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He waves his hand toward my guitar. "Obviously. It's beautiful just the way you've performed it. You don't need us two standing in the background for scenery."
"That's not…" I fidget, not sure which of the brothers to address. "It's the first time I'll be performing the song in public. I need you guys with me. I can concentrate on the vocals, and you can play the guitar."
"Which one of us?" Laredo asks and doesn't wait for an answer. "There's no bass. And before you tell me both of us can play synchronized lead, I'll remind you that the show is tomorrow, not next week."
I try to read his tone. It's not aggressive or angry, but it carries something foreign. A different side of him. He's been different all day. Much quieter, more to himself and on time. "I can't go on the stage alone," I mutter.
"You take it, Laredo. You did the revisions to the song." Adam does what I expect him to do. He falls on his sword for his brother.
"No," I whisper.
"It should be you. It's your damn song." Laredo's words fill with an empathy I don't associate with him.
"No," I say louder. "It has to be both of you. I won't choose." This can't be happening. Not this soon. I want to hide in this festival bubble longer. It's bad enough I'll have to pick one of them to replace Manuel.
"Good, because you don't have to. I withdraw." Adam doubles down, and my lips part. "Before you go all rock goddess on me, it's not because I think Laredo will do a better job than me." He winks at me, already reading my thoughts. "It's because I want what's best for everyone." His eyes flick toward his brother for a short instance, and my heart flutters. He wants this for his brother.
I gulp and prepare for the verbal sexual innuendos Laredo will toss my way with this victory. He and I on stage together. Even with me hooking up with his brother, I fear his social media post will hint at something between us. Anything in the name of clicks.
"Congrats, Laredo. It's you and me." I extend a victory handshake in his direction.
He crosses his arms against his chest and stares at my hand as if it might hurt him. "You're on your own, kid." The line isn't delivered with a smirk or even the hint of humor. When I don't react, he shakes his head. "I can't believe we have to say it, to you of all people. But you got this."
"But…" I'm fighting a losing battle. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of this. Adam wasn't supposed to write me a beautiful song with a new sound. The workshop should have been for the boys trying to perform a song from the band's catalog. It was never supposed to be me on stage by myself. I don't do by myself.
"We got your back," Adam says the words the way Dax has told me a thousand times. He wraps me in a reverse bear hug the way Manuel does after he's nailed a difficult bridge.
"We're not going anywhere," Laredo states, and I see Santiago's bright smile beaming up at me when I rush late to the tour bus to find everyone waiting.
They're here. All of them.
"I guess I'm doing my first solo performance."
It's been fifteen years since I've performed without my band behind me. The song is already an emotional, raw song unlike anything I've ever performed before. Now, I have to do this in front of an audience of industry professionals without my band behind me.
My thumb rubs circles deep into my palm, and I tell myself to breathe.
Adam takes my hand and doesn't say a word. Our eyes connect for three heartbeats, and I feel the anxiety tampering down. He's my calm. And he's here, and he's not going anywhere.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Adam
My fingers type out another urgent text to Laredo, the fifth one I've sent in the last three hours. After the rehearsal, Laredo disappeared while we packed up the equipment. We never got to finish our conversation, and now he's not returning my text.
Rather, he's not responding to any of my follow-up texts. His one reply doing nothing for my rising anxiety.
Laredo: stuff to take care of, see u tomorrow.
"Still no response?" Ariel's soft voice floats over my shoulder, followed by her arm wrapping around me, a soft kiss pressed to the back of my neck. The steady slapping of waves against the side of the small boat Ariel chartered for the evening provides a calm I need.
"Nothing."
"I wouldn't worry. It's probably normal behavior for him." I appreciate the gesture, and under normal conditions, she'd be right. But he wasn't acting normal. And the way he looked when he mentioned Betty's name. I've not seen that look before.
"Yeah, you're right." I pivot. There's not much I can do until he responds. We're floating a quarter mile from the shore.
