American Love Songs (15 page)

He was just thinking of how best to broach the subject of what to do
now
when Parker pulled away again, and Jake let him, running his hands up and down Parkers back soothingly, needing to touch. “Parker,” he said again, his voice sounding unbelievably wrecked to his own ears.

Parker dropped his head on Jakes shoulder again, and his body sagged. As foggy with beer and smoke and lust as Jake was, it took him a minute to realize that Parker had passed out.
³²

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing his head back against the couch as the enormity of what had just happened caught up with him. “Double fuck.” He was not allowed to make out with Parker in the tour bus. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Parker was Jakes best friend and that meant he was Off Limits. Furthermore, he obviously had some kind of intimacy issues if Jake had never even seen him
flirt
with anyone before, or maybe he had some
other
kind of issue that had caused him to get drunk and then high and they could write this whole thing off as a stupid, intoxicated mistake.

Fine. They were mature, they were adults—they could do that. But Jake was by no means under the impression that he would be forgetting the taste of Parkers lips or the press of his body anytime soon.

The worst part was that he wasnt even sure he wanted to.

With a sigh and a grunt, he managed to maneuver Parker off of him and onto the couch without waking him. Then he took a few minutes to panic.

As a rule, Jake was not prone to self-examination. He was of the opinion that life was too short to sit around navel gazing. Most of the time, that served him well, but sometimes, like now, it would have been nice if his startling self-realizations didnt come screaming out of the blue and smack him in the face.

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It was, sadly for Jake, not the last time Parker would pass out at an inopportune moment.

 

Almost literally, in this case, except for the screaming part.

He watched Parker sleep for a few minutes, making sure his breathing was even as his mind whirled out of control. How long had he been dancing around this thing with Parker? Surely he should have clued in by now? And what was Parkers deal, anyway? Jake didnt know if Parkers actions were due to liquid courage or simply impaired decision making.

Suddenly finding himself on the wrong side of sober, Jake rubbed his hands over his eyes. There was nothing further he could do about anything tonight, anyway. The metaphorical ball was in Parkers court, and Jake could guess well enough that they would be returning to the status quo in the morning.

Well, hed managed this situation fine once before. There was no reason he couldnt do it again.
Interlude

“
H
ELLO?”
“Hey, Becca.”

“Jake!” It was nice to know that there was always someone who was happy to talk to him. “I just saw the new music video!”

He smiled. “Which one?”
“„Black Lipstick. How long were you in makeup for that one?”

“Cute,” Jake said drily. “Do you mean me in particular or the four of us cumulatively?”

 

“Just you, everyone else looks like that naturally.”

 

“Hey!” he protested, mock-wounded. “An hour, but most of that was for the hair.”

 

“It looks the same as it always looks!”

“Yeah, they gave up on trying to change it after that.” He braced his feet up against the bunk above him as the bus took a turn. “They realized the futility.”

“What about the other guys?”

“Jimmy has dreads,” Jake pointed out. “Parker practically has a buzzcut. Chris was in the chair for like two hours, though.” A tennis shoe came flying out the lounge area at the back of the bus and smacked the side of the bunk Jake was lying on.

“Whatever. I liked the guy with the wig. Very post-post-modern.”

“That was Parkers idea,” Jake credited easily. He leaned his head out of the bunk to wave at him, but Parker had his headphones on and was lost in his notebook. “Have you been reading Moms textbooks again?”

“I do actually have to pass high school English, Mr. College Dropout. Hows your quest going, by the way?”

Oh, crap. Jake had forgotten that Becca was one of the thousands of people who occasionally tuned into his blog. What should he tell her? “Uh….”

Unfortunately, he hesitated too long. “Oh my God! Jake!” If Chis ever lost his voice, Jake knew somebody else with pretty impressive range. “I demand details.”

“Becca, I cant even smile at Parker in public without the Internet knowing about it. If there were anything to tell, you could Google it.” He peered around the end of his bunk to make sure Parker still had his earbuds in—not that he could take it back now.

“I am not stupid enough to Google that,” Becca said sharply, and Jake cringed. “So if nothings going on, then….”

 

“Then what?” he asked, hoping his apprehension wasnt apparent in his voice.

