Page 218 of Just Wait

Our sweet little omega is hopeful while also being realistic that it might not stick.

Right after her dad was admitted, we had a come-to-Jesus pack meeting about cutting back on our drug use. I’m not sure if it’ll last once the exhaustion kicks in when we’re back on the road for the next tour, but we are doing our best not to be raging hypocrites.

I’m so fucking excited to be heading home tomorrow. One thing keeps popping up in the back of my mind, though.

Or, rather, one person.

Andrew still won’t answer my calls, and I’m not sure how to go about fixing that or if it’s time to let any hope of rekindling our friendship fade.

The label is having the majority of our shit sent back to Florida, but Kincaid magically negotiated us being able to fly back to Orlando. Although it’s not the normal way we end a tour, I’m not complaining.

My packmates are being weird as fuck, and every time I try to ask what’s happening, Lumen shoves her tongue into my mouth.

Not that I’m complaining.

I love kissing her, but I think I need to speak up.

“You guys,” I say, trying one more time to get them to listen to me. “We’re headed to the wrong terminal. This one doesn’t have any flights going to Florida.”

I would normally let it ride, but we’re already behind from fans stopping to ask us for pictures and autographs.

“It’s this way, I promise,” Kincaid calls over his shoulder without stopping.

“Come on, dude,” Malcolm says, waving me on. “Daddy has everything handled. Just get your ass in gear and follow along.”

Lumen spins and comes back to my side. She stretches up on her tiptoes and says, “They wanted to surprise you, but feeling how anxious you are, I’m going to go ahead and ruin it. We’re taking a quick detour to Ohio.”

My jaw falls.

The only person I know in Ohio is Andrew. I’m from Michigan, but I stayed with Drew in Akron when I got the spot in his band.

“Are we going to find Drew?” I ask, my heartbeat picking up to what has to be an unhealthy speed.

She nods. “Yeah, but I need you to not get your hopes up. At least, not yet. This might not go well. K and Mal hired a private investigator. The guy found Andrew, but when the PI approached him, Drew told him to fuck off.”

My lips blow together with the force of my exhale. “I get it.”

And I really do.

Goddammit.

That sounds exactly like something Andrew would do.

“I just want to talk to him face-to-face and give it one last chance to click,” I say as she spins, interlocks our fingers, and drags me after the guys. “If it doesn’t work, that’s okay, but I need to try.”

“I know,” she says, squeezing my hand. “And I really hope it goes well. If it doesn’t, I’ll be right beside you to support you through it.”

I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing her fingers as we weave through the busy airport. “I know, beautiful, and I love you for it.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve been to this area, but the private investigator gave us the address of the hotel Andrew has been staying at.

It’s a rundown little shithole. We stayed in some questionable places when we used to travel for shows back in the old days, but even at our brokest, we would have stayed away from this place.

Kincaid pulls the SUV into a parking spot, frowning up at the building through the windshield.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Mal asks. He’s in the back seat with Lumen, but he leans between the seats until I can see the concern written all over his face. “Seriously, we should come with you. Hell, we might want to have the security team follow us up.”

Sometimes it’s obvious how different our lives were growing up. His family was very middle class, while I grew up poor. Our neighborhood wasn’t quite this bad, but my mom didn’t let us leave the house after dark. While the street I grew up on was more working-class poor, a few blocks over, it transitioned into a pretty rough area.