“I don’t like goodbyes,” she said.
“This is a see you later,” I replied. “You’re coming to visit me.”
I’d been working on convincing her to visit on more than one of our stops, but she’d been firm in her decision. She chose a date right in the middle of the tour to fly out for the night, but that was all I could get from her. I wasn’t giving up, though.
She nodded. “I’m coming to visit you. I can’t wait to see you on stage. I better not have to fight groupies to get to you.”
“Pffft. As if I have groupies. They all flock to Iris.”
Baddie gave me a pat and broke out of my arms. “Don’t want to hear about that.”
I tried to grab her again, but she danced backward, shaking her finger. “You have to go, Adam. Your band is going to hate me if I’m the reason you’re late.”
Giving in, I nodded. “All right. No one’s gonna hate you, though. They’ll thank you for keeping me in line.”
“Go.” She shoved at me, herding me toward her door.
“You really are bad at goodbyes.” My hand on the knob, I scanned her face, trying to lock it in my brain—a silly thing to do since it was already branded there.
“I’m trying to get this one over with so I can start counting down the days until our next hello.”
That hit me square in the chest. “Valid. I’m gonna go. Be good.”
She smiled. “I’d tell you to do the same, but I know you won’t, so I’ll say be safe.”
I ruffled her hair. She smacked my hand away. Then I was gone, already counting down to our next hello.
I climbed onto the tour bus, all eyes on me. I was the last one to arrive—normal for me. The record company had upgraded us from the last bus they’d provided. Then again, TSC had moved up in the food chain since our last tour.
“What do you know? This is the Caddy of tour buses.”
We’d be driving across the US and Canada all summer. I’d done trips like this many, many times over the years, but the vast majority had been in an old, crowded van. We never stopped moving in the beginning. The four of us each had a fire inside us, all sparked for different reasons.
Mine came from loss. If I didn’t make it, how could the loss be worth it?
I’d made it—I was in the process of making itbig—yet I still hadn’t decided if the cost had been too high. I was leaning toward yes, but there were days I couldn’t believe what the hell I’d walked away from.
Correction: what I’d let walk away from me.
“Nice of you to show, Adam.” Iris was at the built-in table, her laptop open, headphones around her neck. “We’ve only been waiting forty-five minutes.”
I threw my backpack down on one of the leather sofas. “I’m not sure I’m talking to you.”
Roddy slapped me on the ass. “None of that. We don’t feud on tour. Save it for when we get back.”
I flopped down beside him, stretching my legs across his lap. “It’s not a feud. Iris has no reason to be pissed at me. I’m the wronged party here.”
He patted my shin. “Gotta get over it, man. I have to be stuck with you two in this tin can, you’re gonna get along. Those are the rules.”
Tin can was a stretch, but I got the point. When you were trapped together, any tension was too much. I should’ve let it go, but I’d come close to losing Baddie, so it wasn’t that easy.
“I apologized,” Iris said dryly. “I don’t have the ability to travel back in time and erase the dumbass shit that came out of my mouth. If I could, I promise you I would. I really don’t know what else to do, so if you could tell me, that would be grand.”
Sighing, I turned to her. She batted her lashes and pressed her hands together in a plea. I groaned. “Fine. It’s done. But that’s gotta be the last time you talk shit to Adelaide.”
She nodded. “It wasn’t intentional. I’m surprised she didn’t know all that about you anyway.”
“Do you tell your friends the details of your sex life?”