Page 49 of Game Winner
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Funny how you can spot it in others.”
He steps closer until our toes touch and tips his face up at me with all the unyielding obstinacy that kept the music going when we were young and everyone told us we’d never amount to anything. But now threatens to ruin us. “You need to think about how your decisions affect all of us.”
I get in his face. “So do you.”
“I am thinking about the band. How we can move forward.” Layne takes a step back, but if possible, his demeanor reads as even more adamant. “We need to strike while the interest is hot.”
“I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you unilaterally decide for us. And what’s your problem with Ty? Explain that eye roll.”
Layne strolls to the couch and picks up his notebook, turning his back to me as he speaks. “You’re putting some guy you’re dating ahead of the band, who’s been by your side for the past five years. This is our chance for wider exposure.”
“He’s not some guy!” I growl. Okay, maybe it’s more of a scream. I yank on my hair because he is beyond infuriating.
Layne spins to face me, his expression blank. “Maybe we need to find a new drummer.”
“What the fuck, Layne?” Gavin’s question slices sharp as a knife through the air.
Layne keeps his gaze on me. “Your priorities are fucked up and your commitment is lacking.”
I laugh in disbelief. “Because I don’t want to fly to New York without making sure one of my boyfriends is okay?”
“And you missed two practices.”
“Which I let you all know I’d be missing ahead of time.” I throw my hands up. Reasoning with him seems impossible. “In all the years we’ve been together, this band and others, I’ve never missed a practice before.”
“Layne,” Everett’s tone is soft, placating, “you’re the only one who had a problem with that.”
Layne jabs his finger into my chest. “You’re not as focused.”
“And you’ve been amess.” I swat his hand away. “Those guys matter to me. If they’re a part of my life, I’m gonna make them a priority. I won’t apologize for that.”
Layne tucks his hands under his arms, that damn chin of his raised again. “Then maybe we need to go in a different direction.”
“Really?” My legs feel like they’re going to give out on me, but I lock my knees and continue, “You want to cut me out of the band that we started together? Do you honestly think you’ll find another drummer who’s willing to babysit you? Who won’t go out of his head because watching out for you is fucking exhausting.”
Layne wraps his arms around himself, but keeps his chin up. “Well, thank you very fucking much. You think you’re easy to deal with?”
I snort. “Yeah. I do.”
“Guys. Stop.” Everett holds his hand up.
Gavin shoves his way between us. “You both need to cool off.”
Layne pushes past Gavin with a huff. “I’m out of here.”
He stomps up the stairs. The heavy sound of his boots clomps through the living room above our heads, and the front door slams.
“Well, fuck…” I fall onto the couch and drop my head into my hands.
“You can say that again.” Everett drops next to me.
I drag my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what to do with him. What do you think about the concert?”
Gavin shrugs. “I’m not looking forward to spending the money on the flights and hotel. But weighing that against the exposure we’d get… it’s probably worth it.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.” I sigh.
