“Did you see the tits on—”
A rough throat clears, cutting off Linc’s crude assessment. We all look over to see our waiter has arrived.
“What can I get you?” he asks flatly, looking like he’d rather be just about anywhere else on the planet than here serving us.
“Let’s pop a bottle, shall we?” Linc asks, looking hopeful.
“It’s ten in the morning,” Aiden points out.
“And that’s a problem because…?”
Aiden just shakes his head.
“Ry? How ‘bout you?”
“I don’t drink,” I remind him absently, scanning my menu for food options as my stomach growls.
“Yeah, I know. I figured you’d loosen the reins, now that we’re out on the road.” Linc sighs. “Isn’t the point of going on tour to finally live like a star?”
“Actually, the point of a tour is themusic.” Aiden’s voice drops to a serious tone. “You want to live the party lifestyle, you might as well go back to playing with Lacey.”
Linc hisses at the thought. “Christ, you two are buzz-kills.”
The waiter clears his throat again, with far less patience.
“We’ll take a round of orange juice,” I tell him. “And I’ll get the southwestern omelette. Extra hash browns and a side of bacon.”
“I’ll have the same,” Linc says. “But please, for the love of god, dump a half-bottle of champagne into my juice. Someone around here needs to commemorate this godforsaken moment.”
I shake my head at his melodramatics. Aiden orders blueberry pancakes, the waiter disappears to assist his other tables, and we plunge into uneasy silence.
“So, is this what it’s gonna be like, from now on?” Lincoln sounds like he’s in one of his moods — I sense a tantrum coming on. The look Aiden shoots me from across the table suggests his thoughts are on a similar plane.
Great.
I grit my teeth. “What are you talking about, Linc?”
“You! The two wet-blankets I used to call friends.”
“Wet blankets? Because we won’t start drinking during breakfast?” My brow furrows. “You’re unbelievable.”
“No!No.” Linc blows out a breath. “It’s not about the drinking. I don’t give a shit if you party or not. You want to stay sober, that’s your prerogative, man.”
“Then what the fuck is this about?”
His words turn fervent. “This is something we always dreamed of doing, isn’t it? Since we were, what, eighteen-year-old kids playing dives in Nashville?Life on the road! The tour buses, the hotels… a new city every week, a new girl every night… The three of us taking on the world together.” The light in his eyes dims a shade. “That was the dream. We got so close last time, so fucking close… and then it all fell apart.”
“Linc—”
“No, Ryder. You don’t understand what it was like when you went into rehab, then disappeared on your surfing spirit-quest. Aiden knows, because he was right there with me, elbow deep in the shit.” His nostrils flare. “Over a year of working as a damn waiter between gigs, before we finally landed that spot playing for Lacey, of all people. Andplayingis a generous term for what we did. That crap wasn’t music.”
“I get it,” I murmur. “Linc, I really do. Trust me, the past two years weren’t exactly a walk in the park for me either.”
“I know that.” His throat works as he swallows hard. “But that’s why I want us to enjoy this. We have to seize this moment, because they don’t come around all that often. And if Felicity walks away after this tour, like she claims… it’s also theonlymoment we’re gonna get. The only time we’ll ever beWildwood.” His voice drops to an uncharacteristically serious tone. “Every second is limited. Forgive me for being a fucking sap, but I just… I want to do it right. Okay? I want to enjoy it before it slips away.”
Aiden sighs deeply. “Linc, it’s only our second day.”
“Exactly. This should be the fun part, before we’re run down and sleep-deprived. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. Instead you’re both sulking.”