Page 26 of Layla

Layla

There is absolutely nothing like playing live music. The roar of the crowd, the energy that pulses through the venue. The connection that I feel with my bandmates, knowing that we’re all in exactly the same place, feeling the same things. When we’re really tight and playing well, it almost feels like we can read each other’s minds. Just knowing that I’m part of something, an integral piece to the sound and the energy and the music we create. It’s heady and exciting and I love every minute of it.

Tonight, we’reon. Everything is tight and energized. The crowd is totally into it—will it ever stop blowing my mind to hear thousands of people singing along to the lyrics we wrote in Lance’s mom’s garage all those years ago?

My stiff shoulder is still bothering me, but I’m determined to not let it get in my way. Especially after I look up during the second set and see John standing in the wings, just like we agreed. It’s stupid, I know, to want to impress him. He works for us, he’s not some fanboy. But there’s something about knowing he’s watching me that has an extra pulse of energy shooting through me.

Of course, he’s gone by the time we leave the stage for a short break between sets. I can see him prowling around in the wings on the other side, keeping an eye on everything the way he always does. But he looks over at me suddenly, our eyes meeting across the stage. When he smiles, I feel the strangest wave of warmth settle over me.

“Why do you look like that?” James asks, peering at me as Cliff and a few other roadies pass out water bottles.

“Like what?”

He wrinkles his nose. “All…gooey.”

“I don’t look gooey!”

Cliff snorts as he hands me my water and I stick out my tongue at him. Then Dylan joins us, squinting at me. “I can see it,” he says. “You look like the heart eye emoji.”

I shove them both. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

James points at me. “See, that’s your normal face. All scrunched up and pissed off looking. You definitely didn’t look like that a minute ago.”

“You suck.” I push past him as I head back to the stage, trying to ignore the way my lips are tugging up in the corners. Shit, I probablydolook gooey.

The rest of the show goes even better than the first two sets. But by the encore, I can feel us starting to drag a little. We’re tired, all of us. Louis was right, we need that morning off.

We take our bows the way we always do, arms around each other at the front of the stage. Then we’re heading back towards the dressing room, everyone acting more than a little giddy at the prospect of a break.

“You really meant it?” Dylan asks Louis. “We can really have the morning off?”

“You really can,” Louis mutters, tapping away at his phone like usual.

“You’re not going to change your mind?”

Louis finally looks up to glare at him. “I might if you don’t leave me alone.”

Dylan holds up his hands. “Leaving you alone immediately.”

“A whole morning off,” Haylee says, linking her fingers with Lennon and giving him a smoldering look.

James groans loudly. “I do not need to see the sex eyes, Hay.”

Lennon laughs, pushing some damp hair off her neck. How he touches her when she’s that sweaty, I have no idea, but he seems way too blissed out to care.

“You know what this means?” Dylan asks, looking at me. “Our first morning off in a whole month? We have to celebrate.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Layla needs to dance.”

I laugh. “You know me well.”

Even James is grinning. “Lou,” he shouts. “How about you plan us a party?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Do you have any idea what my job title actually is, James?”

James pretends to make a confused face. “It’s not Intrigue’s Little Bitch?”

We all laugh and Louis just looks at him, an even expression on his face. “Just remember that I’m the guy in charge of hotel room assignments. You might just end up next to the ice machine tomorrow.”

I go over to him and perch myself on his knee. “Ignore James,” I say sweetly. “We want to go out, Lou. And no one plans a better party than you.”