Tone Deaf(50)

“Not everything in my life has to revolve around the band,” I snap.

“I’m not talking about the band. I’m talking about Ali. I think we all know you’re not healthy for her. Hell, you’re not healthy for any girl.”

I open my mouth, waiting for a retort to come springing out. But there’s only my stunned silence. He’s right. Of course I’m not healthy for her, and of course Arrow is so annoyingly, stupidly right.

But it’s still not enough to make me give her up. “I can change,” I say slowly, finally finding my voice. “I can figure out how to make a relationship work. But I’m not changing the fact that we’re together. So get over it, Arrow. Either that, or get out of here.”

“I already told you I’m not just going to leave you,” Arrow says with a sigh.

“I know.”

He points an accusing finger at me. “Then don’t make me do anything I regret, okay? I’ve already promised that I’ll stand by you for this, but if you hurt that girl or the band, it’s over.”

“What’s over?”

“Everything,” Arrow says. “You walk a fine line between jackass and unredeemable, and if you cross that line, I’m not going to put up with you anymore.”

My eyes widen. Is he actually threatening to ditch? To leave the band, leave our careers, leave me? I glance down at Ali, and for a brief moment, I wonder if she’s worth all of this. Then I shake my head and grit my teeth.

“I understand.”

Arrow gives a short nod. “Good.” With that, he lets out a tired sigh and throws an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders.

There’s a long, awkward silence. Then Killer hesitantly asks, “Does this mean we get to double-date?”

Arrow and I manage to stretch out the silence about three more seconds, as we stare incredulously at Killer. Then Arrow bursts out laughing, and even I can’t help but chuckle a little. Trust Killer to take that away from our conversation. I shake my head at my bandmate, wishing I could be as carefree as he is.

But then who would worry about Ali?





23


ALI


I SPEND MOST of the next day hiding out in the RV’s living area. With all the vehicles back in commission, Tone Deaf’s caravan travels into Albuquerque in the morning and gets settled at the stadium they’ll be performing at. They were supposed to have a rehearsal of the concert yesterday, but thanks to the traveling delays, it didn’t happen.

Which means Jace and other members of the crew have been scrambling around all afternoon, squeezing in a rehearsal and last-minute equipment checks before their concert tonight. The room with the couches is the comfiest spot around, so I hang out in there and just try to keep out of sight and out of the way. I fill the morning by working on Jace’s social media profiles, updating his links and answering a few fan messages. But then I notice a tweet linking to a news article about my disappearance, and I quickly close out of the browser, not even wanting to think about all the people searching for me. I find a blank notebook to distract myself with and spend the afternoon sketching the cityscape outside the window.

Around four o’clock, Jace comes into the RV carrying a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and his guitar in the other. I join him in the kitchen and scarf down a plate of orange chicken and noodles. Jace doesn’t say much, and he only picks at his vegetable stir-fry before he grabs his guitar and starts practicing chords. He’s clearly nervous, which is kind of cute. Here he is, the lead singer of a renowned band, and he still gets stage fright before concerts.

“You should eat more,” I sign, pointing to his plate.

He strums his guitar, his long fingers finding a chord with casual precision. “I’m not hungry.”

“Then you should at least rest before the concert,” I sign. “You look like hell.”

A smirk lifts his lips, although his expression remains haggard and stressed. “How is it that I ended up with the one girl in the world who thinks I look like hell?”

“Because you value honesty in a relationship,” I sign, giving him an overly sweet smile.

He sticks his tongue out at me, but finally puts down the guitar. With a flick of his hand, he gestures for me to follow him as he heads for the living area. “Come on,” he signs. “We could both use a nap.”

“I’ve been resting all day.”

“And it’s clearly given you way too much time to worry about me. I’m fine. I just always get nerves before I perform. But if you really want to make me feel better, come take a nap with me.”

I give a relenting sigh and trail after him into the living area. I pause by the couch, but he grabs my hand and tugs me toward his bedroom. A flare of panic rises in my chest, and I try to calm it by taking a deep breath. I place my hands on my hips and do my best to put on a fierce expression. Jace’s smirk tells me that I fail miserably.

“I’m not having sex with you,” I snap.

He holds up his hands innocently. Then he quickly signs, “I wasn’t expecting you to.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re trying to lead me into your bedroom.”

“I wasn’t going to make you nap on the couch. Believe it or not, I’m a big boy, and sometimes I actually share things. Like my bed.” I give him an accusing look and he chuckles, a mischievous glint showing in his pale eyes. “I can share a bed without having sex.”