Rock the Band (7 page)

The drums got a few more kicks and then silence took over. “Thank you, Nashville!”

I wiped my face with a white towel and tossed it into the crowd. It landed about fifteen feet into the crowd and instantly the shoving began. It always puzzled me why people would fight over a towel covered in my sweat. 

Riff threw his arm around my neck as I walked off stage. “What’s up, buddy? Want to talk about it?”

Sometimes I hated how he knew when shit was on my mind. Riff had always been the guy in the band I went to when things were on my mind, and I could tell him anything. But it was hard to admit hard to admit to him that I was still having woman problems. I was sure he was sick of hearing this from me by now. 

Finally I shook my head. “Nah, man it’s cool. Just a little off tonight, you know.”

He dropped his arm from around my shoulders. “Okay, but if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, but really, I’m cool.” There was no need to drag him into this mess.

Once he was convinced I was good, he took off. Normally I would’ve said he was off to find his random groupie for the night, but from what I’d heard, Riff seemed to be really into Aubrey and I wondered if he would find a girl for the night. I guess we’d see just how serious he was about Lane’s friend. 

After I fought my way through the fans, I advised Kyle to take a break for the rest of the evening. I needed to talk things over with Lane, preferably alone.

The bus was quiet. The rest of the guys were still out living down the high of being on stage. Sometimes it was tough to work off all of that adrenaline without blowing off a little steam. My go-to relief used to be the arms of random women. But those days were nothing but a distant memory, ones I would love to forget.

“Lane?” I called down the hall. “Are you in here?”

When she didn’t answer, I panicked. Where could she be? Even though I hated myself for thinking it, the first place or person she might’ve been with was Striker. She just yelled at me for not trusting her, and here I was letting crazy images of my worst fear cloud my better judgment.

The foxholes were empty. So far, I didn’t see another soul on this bus. 

The bedroom door was partially closed. With a slightly shaky hand, I pushed it open. There was no sign of her. The bed was still perfectly made, and our luggage was still zipped up tight. 

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. When was I ever going to stop fucking up with this girl?

Behind me, the bus door closed with a thud. I whirled around, and my gaze landed on Lane. Her green eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying since the last moment I had seen her. Without thinking about it, I made a beeline for her. I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and buried my face in her dark curls. She sobbed as she threw her arms around my neck and held onto me just as hard as I held on to her. 

“I’m so sorry, Lane. I trust you—I do—but Striker just gets under my skin. The things he was insinuating about you…It’s him I don’t trust, but I need to learn to trust that you’d knee him square in the balls if he tried shit with you.”

She laughed at my lame attempt to be funny while I apologized. “I’m sorry too. I should always have your side, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. I won’t take the job if bothers you that much.”

I pulled back and cupped her face. “No. Take the job. I’ll try harder to be understanding and trust your judgment.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before I kissed her lips and proceeded to finish making it up to her. 

Chapter 9

After Lane had gone to bed, I had spent the better part of the night searching engagement rings. There were tons of really fancy rings, but for some reason, the simplistic styles spoke to me the most. They were the ones that practically screamed Lane at me. I wanted a very classic two-carat diamond ring set in white gold

First thing in the morning, I called the local jeweler and told him exactly what I wanted, and they assured me they could hook me up. After that, I texted Kyle and told him I would need his help distracting Lane. When he asked why, I answered with the truth. If anyone would understand what it was like to really be in love with someone, it was Kyle.

After he agreed, Lane and I headed out with him for a little shopping. She wanted a new pair of sandals, and I had my mission to somehow covertly buy the ring. Sales people were always eager to please. 

 “It’s nice to feel normal for a change,” Lane said while she sat next to me in the back of the Escalade.

Kyle laughed from the front. “You mean getting chased by hoards of screaming women isn’t normal? After only being here a few weeks, I was starting to believe that was the norm.”

