Waking Up in Vegas(62)

“Ancient history,” I chuckled, taking my hand back and introducing both of them to Jensen.

I had to admire Jen–it only took her a couple of seconds to quit imitating a statue and stop gawping enough to smile.

Until JT pulled her in for a greeting like he’d done to me.

She froze like a deer in the headlights. Kori laughed out, “Stop terrorizing her, JT.”

“Is that what you Americans call this? In England, it’s a hug.” He let Jen go and she took a step back, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

Kori turned and oohed over the doughnuts. She grabbed one and tore it in half, reaching up to cram the sticky dough-wad into JT’s mouth. Fragments of sugary glaze rained down the front of his black tee shirt. “That should shut him up. Don’t mind Mr. Obnoxious,” she said. “He thinks he’s a rock star or something.”

JT snatched the other piece from Kori’s hand and shoved it into her face. Her giggling got louder, and for a moment, I thought one of them might actually choke.

And for that same brief span of time, I was envious of my friend and the true, easy joy he’d found.

Not that I assumed their lives were easy; far from it. If fame was tough in my little fishbowl, I could only imagine how many teeth it had when you were king of the ocean. Still, they’d managed to find it, and keep it, and I couldn’t help wishing for a little of that myself.

I glanced over at Jensen; she still looked half-terrified and ready to bolt, with a smile that didn’t extend past her lips.





“You’re still newlyweds, right?” I hated asking the stupid, obvious questions. I had to keep reminding myself that this interview was for the listeners, not for me to play catch-up with my busy Vegas party-pal.

“Kinda, yeah. We just celebrated our first anniversary last month, at home in England.”

“I’ll bet it was quite a bash.”

JT shook his head. “Not so much as you’d think. Because the band was going to be together for this Vegas rehearsal, the stateside guys stayed put, to cram in as much uninterrupted time with their families as they could get. So it was just our bassist, Rafe, and his family, since we live only about an hour away from each other.”

His answer made me stray from the questions I’d prepared. “Is it hard, maintaining a relationship and family when you’re living under a microscope?”

“For some people, maybe. Not really for any of us–we set the ground rules with the press early on that private means private. Plus, we’re not your wild blokes, so we’re too boring for the tabloids.” JT looked pensive for a moment. “Besides, Kori’s always in my thoughts. If we’re far apart, all I have to do is think of her and it’s like she’s right there.”

The lady in question flashed him a knowing smile and said, “The being apart part doesn’t happen much anymore. He’s practically glued to the house.”

“And with Las Vegas residencies being the new rage, everyone can bring their families and settle in for the duration. It’s a win-win, really,” JT said.

“And here in Sin City, everybody wants to win,” I quipped, knowing the comment was dumb but there was no way I could suck the words back out of the air.

JT shook his head and, chuckling, sipped his steaming mug of coffee.

The vibe in the room was weird, like there were about a billion things going on below the surface that I couldn’t see. Case in point: my co-host instantly and inexplicably losing her jitters.

“How are the rehearsals going?” Jen jumped in, saving me from looking like a complete moron. I blamed my idiocy on lack of sugar and grabbed a doughnut.

“Great, really. We’re playing some things we haven’t in years, and surprisingly, no one’s screwed them up too badly. I even remember ninety-percent of the lyrics.”

“What a load of bull. You remember them all,” Kori piped in from near the half-empty Krispy Kreme box. “The whole band is amazing. You’d never know some of the songs were retired from the setlist over ten years ago.”

“Can you tell us about any surprises you have planned for the show?” Jen asked.

JT smirked. “If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore.”

Jensen flashed a mischievous grin. “Not even a hint?”

He drummed his fingers on the countertop, seeming to consider. “The opening band will be a total shocker. Good enough?”

“I guess it’ll have to do,” Jen said. Kori leaned over and whispered in Jen’s ear, obviously sharing what JT had already told me–Slanker Knox was dressing in costume and opening for themselves, as the world’s best Knox cover band.