Chapter 36

Axton

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I’m practically dancing in my bunk.

“I’m not,” Carson says on the other end of the phone. “You have two more stops on this tour, then you’re an official member of the Devine Intervention Tour. I mean, if you want it. First show is in Atlanta, so it’s sort of like a coming home extravaganza for you.”

“If I want it? This is the best fucking news! Do you even know how amazing this is?”

“Beyond amazing,” he agrees. “I just didn’t know since a couple months ago you didn’t want to leave Macon.”

He doesn’t even have to say her name for it to hit me in the gut like I’ve been stabbed by a hot poker.

“This is a once in a lifetime chance. There’s no way I can turn down touring with Laci Devine. Didn’t Easton get his start with her?”

“Yep. And she’s selling out at every venue.”

“I need to give you a raise,” I tell him on a laugh.

“You’d have to start paying me first.” He doesn’t sound bitter at all, but it still makes me feel bad.

“Speaking of money. What about a band?”

“She has it covered. I made sure it was part of the contract this time. Nothing will come out of your cut.” He pauses, and I wait him out. There’s always a but, and I know it’s coming. “But there’s another quarter million contract breach, so you need to make sure you’re going to follow this through.”

“Nothing is standing in my way,” I assure him.

We talk a little longer, ironing out plans and figuring out how I’m going to print, sign, and fax the contract back to him.

“Make sure you read it this time,” he urges before hanging up.

My heart pounds. Nothing can spoil my fantastic news. Addi is the first person I think of calling. We haven’t chatted much since before Christmas, but this is something I have to share with her. Looking down at my phone for the time, I calculate the time zone differences. Figuring it’s only nine in the evening back home, I call her, praying that asshole isn’t with her. I opt for a regular call since I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing her if he’s there.

“Hello?” Her sleepy voice fills my ears and my heart swells.

“Did I wake you?” I whisper. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep this early.”

“It’s after ten,” she says.

“I suck at time zones,” I mutter. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yours, too.”

“I have fantastic news,” I tell her, unable to hold it in any longer.

“You’ll be home sooner than you thought?” My heart skips a beat as I realize good news for me means horrible news for her. I remind myself she’s moved on, and as a friend, she’ll be ecstatic about my success.

“I just got picked up for the Devine Intervention Tour.”

She’s silent for a long moment. The rustling of her covers fills my ears before she speaks. “With Laci Devine?”

I hum my confirmation.

“That’s huge for you, Axton. I’m so happy for you.”

She doesn’t sound happy, but I take it in stride since I just woke her up and she may still be processing the information.

“Remember back at Thanksgiving you agreed to come see me, watch me perform? Well, I’m calling that promise in.”

“The semester just started,” she says, beginning to decline.

“It’s one weekend, and it’s in Atlanta.”

I hear more shuffling. “I can probably handle a trip to Atlanta.”

“So you’ll come? I need you there, Addi. This is so important to me.” You’re important to me.

“I don’t see why not. When is it? The baby is due at the end of March, but the doctors think she’ll be here early.”

“I’m sorry, what?” My pulse thunders, and I feel the throb in my neck. My brain tries to do the math from the end of March, but I can’t concentrate enough to think of anything but Marcus putting his hands on her last summer.

“Renee,” she clarifies. “She even married Elijah.”

“Thank fuck,” I mutter.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” I mutter. “I didn’t even know she was expecting.”

“My parents didn’t find out until right before Christmas.”

“Wow.” What else can I say?

“Pretty intense last couple weeks, but they seem to be coming around now.” Another long pause. “I’ve missed your voice.”

I stop myself before asking about Marcus. The pain that conversation would cause isn’t something I want to deal with right now—not when I’m riding the high of the news Carson just placed in my lap.

“Miss you, too. So, Atlanta in two weeks?”

She doesn’t answer right away.

“I can pick you up early on Saturday. I’ll have practice in the afternoon and the show will last until pretty late, but we can grab a hotel room. I’ll have you back in time for church on Sunday.”

“Doesn’t really give us much time to hang out.”

Something in her voice, I don’t know whether it’s the soft tone or hitch when she mentions limited time with me, but I take the chance and offer what I know she’s going to shoot down.

“I can always pick you up Friday after class. We can stay the weekend in Atlanta.”

Silence. Too far, once again.

“That sounds perfect.”

I shake my head, knowing I heard what I wanted to hear and not what she actually said.

“What was that?”

“I think the whole weekend would be perfect. I don’t want to leave before seeing both you and Laci Devine perform. It’ll be super late and the drive back to Macon would be dangerous. So long as there’s sushi involved, I’d love to come.”

“I can totally make sushi happen for you.” Going on tour with Laci and a weekend with my favorite girl? I’m in hog heaven.

“Think you could come to church with me on Sunday? I can leave my car at my parents’ on Friday and you can leave to join the tour from there.”

“Church,” I say, remembering the last time I attended with her. The service wasn’t so bad, but I sweat clean through my t-shirt and button up under her father’s scrutiny. “Church sounds great.”

“I can’t wait,” she says, and I believe her.

“This is going to be the longest two weeks of my life,” I confess.

“For me too,” she agrees. I hear her yawn. “I need to get some sleep. This last semester is going to be brutal and I have an eight a.m. class.”

“Think about me,” I say before going to hang up.

“Always,” she breathes.

I’m still on cloud nine when the curtain to my bunk is pulled back.

“You going to just sit in there or are you going to come out and celebrate with us lowly assholes?” Brock, Brent Johnson’s drummer, smiles wide.

“Fuck yeah.” I jump down from my bunk and join the guys.

We’ve gotten to know each other better this second part of the tour, and even though I’m excited to tour with a bigger act, I know I’ll miss them.

Brock hands me a beer and slaps me on the back as I twist the top off.

“Laci Devine,” he says between sips of his own beer, “she’s one hot piece of ass.”

“She’ll kind of be my boss, dude. I won’t even risk my chance on her tour like that.”

“Your loss.” Brock smiles around the mouth of his beer. “I hear she loves to fuck the new guys into shape.”

“Easton fucked her until he had a headlining tour. You’d be an idiot not to do the same,” Peter chimes in from the small sofa opposite of where Brock and I are sitting at the small table.

“Not interested.”

“Because of that girl back home? That hasn’t stopped you the last month and a half,” Brock points out. “It shouldn’t stop you on the rise to the top either.”

“If Addi ever gave me a real chance, I’d turn down the entire Devine Intervention opportunity and go back home. I’d work at the local hamburger joint and sing in dive bars for the rest of my life.” The guys both chuckle. “Seriously. You just don’t understand. Addi is the ultimate woman. I’d be a fucking idiot to turn her down.”

I started my little tirade to get them off my back, but every word is the truth. Addi is my end game, even if my actions on this last leg of the tour say differently. She may have moved on with Marcus, but I have every intention of convincing her I’d move mountains for her when we spend the weekend together in Atlanta.

“Lovesick,” Brock says, standing and tossing his empty bottle into the overflowing trash. “So, I guess you don’t want to head out tomorrow and tie one on?”

“Celebrate like the single man you are?” Peter adds.

“I think I’ll celebrate right here.”

“Well, if you change your mind when we roll into LA, let us know.” I fist bump Brock before he heads back to his bunk.

“You can only jack off to that girl’s picture so many times, man,” Greg, the band manager, chimes in.

“Worry about your dick and I’ll worry about mine,” I mutter, tossing my bottle in the trash.

“Go back to the depressed, lovesick asshole you were the first tour if you want.” Greg leans back on the small couch and closes his eyes as Peter heads to his bunk, ending the discussion.