CHAPTER THIRTEEN
GRIFFIN

“Sometimes I wonder if our touring isn’t the entire cause of global warming.” Adair coughs into his arm.

“That’s some ego you’ve got there,” Nash snorts, slapping him on the back as he squeezes between Adair and our bus. The driver is checking gauges while our mechanic has his head buried under the hood. The rest of the buses are undergoing the same routine checks. Each bus has its own mechanic in case one breaks down on the road.

It takes a whole army to keep this Amaryllis train rolling and to avoid falling right off the tracks.

So many people believed in our music—in us—enough to go out on the road and live this life for months at a time. It never ceases to amaze me, even now. We’ve become like one big dysfunctional family, except for Nigel of course. He’s what I like to refer to as the second cousin twice removed on these tours. He’s here to keep our funding alive.

Only a few more tours…

“Ten minutes.” Gus, our driver, cups his hands over his mouth and yells from the driver’s seat.

“Dude,” Nash grumbles, “Too loud. Too early.”

“Sorry,” Gus chuckles and chugs his coffee as he plugs coordinates into the GPS system.

“London’s not here yet.” I grab the door and pull myself up into the cab where I’m face-to-face with Gus. “We can’t leave until she’s here.”

“Griffin, you know I hear you. But Nigel will have my ass if you’re late to Denver.” Gus shakes his head and shrugs. “Not much I can do.”

“Ugh.” I hit the open door with my palm, and it bounces back to whack the brim of my ball cap. The wallop knocks me backwards into the door frame. “Pfft.” My stomach is flipping as fast as my heart is thumping against my chest, and now my forehead is throbbing. “Nash…”

“Don’t worry, buddy.” He smiles and settles into his favorite spot, which is coincidentally right in front of the television, with the game controller in his hand. “She’ll be here.”

“What if she bails?”

“She won’t,” Nash scoffs.

I roll my eyes. “How can you possibly know that?”

“From what you told me about how she handled herself with Nigel and your dumb ass, I don’t think she’s the bailing type.” He laughs a little longer than necessary.

Ugh.

Nash is right though. I can’t fight the smile when I think about London’s reaction to Nigel questioning if she could play. The way she put him in his place so quick it made his head spin was perfect… and terrifying.

“Where do I go?” a familiar voice is yelling over the sounds of the bus engines and the mechanics calling back and forth with the drivers.

“Casey!” I wave as I jump from the cab of the bus, completely nosediving into the ground. I land with my feet tangled and a mouth full of grass and dirt. Pfft. I push myself up, rocking back on my heels to dust my jeans off.

Casey’s clearly fighting back a laugh.

I can’t even blame her.

Her bubbly smile makes me feel a little better. If London wasn’t excited to come, then I doubt her friend would be. “Where’s London?”

“Straight to the point, huh?” She snickers and pulls out her phone. “London texted me a few minutes ago. She took a wrong turn, but she’s wiggling through downtown trying to get here. You know, one-way streets and all that.”

Woo! “And that is exactly why we have drivers. I’ve never been great at that stuff.”

“Yeah,” she says as she cranes her neck to scan the area behind me.

“Looking for Devon?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She frowns at her phone. “His text said to meet him here, but I don’t see him.”

“I bet he’s helping the security team load up.” I point to the third bus in the row. “That’s theirs. You can probably find him over there.”

“Thanks.” She has a bounce in her step as she heads over to the bus, and the rest of the crew notices it.

Idiots. I cup my hands over my mouth. “Back to work, huh?” I yell to make sure they hear me over the chaos.

“Jeez. Mister Rockstar is a total buzzkill.” The familiar giggle coming from behind me makes my heart stop cold in its tracks.

“London!” I fight the urge to pick her up off her feet as I turn to face her. She’s dressed for a road trip for sure. Jeans rolled up at the ankles, bright pink Chuck’s, and a black tank top with her hair twisted into some kind of intricately woven controlled chaos on top of her head. She’s a complete knockout. “You made it!” My arms reach for a hug, totally on their own accord. I don’t want to come on too strong and scare her away, so I pull back and switch to holding out my hand for a nice, normal handshake.

Yep. 

That’s not awkward at all.

A broad smile spreads across her face, but she apparently decides to let me keep what little dignity I have left because she takes my hand.

The same bolt of electricity I felt the first time bursts through again.

I’m screwed.

She looks down at the little man holding her other hand. He has the same eyes as his mama. “Griffin Miller, this is Carter,” she says with a smile.

“Hi, Carter.” I squat down to shake his hand. “Your mom has told me so much about you.” The most adorable little boy I’ve ever seen in my life blushes and smiles back at me before hiding his face behind his mom’s arm.

“Is he okay?” I ask, pushing myself back up to my feet.

She wiggles her arm, so he peeks out from behind it and nods. “He’s fine.” She tries to adjust the bags thrown over her shoulder, but Carter is holding on too tight to her other arm.

“Oh.” I can’t believe I didn’t offer to help her before. I’m seriously distracted. “Let me help—” I reach for the bags currently sliding off her shoulder and landing in the crease of her elbow.

She pulls her arm back. “I’m good.” Her gaze shifts from one bus to the other. “They all look the same.” She points to the one that Adair is leaning against while Carly and Nash are deep in discussion. “Is that the one we’re in too?”

“No.” I scratch the back of my head. “You have your own bus. Remember?”