 

Becca paused for a long moment. “Nothing. Never mind. Hey, what are you getting me for my birthday?”
Third Movement: American Love Songs
T
HE last concert before they would break for recording was in Los Angeles.

 

It also happened to land on Beccas birthday.

Jake spent most of the morning trying to get her on her cell phone, but all he got was a lousy text message:
Sry, cn’t talk now, call me l8r
. He was kind of bummed, but he was also in Los Angeles, and it was sixty-five degrees in March, it was sunny rather than smoggy, there was a nice ocean breeze, and they had just put the ink on a deal to rent a house in the hills. It would have been rude to complain.

Especially since they were headlining a sold-out show at the Hollywood Palladium. They were all trying to pretend that it wasnt the coolest thing that had ever happened to them, but it totally was, so it was no surprise that sometime about halfway through the concert, probably when the crowd was roaring along with Chris to “Lucky Sevens,” he forgot it was his sisters birthday at all.

He might never have remembered—and then he would have owed Becca make-up presents until the end of time—but then the song ended and Chris introduced a special guest and his baby sister walked onstage.

The scene played out something like this:

Chris wailed out the last power chord of the song on his guitar. The audience cheered in approval. Someone waved a sign that said, “LA hearts Jimmy Jones.”

Chris waited until the cheers died down again before speaking.

“Thank you! As you all know, this is our last tour date before we go on a hiatus to start recording our next album.”
More cheers.

“What you may not know is that its also our best girls birthday!”

 

Jakes mouth dropped open in front of four thousand fans. “Oh, you didnt.”

 

“Oh, we did. Well, Parker did—apparently your mom likes him better than me.”

 

“Mama likes Parker more than she likes
me
,” Jake pointed out, craning his neck around. They must have stashed her somewhere. “Cant blame her for that. Anyway, Los Angeles, may I introduce you to Miss Rebecca Lee Brenner!”

Apparently shed been hiding backstage, because she appeared on the other side of Jimmys drum kit at a dead run. Jake barely had time to sling his bass behind him so it wouldnt bear the brunt of her impact, and then her arms locked around his neck. “Hey, sis,” he said into her hair, squeezing a little. He had to shift a bit to make sure she wouldnt squish Parkers glasses.

“Hey, rock star,” she said back, pulling away.
“Happy birthday.”
Becca gave him the biggest smile hed ever seen. “Thanks, bro!”

He had to relinquish custody for a few minutes so that Parker and Jimmy could get their hugs while Chris explained the little surprise they had arranged. Then it was Chriss turn, and, well. Despite the fact that Jake knew very well Chris would
never
, he did have a brotherly image to maintain, so he crossed his arms and glared as menacingly as possible.

Chris rolled his eyes at him and pinched Beccas butt. Par for the course.

“In case you were wondering, Ive been freaking out because I couldnt get hold of my baby sister,” Jake told the audience. “These assholes let me suffer for hours.”

“Not everything is about you,” Parker smiled mischievously. “Speaking of things that arent about you.” Becca had pulled away from Chris and was giving Jake a look.

 

Chris said, “Wed best be earning our keep,” and he plucked out the beginning riff to “Happy Birthday.”

Becca stuck around to sing a fairly decent duet with Chris, considering that she wasnt warmed up and wasnt used to singing in front of four thousand people, and then she headed off to watch the rest of the show.

Jake had expected to spend the afterparty, well, partying, but hed done enough of that in the last year and not very much hanging out with Becca, so sitting on a couch in the corner chatting with her while strictly supervising her alcohol intake wasnt much of a hardship.

His liver could probably use the break, anyway.

“So this is your life now, huh, Mr. Rock Star?” Becca teased, failing to hide a grimace as she sipped at her drink. “Where are all the screaming girls?”

“Newsflash,” Chris broke in, dumping himself into the leather chair across from them. “Jakes gay.”

“No way. I thought that was a rumor!” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though, my social standing went through the roof when you guys broke into the top twenty. Id be thanking you if the in-crowd wasnt such a bunch of shallow, egomaniacal self-absorbed piranhas.”
³³

Parker raised an eyebrow. “Should we cut her off?”

 

“Feed her some more and give her a pen, we could use those lyrics,” Chris suggested.

