Feuds and Interludes (Rock ‘n’ Romance Legends #1)

Chapter 7

Seven

S hane

“This is great. How long have you been living the van life, Shane?”

I smirked. “I had it done like this so Grandpa and I could maybe travel. The bed flips up to make more storage space for hauling gear.” I fidgeted in my seat, why did it matter that Boone liked my van?

“It’s fantastic! Spotless, picture-perfect, and cozy. Not the kind of vehicle one would picture Shane Butler riding around in. Then again, I don’t know much about the real Shane, so how would I know?”

His compliments further caught me off guard, so I looked out the window toward the direction he’d come from to gather my wits. I didn’t want to make a total fool of myself. I lifted my chin when I spotted a sleek-looking electric car. “That your car?”

“The Mach-E? Yeah. Love it. Ridiculously fun to drive. I wanted something reliable and better for the environment, you know? Gas guzzlers are going to destroy us.”

We both looked at the dash of my van.

“Uh, yeah, I have a Honda too,” I said lamely. What did I care what he thought? Except I cared about the environment, too.

He sniffed and turned to face the restaurant. “I guess we should talk about it.”

“About…it?” I asked, then I realized I was being dumb. “Oh. Them.”

“Yeah. Them.” He shrugged. “I think it’s cute they’re meeting up. I’m sure they’re just talking over old times.”

I ran my hand up under my sunglasses, unsure I was ready to have this discussion with Boone. I rubbed my eyes and then my stubble-covered jaw. “It ain’t just old times for Pops.”

He turned sideways in the seat, flicked his long hair back over his shoulder and waited for me to continue. His aqua t-shirt with the cartoon Scooby Gang was…cute, but the way it hugged his chest, and those tight, flared corduroy pants he wore with Birkenstocks…he looked damn fine sitting in my van. He’d fit in well with the SoCal set if it were 1968, when our grandparents met.

That thought gave me pause in my gawking. I pulled the sunglasses off with a huff and leaned my arm on the steering wheel.“He’s still got feelings for her, you know. This ain’t just about old friends catching up, Collins.”

He sat a little taller in my seat. “Oh. Well.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You see my concern?”

He frowned. “What?”

I cursed under my breath. “My concern, Boone, is that nothing good can come of this. They may have been friends once, but they run in different circles now, and her circle wouldn’t include someone like him. You know, Pops is a good man, and?—”

“Whoa,” he said, holding out his hands. “I know he is. And what do you mean by ‘her circle’? Her circle is me, her staff from the foundation, and a few close friends. She keeps to herself mostly.”

“Yeah, and nowhere in there is an old man still playing in a rock band.” I crossed my arms on the steering wheel, unable to keep gazing into his bottomless blue eyes. They were so deep, so perfect, I could so easily get lost in them. So maybe my next words were more about me than Pops. “I don’t want to see him upset.”

“And you think Gran will upset him? She is the most caring and generous person I know, Shane.”

“I know she is,” I said, holding up a hand. “I’ve got nothing against your grandmother.”

We were quiet for several long moments. I watched cars pull in, take the valet parking option, and nicely dressed couples went in and came out the back doors. A couple of teenage-looking tourists snapped pics of each other outside the old-fashioned restaurant. It wasn’t really a young-person kind of place. It was a classy, old-school restaurant that was probably a little old for Vera Jean and Bruce back in the day. Pops and John had spent a lot of time at It’s Boss and the Whisky on the Strip, along with other rockers from the late ’60s, early ’70s.

“You ever think about what it would have been like here back then?” I mused out loud.

“All the time. Can you imagine seeing all those bands?”

I didn’t answer right away. I’d often wished I could have experienced first-hand that wild time.

“Who were some of your favorites?” he asked.

Could we actually be doing this? Having a civil conversation? This was the most I’d ever spoken to him. It was surprisingly kind of nice.

I blew out a breath and started drumming my thumbs on the steering wheel. “Man. I would have loved to see Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. To hear those harmonies in person?”

“Really? That seems…tame for you.”

I shrugged and frowned when he started smiling at me. God, it was that big smile that always lit up a room, that graced the covers of magazines. So beautiful. “Just because I play loud music doesn’t mean that’s all I like.” I kicked up my chin. “How ’bout you?”

“The Doors…oh man . To see Jim Morrison, just once?” His eyes rolled back and he let his head fall against the seat with a sigh. God, his sex appeal was too much this close. I wondered if he knew the affect he had on people.

“I can see that,” I said, my voice cracking. “You definitely channel that energy onstage.”

He whipped his head around and stared at me wide-eyed. “That’s a huge compliment.”

I looked back out the windshield, afraid I’d give away just how much he affected me if we kept this up. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re good, Collins. You hear it enough, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but not from you. So thank you.”

I chanced a look at Boone and, dammit, I could barely focus on the topic at hand. I wished things were different, that we didn’t have this weirdness between us, because right then, just the two of us, he seemed like someone who could be that something I didn’t have.

A friend. A real companion.