“Hang around Black Falcon long enough, and it definitely does become an everyday occurrence,” she teased.

I rolled my eyes. As much as I didn’t like it, there was truth in their words. It was very difficult to feel normal and not allow the day in and day out fame to rush to my head. When the band took off, I almost felt invincible, like no one could touch me or hurt me. I was on top of the world, and everybody wanted me. 

Well, not the people I really wanted to want me like Lane and my own father. 

My head slunk against the seat. Every time my thoughts focused on my father my spirits always came down. Why didn’t he love me? Was having a dream so wrong that you wished your only son had never been born? 

Well according to my asshole father, the answer was yes. 

The night Lane dumped my ass out on the dock, I was a wreck. I destroyed my room and smashed my guitar. All of it meant nothing without her. She was my world, even back then, and without her, it was a very dark place. Dad had no sympathy for me. In fact, he even voiced how smart Lane had been to get rid of a loser like me before I ruined her life.

That hurt, but the crushing blow came when he said he regretted having me at all. To hear my own parent express pure hatred for me was something I would never forget. Lane had broached the subject of making up with my father for my mother’s sake, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

What did I have to apologize for?

“Hey. You okay?” Lane asked her face etched with concern.

“I’m fine, just tired,” I lied. 

I didn’t want Lane or anybody to know how much not having a relationship with my father bothered me. It was better for people to think I hated him versus being the sad, pathetic sap not even a parent could love.

Kyle parked along the street, just in between the jewelry store and the shoe store. It was nearly the perfect set up. Now the trick was going to be getting in and out of there without Lane getting suspicious or figuring out what I was doing. She hated when I did things that she thought pushed our relationship too fast. She’d kill me if she knew what I was up to already. 

Having this ring would show her I meant business. 

“This is perfect, Kyle. Thanks,” I said.

He flicked his gaze to the review mirror, and he nodded, understanding my secret code. 

I helped Lane out of the SUV, and as if on cue, my cell rang. I peered down at the caller I.D. and frowned. “I have to take this. You guys go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I kissed Lane’s cheek as Kyle led her into the shoe store. As soon as Lane turned her back I swiped my thumb over the end call button and pressed the phone to my ear. It really was a touch of pure genius when I arranged Kyle to call my cell just outside the store. A phone call was a believable diversion to distract Lane long enough without getting her suspicions up. 

Less than thirty seconds later, I stepped inside. The privately owned store was small, but there were amazing looking pieces inside the glass show cases. Each diamond seemed to outshine the next as I made my way down the counter to greet the white haired salesman at the end. 

“Hi.” I cleared my throat. All of the sudden my stomach clenched, and I felt a slight tingle of excitement inside my chest. This was it—the next to last step in getting Lane to agree to marry me. 

“Yeah, hi,” I tried again. “I called earlier about holding a ring for me.”

 The older man’s eyes lit up, and his smiled caused deep crinkle lines around his eyes to form. “Ah, yes, Mr. Falcon. I have that piece right here for you.”

He unlocked the safe behind him with a key that was attached to a bracelet he wore around his wrist. He removed a ring set in a tiny black velvet box and placed it on the glass counter in front of me. As promised, it was the exact ring I had picked out online. The single diamond gleamed against the lights in the shop, and my heart squeezed almost painfully. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. Not so much the ring itself, but what it stood for. 

Instantly, I saw Lane’s face in my mind. What it would look like when she saw it. The way her mouth would move when she said the one tiny word I longed to hear when I gave it to her. Yes. 

This was the ring. It was like it was made just for her, and I wanted to be the man who gave it to her.

“I’ll take it,” I told the man as I ripped my wallet from my back pocket.

He nodded curtly and eagerly took the card from my hand and swiped it nearly immediately, before returning with the card and slip for me to sign. 

My sloppy signature graced the receipt for ten thousand dollars. Granted it wasn’t the typical million dollar ring most stars bought when they got married, but Lane and I weren’t like everyone else. We were just us, plain and simple, a lot like the ring itself. 

