Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(77)

Nick had switched out from water to beer. “Oops?”

“Yeah, oops. You went well over the midnight curfew for the park, kids.”

Gray looked down at his phone. “Shit, three hours?”

“Yes, three hours.”

No wonder she was still sucking down bottles of water to recover. Margo held a hand over her middle and laughed with everyone.

Poor Simon had dealt with three nights of long shows. By some slice of a miracle he’d still sounded good—well, until the very end.

She looked around, but he was gone. He’d been quiet, but after the shows he tended to be. Not because he was depressed, but lately Simon had turned into a watcher after the main event was over.

Watching everyone, taking everything in. Watching her. Always watching her.

She tried to ignore it. Ignore him. Some nights she had to disappear for her own general well-being. Because when they got into the same sphere, there was too much between them. They required the buffer of the rest of the band. Or she required it.

She just wasn’t sure anymore.

But he was hurting tonight. She could feel it in her bones like she felt a song, like she lived a melody on stage.

She passed the lockers, but the room was empty. Sometimes he escaped to steam his vocal chords. She knew he didn’t want her to know that. Didn’t want anyone to know it.

Everyone was still too euphoric about the success of the tour to notice the little flubs here and there. But she saw the signs. Hell, she knew them better than anyone. Her friend Siobhan was a jazz singer and had been through three bouts of complete vocal rest when she’d toured too hard.

“Margo?”

She jumped. “Geeze.” For someone who habitually wore stilettos, Lila could be surprisingly stealthy. “Don’t sneak up on a girl.”

Lila leaned against the wall in the hallway. “I didn’t realize we were being sneaky.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Is it booty time?”

Margo scrunched her eyes closed. “Really?”

“Am I lying?”

Margo crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “No.”

“About which?”

“I’m not being sneaky and I’m not looking to bag some naked Simon time.”

Lila’s eyebrows shot up. “You have been hanging out with these guys too much. You’re starting to sound like them.”

She straightened. “I do?”

“Yeah, you do.”

“That’s bad.”

“Eh. Depends on your point of view. You smile and laugh a lot more these days.”

“Oh.”

Lila smirked and rolled her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for Simon.” She held up her hand. “Not for what you think.” At her skeptical look, Margo rushed on. “He pushed it tonight and after two long shows, I think he’s…”

Lila stood up straight and her blue eyes went laser-sharp. “He’s what?”

Margo tapped her middle finger to her thumbnail. “His voice cracked.”

“Is that all? That happens all the time with singers.”

“Not Simon.”

“What makes him so special?” Lila asked with a bored look.

“Look, I work with the orchestra and a lot of different vocalists. Simon’s a natural. No training, at least I’m pretty sure no training.”

“Not that I know of.”

“Instinctively, he just finds the right notes to any song. It’s pretty genius, actually.” Margo held up a finger. “If you tell him that, I’ll break the heel off your pink Jimmy Choos.”

“Wow. Don’t hate on my Jimmys.”

“Anyway. He’s definitely straining. He rocked out tonight. Totally rocked out. I’ve never heard his vibrato so well-timed since the first week of the tour.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, it is. But he got a little cocky on stage when they were having so much fun. We all did. I swear my triceps are still crying from all the high speed playing I did tonight.” She rubbed her arm as the ache came to the surface at the mention.

“So, he needs to relax tonight.”

“No. I think he needs more than that.”

“We have a show in Indianapolis tomorrow.”

“Right, but maybe you should let him sit out on interviews tomorrow.”

Lila sighed and pulled out her phone. “I don’t know if I can. The radio stations want him and they have an acoustic set in the park.”

Margo shut her eyes.

“I’m fine, Violin Girl.”

Margo’s shoulders instantly tightened. “Simon, I…”

“I appreciate it. I do. It’s been a big week, but I’ll be fine.” His voice was as rough as sandpaper and he barely spoke above a whisper.

Lila frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I asked Harper to steep me a pot of my tea and I’m going to go back to the bus and sleep.”

“I can shuffle a few things—”

“No. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He swung his gaze to Margo. “I just won’t be talking tonight or tomorrow until the radio show.”

Lila nodded. “Right. Okay. I’m going to…go.”