’. Shit fell apart less than six months later because Gabe slept with Nate’s wife.”
Mal made a choking sound before clearing his throat. “And Gabe is…?”
“Our lead singer.”
Mal exchanged a look with Ryker and a second later they were both giggling like little boys. “Fucking typical.”
I clutched my drumsticks. As far as I could see, nothing was funny about what had happened with my band.
We went from the top of the charts to restraining orders, criminal charges, and lost livelihoods.
Pretty sure Gabe had surgery to fix what Nate had done to his face.
Meanwhile, the rest of us had been screwed. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?”
“Sorry,” Mal mumbled as he wiped his eyes. “Just that I’ve been after this asshole”—he jerked his thumb in Leif’s direction—“for screwing around with my wife’s friend. He’s made shit so fucking awkward at home. I was literally tearing into him for it before you walked in this morning.”
“Ah.” I nodded slightly like I knew what the fuck was going on. “Are we playing more? Maybe something slower?”
“I think we have everything we need.” Danny exchanged looks with the rest of the guys, who nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, thanks for the opportunity. I had fun.” My eyes slid to Leif. “Mostly.”
Standing up, I slid my sticks in my back pocket and crossed over to shake the guys’ hands. Leif, of course, tightened his grip to a punishing level. But I was no pussy, I squeezed back just as firmly and gave him an insincere smile. “It’s been an experience. Thanks again.”
“Yeah, same, kid. Thanks for coming out.”
That sounded like a thanks but no thanks.
Fuck.
I’d been so fucking hopeful. This had come at the perfect time. My band just broke up, and the Licks just lost their drummer. It’d felt like kismet.
How fucking wrong I’d been.