“Thank you for your business, Mr. Falcon. I wish the best to you and your love,” the man said as he attempted to place the ring box and paperwork in a bag.

I shook my head. “No bag or paperwork needed.”

The old man shrugged as I slipped the ring box safely into my front pocket before making my way out of the store. 

Twenty minutes later, Lane had picked two new pairs of shoes, and we were on our way back to Big Bertha. We were scheduled to leave for the next city on the tour, which I believed was Atlanta, in about an hour. Proposing on the bus wasn’t ideal, neither was in the back of this vehicle with Kyle right up front, but this ring was burning a hole in my pocket. Plus, I couldn’t wait to see it on her finger. 

I took her left hand into both of mine as she stared off over my right shoulder at the passing building. A cold sweat broke out all over my body. What the hell was wrong with me? I could sing in front of thousands of people without so much as a second thought, but was freaking out over asking my best friend and long-time love to marry me. 

Get it together, Noel!

Lane turned towards me and glanced down at my hands clinging to her. “You okay?”

I nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”

An uneasy laugh came out of her as she studied me intently. 

Shit. My mind was blank. Writing songs about love and loss with her in mind, even with dyslexia, came easy, but phrasing something amazing that would blow her away on the spot was kicking my ass. No words came to mind to describe just how much she meant to me.

She opened her mouth then quickly closed it before digging her phone from her pocket. Her mother’s signature ringtone filled the air. 

“Sorry,” she apologized to me before answering her phone. “Hi, Mom.”

Never had I been so glad for a couple minute reprieve in order to get my nerves together and pound this muddled mess in my brain down into something that made sense.

“What?” Lane’s voice kicked up a couple octaves, and she flinched. “What do you mean broke your leg? Oh my God, Mom! Are you okay?”

I held her hand tighter, but not for the same reason as before. Now, I was worried. Kathy was like a second mother to me, and I was concerned for her well-being.

“Okay, I’m coming down there. As soon as I get back to the bus, I’ll get packed and book a flight.”

Shit. I settled back in the seat. This wasn’t the time to give her the ring. It was best if I waited a couple days until she came back from helping out her mom. 

A couple minutes later we parked next to the bus, and Lane ended her call. “So, Mom took a nasty fall while trying to clear a bird’s nest from the gutter on her house. She broke her right leg in two places and needs surgery.”

“That’s terrible. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, but I will have to go help her for a while. Hopefully, Striker will understand that I won’t be around to consult, and he’ll be okay with working with me via email until Mom’s back on her feet.”

I knitted my brow in confusion. I didn’t like the sound of this. “How long will you be gone?”

Lane frowned, and my stomach dropped. That was the face she got when she was about to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. “I don’t know. I guess as long as it takes to get her back on her feet.”

“Any idea how long that will be?” 

Her frown deepened. “The surgeon she just saw said it would be six to eight weeks of recovery.”

Six to eight weeks? How the fuck would I make it without her that long? 

Shit. 

“I’ll go with you. We’ll leave tonight.” It was the only logical solution I could come up with.

She shook her head. “No, Noel. You can’t. There are a string of shows you’re booked for. Maybe when you get done—”

“No. I can’t be without you.” The thought of not seeing that angel face everyday was a weight that nearly crushed me. 

“You aren’t coming with me.”

I flinched. “You don’t want me there?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then what’s the problem?” She wasn’t making any sense.

“I won’t hold you back from your dream. Finish this tour. I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”

She was right. A lot of people were counting on us. The roadies and production people didn’t get paid if we didn’t play. I couldn’t be selfish in this situation, even though I really, really wanted to. 

“Okay, fine. But can I spend every off day I have with you?”

“I can’t let you spend all that money flying back to see me every spare moment you get.”

“Money isn’t a problem for me, Lane. You know that. All that matters to me is being with you every second I can.”