Killian threw his hands up. “What are you looking for?”
I pushed aside another stack of clothes on the dresser, and Killian’s eyes zeroed in on a sea-green shirt on top.
“Is that Halo’s shirt?” he said.
Glancing to where he indicated, I shrugged. “Guess so.”
He stooped down, grabbing something from off the floor, and when he stood back up, Halo’s leather wrist wrap dangled from his fingers. “And this?”
“His too.”
“So you guys leave your stuff at each other’s places?”
“No,” I said. “We don’t stay at his place.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” Killian squeezed the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight. “You’re so stupid, V. I’ve told you that, right?”
“And if you say it again, I’ll be tempted to wipe my floors with your face.” I opened the top drawer, and sitting there was the sketch I’d been looking for. “Now we can go.”
I didn’t wait around for him to follow, and I was punching the button for the elevator before he finally caught up. He didn’t say anything more on the walk to the pub, and for that, his face was lucky. I didn’t need him giving me shit about Halo. So he’d left a couple of things over. Big fuckin’ deal. It was probably my fault for stripping him out of his shit so often.
We entered the pub through the back, as we always did, and greeted the guys in the kitchen before stealing away to our usual booth away from everyone. If we’d gone through the front, we’d have been stopped about twenty times, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with drunk people today, fans or not.
After ordering a couple of beers, we got down to business. Since MGA had given the tour the go-ahead, Killian and I had decided to get a head start in designing the stage for what we were calling The Corruption Tour. It would be our biggest tour to date, and that meant a massive setup.
“I know we always do one stage, but what if we did two?” Killian said, pulling out a binder and flipping it open. He also had rough drawings of ideas sketched out, which was the way we’d always worked. Coming together to combine ideas before presenting it to the guys for approval and any tweaks. Slade and Jagger had never held much interest in this side of things, and Halo said he’d like to see what we came up with before adding his two cents.
I flipped one of the pages around to get a good look at it. “So connect the main stage to one out in the audience?”
“Nah, not connected. Takes up too many paying seats.”
“Then how the fuck do we get out there?”
Killian shrugged. “Run. Fly. Whatever.”
With a snort, I looked back down at his drawing, and he showed me what he was thinking for the main stage. Not surprisingly, it fell right in line with what I’d come up with—with one exception.
I shoved my sketch in his direction. “What do you think about this? A play off the band name.”
Killian’s eyes roved over the page, and then he looked up at me. “What is it?”
“It’s a fuckin’ piano, genius.”
He angled his head to the side, like he was trying to see it. “Doesn’t look like one.”
I snatched the paper back. “You’re no artist yourself, asshole. These are wings,” I said, pointing to the sides of the piano. “I figure they could rise, you know, like some massive angel wings, to frame Halo while he’s playing.”
“Ahh,” Killian said, his mouth quirking as he sat back in the booth. “So this is a showstopper piece for Halo.”
“Don’t you think he’d look like a fallen angel sitting there center stage with the right lighting? Maybe some blues, some—” I stopped short at the grin on Killian’s face. “What the fuck are you so smiley about?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
Killian chuckled, taking a long pull of his beer. “Look, I know you’re gonna take this the wrong way, so try not to, but man…you are so far gone over this guy. I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“Jesus Christ—”
“I know you’re gonna try to deny it, but you forget I know you, V. You don’t lose your head over anyone. But Halo? He’s different. He makes you different.”
I let out a low whistle and shook my head. “Is this where we talk about our feelings and shit? ’Cause I have to say, I don’t plan to stick around if it is.”
“It’s obvious you like him. Hell, I think you actually care about him, which, trust me, blows my mind as much as it would yours if you would stop and look at what’s in front of you.”
“All I see in front of me is an asshole who’s gone sappy as shit.”
“Dude…” Killian rubbed his jaw before scooting forward to rest his elbows on the table. “What’s the real issue here, huh? Is it because of what happened with Owen?”