 

“Hello, Mamas an English teacher, remember?” Jake reminded them both. “She does that shit for fun. It was bound to rub off on us.” “How come youve never called anyone a shallow, egomaniacal self-absorbed piranha?”

 

“Maybe because all the people I know are shallow, egomaniacal self-absorbed jackasses,” Jake muttered.

 

³³
No offense to actual in-crowders.—JB
“Zing!”

Allanna appeared out of the ether with a tray of champagne glasses dripping in condensation and passed them around. “Eighteen on the eighteenth,” she said. “Thats a champagne birthday. But you didnt get this from me.”

Looking grateful for an excuse to get rid of the mixed drink Jimmy had made her, Becca swapped out her cup for a flute. “Thanks. Im Becca, by the way.”

“Allanna. Im the tour manager, also known as head roadie.” “Shes also in charge of making sure I dont fuck anyone inappropriate,” Chris drawled from his chair.

 

To her credit, Becca managed the spit-take very gracefully. “Hows that going for you?”

The hint of a smile lurking in the corner of Allannas mouth was easy to spot if you knew what you were looking for. “Its a work in progress, if Im honest.” She squished in between Parker and Jimmy on the loveseat.

“Well, there go my chances,” Becca joked, and it was Jakes turn to do damage control on the champagne hed just tried to shoot out his nose.

“Dont even think about it,” he said before his eyes had even finished watering. “I will forgive you for a lot of dumb shit, but thats not on the list.”

Breaking in before the slinging of sarcasm got serious, Allanna said, “Not to steal the spotlight or anything, but can I get some love here? Im not gonna see you guys for, like, three months!”

“Why not?” Becca asked.
“The tour is over,” Parker explained.

“And I live practically on the other side of the world,” Allanna chimed in. “Or as close as you can get on this continent, anyway.” “She lives in Newfoundland,” Jake said.

Jimmy elaborated, “Its like an iceberg, only colder.” “Im sorry,” Becca offered.
Allanna looked offended.

“That you have to put up with my brother and his pet assholes all the time,” she finished with a grin.

 

“Oh, I like you. Come on tour with us this summer. I can use all the extra estrogen I can get.”

Now there was a terrifying thought. Jake shuddered.
Becca nudged him none too gently with her sneaker.

Before Jake could mount a more vocal protest, Matt and Laura, the guitar techs, interrupted his train of thought. “Were ready,” Laura said to Chris, unslinging his favorite guitar from around her neck and passing it over.

Chris took it by the neck and stood to secure the strap. “Awesome.” Then he reached down and pulled Allanna up by the hand. “Come on, babe, were on.”

The rest of the group tracked their progress across the room to where a makeshift stage had been set up. Chris shoved Allanna in front of one of the two microphones, where she stood looking utterly confused and kind of terrified while he reached down and plugged in his guitar.

“Hi guys,” Chris said brightly. “You might have noticed that we already paid tribute to one lovely lady on stage tonight, but I wanted to do a more private sendoff for the road crew, so.”

Jake looked at Parker, who shrugged helplessly. “This should be good,” Jake said in a quiet aside to Becca.

From all corners of the room, they gathered at the stage: Matt and Laura; Marissa, Jakes bass tech; Little Mike on the bongos; Big Mike on the keyboard. Everyone had an instrument but Allanna, who didnt play as far as Jake knew and was thus stuck in front of the microphone.

“Um,” she said. “Whats going on?”

“We took a vote,” Big Mike said, “and the crew thought the best way for us to say so long for three months was for you and Chris to sing a duet.”
“Of a Paul Simon song,” Laura added.

Becca said, “Seriously?”
Jake and Parker shushed her simultaneously.

“I know you know the words, and if you dont sing Im going to hit on Lindsey,” Chris promised. Lindsey was their sound engineer. She waved cheerfully from her perch behind the bar, where she was doing engineers everywhere proud by making sure everyone got as drunk as possible.

“Cheers,” Allanna laughed, and she picked the mike up off the stand. “Alright, hit it, Little Mike.”

Recognizing the song only took a few seconds. Parker said, “I dont believe it,” his voice full of equal parts humor and shock, but Jake was already swaying along with the beat by the time Chris opened his mouth.