Of course, she gets it. I never should have doubted her. Sav will always be on my side. I turn my head so I can see her, and I find her already looking at me.
“Yeah. It is.”
“Well,” she says, a small smirk forming on her lips. “Every person in this band would be fucking hypocrites if we criticized you for it.”
A small, sad laugh bubbles out of me, and I nod. “That’s true.”
She squeezes my hand again. “I love you, Mabes. I’ll back you in any way you need me to, okay? Even if me and Ham have to tussle. I got you.”
I laugh again. “You barely reach Ham’s nipples, Sav.”
She waves me off. “I’ve had self-defense training for years. If I can take down Red, I can take down Wade Hammond. I’ll just blitz attack him while he’s sending a ragey email or bullying a frightened intern.”
Ihaveseen her take down Red, her giant bodyguard of over a decade, so she probably could take on our manager.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll handle my shit.”
“The offer stands.”
“You’re just looking for an excuse to knock Ham on his ass.”
She waggles her brows. “Since I was eighteen, babe. I think I’ve earned the opportunity.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll keep you on standby, then.”
A knock has both our heads turning toward the door.
“Go away,” Sav calls, but the door swings open anyway, and in walks our manager with a giant bouquet of flowers.
“Hey, Ham. You think I could take you in a fight?” she asks before standing and sauntering over to him.
He arches a brow. “You wish, Shaw.”
Hammond hands her the flowers, then calls over his shoulder as he leaves.
“Those aren’t for you. They’re for Rossi. Don’t forget your call time for tonight.”
The door closes behind him, and Sav and I look at each other with wide eyes. I bound off the couch after her just as she clutches the bouquet to her chest and sprints into the attached bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Bitch.
“Savannah, open the door, damn it. Those aren’t for you!”
I bang on the door and jiggle the handle. She’s locked it.
“Open the door, you hoe! Those aren’t for you! Open the door!”
She flings the door open just as I’m trying the handle for the tenth time, and her scowl is murderous. The gorgeous bouquet has been discarded in the sink, and she slaps the card in my hand.
“Say the word, and I’ll order the shit.”
I know even before I read the card that the flowers are from Kat, but nothing could have prepared me for the words she’s written.
I miss you, sweetie.
I’m ready to go public.
Love, me
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