Page 11 of Life After You

“I understand what you are saying Sam, butI need her.” My chest tightens, and I can’t shake the image of Mac from my mind.

No calls.

No texts.

No snaps.

It’s driving me insane. I turn to the guys. Sam leans against a speaker case, his head bowed. Trey has his arms crossed, staring blankly at the floor. Chace, always restless, twirls a drumstick between his fingers, but even he looks deflated.

“So, what are you doing here, man?” Chace asks, his sticks coming to a stop.

“We got like, what, a week till the next performance? Tonight was special. Next time can be for her.” Sam says with a lazy smile.

“Besides, how are the rest of us supposed to get any female attention with your ridiculously attractive, brooding self, flooding ovaries left and right?” Trey adds.

I wrinkle my nose at Trey’s choice of words. “Flooding ovaries? Is that a thing?”

Chace tilts his head. “Is that scientifically possible?”

“It will be when I get to them.” Trey deadpans, holding his hand up for a high five. Unfortunately, he only elicits uncomfortable groans from the rest of us.

“We need a doctor. I don’t think Google will help.” I mutter.

“For the ovaries thing?” Trey asks.

“Dude.”

Sam and Chace have started laughing now. “Stop saying ovaries.”

“No, you adorable idiota, for you and your way with words.”

Trey huffs, slicking back his hair with his heavily tattooed hand. “I think you’re missing the effect I have on women. I am like a magnet.”

“Yeah, one that pushes.” Chace shoots back.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I push and pull.” Trey waggles his eyebrows.

“Fuck, Chace, stop setting him up like that.” I groan.

“He’s quick.” Chace shrugs.

“I heard that about him, yeah.” Sam is in like a flash, wiping the smirk off Trey’s face.

“We talked about this before, you Vin Diesel wannabe.”

“Guys…”

Sam and Trey turn to look at me.

“What are you still doing here, bro? We’re holding down the fort—go get Mac.” Trey’s voice is lighter, but there’s a thread of seriousness woven through it.

“Yeah, we got this. Family first, brother. Always.” Sam’s voice lands like a punch to the gut. A lump rises in my throat as I take in their unwavering support.

Burnt Ashes has always been more than a band. It’s a family forged in Braden’s vision and carried by all of us.

I squeeze Sam’s shoulder in thanks, then turn to Chace. “You gonna be okay with these two?” My voice is barely above a whisper.

He scoffs, twirling his drumstick one last time before tucking it behind his ear. “They haven’t realized they’re into one another yet, but when they hit puberty, we’re gonna be in for hell.”

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