“Oh.” London’s jaw gapes just enough that I see it before she catches herself. “I didn’t think he was actually serious about that part.”

She almost sounds disappointed.

Had she been hoping to be on our… on my bus?

Nah.

That’s stupid.

Carter tugs on his mom’s arm and is suddenly not shy anymore. “We get our own bus?” His voice raises at least a full octave as he bounces up and down. “That is…” He scopes out the buses lining the parking lot. “Awesome!”

“You definitely get your own bus. C’mon.” I nod toward the bus in the middle of the line. “I’ll show you.”

She hoists their bags back on her shoulder and Carter grabs the handle of his roll along suitcase.

“You know, you don’t have to carry them all yourself.” I reach out and again offer to take some of the load off of her shoulders. Literally.

She sticks her chin out and shakes her head. “I got it.”

I give her a tight-lipped smile and nod. “I know you’ve got it, but that’s the point. Isn’t it?”

Her forehead wrinkles as her eyebrows smoosh together. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” I clear my throat awkwardly, “that you’re part of the Amaryllis family now. You don’t have to do everything on your own.” I nod to her driver, who I found out this morning is Victor and has never had a traffic citation or an accident. I might have inquired a little more than typical since he’ll be driving London and her son. Victor flips the switch to open the luggage area. I step to the side so London can shove her bags into the compartment. “You’ve got room for some of your things on board, but any extras that you won’t need on the drive might be better stored here. Small spaces, you know?”

“Right.” She picks one of the bags on her arms and tosses it through the opening. “I think I actually need the rest of this stuff with me.”

“Okay.” No one can accuse her of packing light. “C’mon, then.” I duck my head to the side and motion for them to go up the steps into the cab. “Check it out.”

Carter is clearly excited as he scrambles from the front to the back of the bus and then back again, opening all the cabinets and checking out the hidden compartments. “Mom!” He flips the light on in the bathroom. “This thing even has a toilet.” He runs back to the bunks and claims his by unpacking his bag, arranging his solar system themed toys and plushies on the bed and the built-in nightstand.

“Don’t mind us.” London giggles and blushes. “This might be our first experience with anything like this.”

“Hopefully, it’ll feel like your home away from home before long.” I scope out the cabinets Carter left open. Ugh. “It looks like Nigel forgot to stock the cabinets. When we stop in the next town, I’ll make sure someone gets you the basic essentials.” The mini-fridge is just as bad. “There’s water,” I say as I pull some green weed looking thing out of the produce bin, “and apparently some organic stuff that I have no idea what it is.”

“That would be kale.” She laughs at my ignorance and plops down on the sofa. “I appreciate everything they’ve put in there. I really don’t think we’ll need anything before tonight anyway.” She motioned to Carter. “I had him pack up whatever snacks he might want for the ride and I packed him a lunch in case we don’t stop.”

“What about you?”

“I can’t usually eat when I’m stressed or anxious, so if we don’t stop for lunch it’s not going to be an issue for me.”

I hate that she’s this nervous. I want to make her comfortable—happy. My stomach growls as if on command. “Hey Victor, which city are we scheduled to stop at for food?”

He checks the GPS and scrunches his face. “Looks like we’re not stopping until we get to Wichita.”

“Ugh.” I groan and fall onto the sofa next to London.

“That’s only a couple of hours.” She laughs and pats my leg.

I could die happy right now. I pull out my phone and text Nigel.

Griffin: Send someone to pick up real food for London’s bus.

Nigel: They already did. Relax, Romeo.

Griffin: It’s full of #FakeFood. She’s got a kid, dude. Some fun food and snacks. Mmm-kay?

Nigel: You are the biggest PITA I have ever worked with. 

Griffin: *Kissy face emoji*

“Are you okay?” London’s eyes are focused on mine and full of worry.

“I’m fine.” My stomach feels like I’m going to blow chunks all over this bus. 

“Are you sure?” She asks with a nervous chuckle. “You’re turning a little green around the edges there.”

“Whoa.” I stuff the phone back in my pocket and lift myself up, looking out the windows. The Amaryllis labeled bus is already on the road and picking up speed. “Vic, they already gave the call?”

“Yes, sir.” He is navigating our bus out of the lot and onto the main road as he responds. “Next stop, Wichita.”

“That explains it.” I lower myself back onto the small sofa.

“You get car sick?” she asks.

I shrug. “Only sometimes.”

The hint of a smirk on her face makes my heart hit my rib cage just a little harder and I am a happy man.

My phone buzzes with a message in the band chat.

Adair: You’re welcome, Griff. Don’t screw it up.

Nash: He’s going to. Have you seen the stupid on that one?

Carly: You guys are ducks.

Travis: *duck emoji*

Carly: dicks *eyeroll emoji*

Adair: I have a dick.

Carly: The entire North American continent has heard about it too.

Adair: Because it’s legendary.

Nash: Would you two just get a room already?

Carly: That’s cute @adair, but you know what they say…

Adair: …

Travis: *laughing so hard I’m crying emoji* What do they say? C’mon! Tell me.

Carly: A lion doesn’t have to tell you it’s a lion. I assume that’s the same for legendary dicks.

Nash: BURN!!! @adair

Travis: *flame emoji* @adair *flame emoji*
^ Because he’s on fire from the wicked burn.

Adair: I got it. Shitheads.