Page 54 of Louder Than Words

I snicker and let my back hit the mattress just as Jax does the same beside me.

He turns on his side, slides his arm under me, and pulls me close, nuzzling his nose in between my shoulders.

And that’s the perfect way to end a stressful night.

So much for having one uneventful trip.

24

Jax

If anyone ever wondered just how grumpy Don can get, they should try calling him in the middle of the night. Even better, let thehotel ownerdo it.

Because right now? He’s fucking fuming.

If I squint hard enough, I swear I can actually see smoke curling from his ears as he paces across Gareth’s trashed hotel room.

“So let me get this straight,” he growls. “Not only did you wreck the room, but I had to haul my happy ass down here to find out one of you booked a goddamn interview—and not a single one of you thought to tell me?”

The four of us shrug. I mean, from our point of view, it’s half-true.

I didn’t even want to do the bloody interview in the first place. But Gareth decided to take the lead on this one and tell Carly yes.

So as far as Don knows, we “booked” an interview. As far asIknow, Gareth volunteered us without saying a word.

And now we’re due for said interview in less than an hour—despite the fact that it’s nearly 4 PM and we’re still half-asleep.

“Nothing? Really? I had to hop on a flight to get here in time, and all I get are shrugs?” Don spins to face me, finger raised. “You know better, Jax.”

My eyebrows pinch together. “It’s not my bloody room. Why are you scowling at me?” I grab his hand and turn it until he’s pointing at Gareth, who’s sulking in the corner like a kicked puppy. “Trythatone.”

Don shoots me a look that clearly saysno fucking thanksand drops his hand. “I’m just saying, you can’t do that. You can’t book your own interviews and just… go. That’smyjob. I let you come to New York on your own because it was supposed to be personal. Not work-related. The second you bring business into it, I need to be there. It’s a liability.”

Gareth scoffs. And if I thought Don was mad before? That right there just pushed him over the edge.

“Don’t you fucking start, Gareth. It’s bad enough we’re footing the bill for your temper tantrum.” He gestures to the wrecked room. “You know what this looks like? To the hotel? To the label? Like we’re managing a band full of toddlers who can’t make it through one weekend without smashing shit and booking random press like it’s a goddamn joke.”

His eyes sweep along the room, landing on each one of us. “I’m not your babysitter. I’m not your PR team. I’m your goddamnmanager. And I can’tmanageanything if you guys do it behind my back. If you want to be rockstars, fine. But you can’t just do whatever the fuck you want, whenever you want. That’s not how this works.”

I press my lips into a thin line. Honestly? This whole thing is bullshit.

One of the worst parts of being frontman is thateverythinglands on me—because I’m the face of the band.

“You’re right, mate. We’re sorry,” I say, mostly because no one else is going to.

Don exhales and crosses the room, sinking into a wooden chair against the wall. He drags a hand across his shiny bald head, blowing out a long, tired breath.

“Tell me about this interview.”

I shrug. “Receptionist downstairs set it up. I think she said it was with something calledFeedback Junkies.”

His eyes snap up. I swear I can see a vein bulging at his temple again. “Feedback Junkies?”

I raise a brow. “Is that… bad?”

He scoffs, already pulling his phone from his pocket. A few taps later, he tosses it to me. Luckily for him, I catch it. I turn it around and my eyes land right at the top where big, bold numbers stare back at me.

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