“You look miserable.” Shane laughed as he pulled me close. He turned right and I didn’t even question him as we started walking. I needed the exercise after all.
“I am, but it was worth it. That was the best burger I have ever had. Thanks. I’ll have to let Linc know about that place.”
“About Linc…” Shane grimaced. “Is he really gay, Lana? I mean, really?”
I couldn’t help but snicker. “I didn’t believe it at first either, but yes, he is very gay. I guess you would say he’s butch?” I shrugged. “I’m not sure what the correct term for him is.” My grin was wicked. “If it helps, you’re his type. Linc loves a man with a pretty face.”
His big hand swatted against my ass, making me squeal. “You mean little bitch!”
My laugh was soul deep. “Just thought you would want to know.”
“Gee, thanks, but I’m going to have to say it’s a definite no this time around.” We stopped to wait for the light to turn so we could cross the street. “Although, if you could help me out with your friend Harper…”
I pushed him away. “No way! Stay away from Harper. She’s not your type.”
“Sis, I don’t have a type,” he said with a smirk.
“That’s the problem. Harper isn’t the kind of girl to come running when you cock your sexy finger.” The light turned and we started across the street. “She’s a good girl. Not one of those groupie skanks that you and your brother are used to. Especially what you are used to.”
“That’s harsh, sis.” He gripped his heart, a pout on his lips. “You wound me.”
“Oh, please. You have loved maybe one girl in your whole life, and she’s going to marry your best friend.”
“Not true.” He wrapped his arm around my waist again, holding me protectively to his side as we walked with and against the evening crowd. “I actually love five girls. Emmie, Mia, Lucy, Layla, and you.”
Chapter 12
Drake
I was supposed to be at the network’s studio by eight. I got there on time with the help of the car and driver that the network had sent, but the line outside the studio made me ten minutes late because it was wrapped all the way around the building and two blocks past it. Fans, tryout hopefuls, and their friends and family that had come to support said hopefuls made it slow going for a while as the driver attempted to get through the masses without running anyone over.
By the time I got inside, the producers were already bitching, but I was used to that shit from Emmie after so many years, so I tuned it out and fell into my designated chair next to Axton. My friend was sucking down scalding coffee like it was nothing while he eye-fucked the producer’s assistant. Apparently he was over the big and final―thank fuck—breakup from Gabriella Moreitti.
The chair on Axton’s left was still vacant, and I wondered who the top secret third judge was for this stupid reality show. Not even Axton knew who the network had gotten, and he had been signed on to do this thing since February.
Someone set a huge mug of coffee down in front of me, and I nodded my head in thanks without giving the girl so much as a glance. I had already downed an entire pot of coffee since six o’clock that morning. Which was about the time I had heard Shane leave for his run…
Gritting my teeth, I pushed thoughts of my little brother, and who he could possibly be with right now, out of my mind as the producer finally got his shit together and started giving orders to his other staff members to get the tryout hopefuls organized outside.
“How you liking New York?” Axton asked as he bit into some kind of pastry.
I shrugged. “It’s New York.”
Axton raised a brow, making his eyebrow ring glint in the overhead lighting. “You haven’t even left the apartment yet, have you? Dude, you are really sad since you quit drinking.”
I snorted. “Thanks, man. I love you too.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t love ya, Dray. Just that you are really sad. Grab that brother of yours and let’s do something we shouldn’t tonight.”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good.” There was only one thing I wanted to do, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to accomplish it. I knew that hanging out with Axton and getting into something I shouldn’t would only make everything that much worse.
The door I had entered a little while ago opened, and everyone including myself turned to see who the late arrival was. I nearly fell out of my seat when I recognized Cole Steel of Steel Entrapment walking in like he owned the place. Knowing that old rocker, he probably did, or at least a share in it. He and his band had retired a decade or so ago, but they had remained in the business through other means. Cole owned half of a record label and backed several producing studios.