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Stone folded his arms across his chest and tilted his chin. “And what about you?” he asked with renewed interest.
Zane shrugged. “What about me?”
“Any special woman in your life?”
“Hell no.” Zane laughed, giving me an eat shit look. “That’s Jag’s scene. He can play house all he wants. I’m too young for that shit.”
I lifted a brow at him. After the intense eye fucking he and Faith had given each other at the airport when she and Phoebe dropped us off, I felt like the world’s biggest creeper. That dickhead just lied his ass off on national syndicated radio. Something was going on with those two. Regardless of how much it intrigued me, it was a line of questioning I had no intention of encouraging.
“Cheap shot, fuck nuts.” Frowning, I shifted my stare and locked eyes with Stone. “Maybe shredding some strings will improve his sunny disposition.”
Mercifully, Stone threw a hand in the air and chuckled to himself. “Okay, you two. Enough with the ball busting. I see you’ve got your acoustic guitars ready. What are you playing?”
“This is our newest song,” I said, tuning my guitar. “We’d like to thank everyone for their support in pushing this one up the charts—it’s called Seventh Sin.”
The minute Zane’s tatted fingers hit the strings, it was like he’d been injected with a shot of adrenaline. He came to life and lifted an acoustic set to epic rage levels. My voice was rough and raspy from lack of sleep, but it gave the song an edgy quality that worked.
As I held the last note, Zane strummed a final chord. The room remained silent—even Stone made no move to speak. Zane and I exchanged curious glances, each of us not sure what to do next. Finally, Stone flipped a switch on his mic and pointed through the glass wall.
“Brilliant. Fucking brilliant, guys. That proved why everything Lords of Lyre touches turns platinum. Before you go, we thought we’d give everyone out there a chance to ask the burning questions on their minds.” He held up three fingers through the glass and the silver-haired man behind it nodded in acknowledgement. “Yes, we’ll take three questions. So, get on those phones, and the first three callers can ask Julian or Zane anything they want.”
My internal alarm shot to defcon one. From the moment he started talking about Phoebe, I inherently knew he’d try to steer the conversation here. A known shock jock, Stone had a reputation as an asshole, which was why I’d pleaded with Kristina to cancel the whole thing. I had a bad feeling about the trip, but she’d insisted, confident I could keep his probing line of questions on topic.
So much for that.
Stone held a hand over his headphones and squinted one eye. “What? Oh? Well, it looks like we have our first caller.” He pushed two buttons on a board in front of him and wrapped a chubby hand around his microphone. “Hello, Erica from St. Louis, you’re on the air. What’s your question?”
A high-pitched voice that giggled entirely too much broke through my headset and scared the shit out of me. “Oh my god, I’m on the air? Holy shit! Is this really Stone Acer?”
“The one and only, baby…speak.”
“All right, so, my question is for Julian. I’m so in love with you, and they say you never get anything unless you ask, so here goes.” She took an audible breath. “Will you go with me to my senior prom?”
A snicker to my right commanded my attention as Zane’s deep smoker’s voice filled my headset. “Sure he will. As long as he can bring his wi—”
“That’s extremely flattering, Erica,” I interrupted as fast as I could before Zane blew my cover. Since Phoebe had told Faith, I’d decided turnabout was fair play and told Zane we’d gotten married. After we’d landed in Seattle, I’d tucked my ring in my pocket, determined to not give Stone Acer an exclusive. “But since my girlfriend is about to give birth, I don’t think the timing would mesh.” I finished with a chuckle, then shot Zane a glare.
Stone all but danced in his seat as he picked up the second call. “Paul from Lincoln, Nebraska, you’re on the Stone Acer Morning Metal Show, speak.”
“Yeah, Stone. I wanted to ask Zane what kind of guitar he plays and is he loyal to it, or does he rotate them out during shows?”
For the first time since the acoustic set ended, Zane sat up like he gave a shit we were there. “S’up, Paul. Yeah, man, I play an ESP Eclipse loaded with Bareknuckle Aftermaths. She’s my baby so I’m pretty loyal to her. Very rarely do I switch up. When something kicks as much as an ESP, you don’t fuck that up, man. But if I did cheat on my girl, it’d be with a Gibson Les Paul Standard.”
The man behind the glass tapped his watch and held up one finger. I assumed that meant one minute remained in the broadcast. Thank god, because I was done with this shit five minutes ago.
Nodding his head, Stone grabbed his headset. “Lucky last call goes to Frank from Hollywood Hills, California. Bring it, Frank, and make it quick.”
“Congratulations on your impending fatherhood, Julian.” Something in Frank’s voice reached through my chest and wrapped a hand around my spine, forcing me to sit up straight.
“Thank you, Frank. We’re excited.” My body vibrated with warning. I wanted this call over.
“I’ve got a little advice for you. No matter how old your kids get, you’ve got to keep your eye on them.” His voice dropped to a slow cadence, with snarled amusement falling into each word. “Especially those princesses.”
Every hair on my neck stood up, and my hand gripped the table so hard I thought I’d snap it. “Who is this?”
“I’ve got one of those princesses myself. No matter where she runs, I’ve always got my eye on her.”
My stomach clenched. I pounded my fist on the desk and mouthed, “Record this,” to Stone. A deep line etched between Zane’s eyes as he watched my panic set in.
