Page 46 of The Drummer

Well, damn.

I shove a forkful of eggs in my mouth to stay cool.

“You sleep okay?” I ask.

After another short silence, she seems to warm up to the idea of post-party breakfast. I have to remember this isn’t her normal.

She lifts the lid on the first dish to inspect its offerings. “I think so. You?”

I wash down the bite with coffee. “I guess. What’d you think of the movie?”

Her sardonic look and eye-roll is worth the price of admission.

But the amusement fades too quickly.

“Have you checked on Luke yet?” She shoots an anxious glance toward the hall.

Ah. Right. The real reason she’s here.

“Yeah. He’s fine. He’s awake, actually. Working up the energy for a shower.”

“Good. Thanks. I should have done that before my own. Sorry.”

Her words grate on me, and I focus on my plate to temper the rising irritation. Not at her, just… I can’t stand the thought of her going down the same road I have to travel. She deserves so much better than that.

“You’re not his mother or his nurse,” I say. “Your life doesn’t have to revolve around taking care of him.”

“Says the guy who literally had to wash his puke off last night.”

I cringe inwardly and manage a wry smirk. “You know what I mean. I think it’s great that you’re looking out for him, but you can’t be consumed by it. You can’t let it define you or you’ll start to internalize his issues and judge yourself for things you can’t control.”

Please don’t become the villain of your own story too.

She’s way too special for that.

“You’ve been there,” she says quietly.

I snap a look at her, annoyed I revealed so much. “There’s only so much you can do, Callie. You can’t force someone to heal no matter how much you care about them. Not if they don’t want to.”

She averts her eyes, and I’m afraid I screwed up again.

For all my years with Luke and celebrity life, I still don’t know how to navigate this. I feel just as lost as the first time I returned to our room to find my best friend unconscious from going too far in his attempt to silence his demons.

Years later, we’ve only gone backward, it seems.

Something about this time feels different, though. From themoment I saw Luke last week, I felt it in the air. There’s a finality that wasn’t there before. A resignation that makes my stomach churn and keeps a constant chill running through my veins.

Something is very wrong, but that’s not the only difference.

There’s also a chance I won’t have to be alone in my quest to drag him back to the shore this time.

I don’t want to scare her, but the thought of Callie leaving scaredmethis morning. I can’t do this on my own, and neither can she. We don’t have the luxury of taking things slow.

“Hey, so hear me out,” I say, watching her closely. “We wrapped up our tour last week and I was thinking of crashing here for a while and seeing what we can do about Luke. Maybe between the two of us we can make some progress?”

Her expression fans through varying states of shock, and I pray I didn’t just blow things up before they even began. It’s not just my life on the line for this one.

After a long pause, she shifts on her stool. I hold my breath, waiting for the verdict.

---