“So what are we going to do about those two?” he asked, and I realized I’d been staring at him. He laughed. “I feel like I skipped raising a toddler and went straight to parenting a teenager.”

“It’s not up to us,” I said, sounding like the responsible one, a role I was used to. I often had to be the adult when Pops was in a mood. “I don’t like it though. I’ll be the one picking up the pieces if it goes south.”

“What do you mean?”

I frowned at him. How could he not know? “Look, Vera Jean is a grand dame, a lady. She’s got her life together. Pops has had…a different life. I don’t know how well he’ll take rejection at his age. He’s had a lot of loss in his life.”

“She has her moments. She’s impenetrable in public, but at home? Let’s just say…your grandfather isn’t the only one who could be hurt by this.”

We gazed at each other for a long time, the weight of our situation descending upon us like the curtain dropping on stage. Showtime . Whatever moment we were having was gone.

Our phones buzzed at the same time.

“Guess they’re done,” Boone said. “Thanks for letting me enjoy the van life for a bit.” His smile fell. It seemed as though he wanted to say something else. He turned to get out, and when he shut the door, he leaned back in the window.

“It was nice talking to you. I’m not sure why we can’t be civil like this all the time.”

I shrugged, feeling a little guilty for all the times I’d gotten frustrated with him. He wasn’t a bad guy. Honestly, his company had helped me stay chill while I waited to see what shape Pops would be in after his date.

“Yeah.” I had no clue what else to say. I was honestly shocked that we’d gotten along. Maybe it was when there were folks around that he had to be extra, or maybe it was?—

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Well, thanks.”

He walked away while I was still thinking of something intelligent to say. I fisted my hand and banged the steering wheel. I really needed to learn how to talk to people without being a jerk. Especially him. I got the sense that under that attitude he seemed to have, there might just be a sensitive guy.

I started the van and let it warm for a minute before pulling around to the back entrance. The last thing I needed was for the temperamental beauty to backfire and scare half of Los Feliz.

Boone had just reached our grandparents and was shaking hands with Pops as I pulled up. Then Pops took Vera Jean’s hands and leaned in to kiss her cheek. I was too far away to hear but he said something to her, and her skin flushed as she chuckled.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said to him, squeezing his hands. She took Boone’s offered arm and a deep frown marred his face as they stepped off the curb.

“Thanks, son,” Pops said as he climbed in. He rubbed his hands together and smiled as he watched them walk across the lot to Boone’s car.

“No problem. Everything okay?”

“More than okay.” He didn’t bother to further explain his cryptic statement, so I put the van in gear and tried to exit the parking lot. Tried . There were two cars facing opposite directions at the driveaway and the drivers were having a conversation with each other, not caring at all that they were blocking the exit. I groaned and put the van in reverse, figuring I’d use the other exit, which meant driving past Boone’s car. Which he was currently abusing by slapping his hand on the roof.

I stopped in front of them, and Pops rolled down his window.

“Everything okay?”

Boone cursed then took a deep breath. “Battery’s dead.”

“It’s all right, you two,” Vera Jean said. “Boone is going to call for a service truck.”

“It’s late, why don’t we give you a ride home?” Pops offered.

I covered my protest with a cough. I’m not sure what I would have said. “I’m not a taxi,” or something rude like that. While I coughed, Pops got out and held the door open for Vera.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

I shook my head and smiled tightly, not wanting to take a chance my inner asshole would answer.

Pops opened the back door and gestured for Boone to climb in, but I could see him warring with himself. I could only imagine he didn’t want to leave his grandmother.

Feeling charitable, I said, “I’m sure your car will be fine here. I could bring you back tomorrow to pick it up,” I said.

Boone blinked those giant blue eyes at me, and I wanted to tell him to forget it.

No, I wanted him to climb in and for us to keep talking, obviously without our grandparents.

“That’s very kind of you, Shane.” Vera Jean fastened her seat belt and smiled at me. “Boone sometimes forgets to charge that thing.”

It was my turn to do the surprised blinking thing. Boone? Not be perfect? I started to razz him about it but the innocent look was gone and in its place was…anger?

He climbed in and sat on the bed next to Pops.

“Sorry, I don’t have extra seat belts back there.”

“Just don’t take the corners too tight,” Pops said with a laugh. He said something to Boone, and when I looked in the rearview, Boone looked as if he’d rather eat glass than be riding in my van.

Why so on edge, I wondered?

Vera Jean gave me the address, and I plastered a smile on my face rather than bitch about heading in the opposite direction from home and into the hilly, windy canyon road. The van was in great shape, but the hills were a challenge. I watched as Boone attempted to find something to hold on to in the back, while Bruce and Vera Jean continued talking.

“Oh! And there was the place you lot rented back then.”

Bruce chuckled. “We definitely trashed that place back in nineteen-seventy.”

The two of them told hilarious tales of debauchery while I tried to focus on the road.

“I’m glad you kept the house here,” Pops said as we pulled into the driveway of a massive mansion. “John loved this place.”

“He did. We both did. It’s too big for me, really, but with Boone here, it’s nice. We both have our space.”

I had to bite my cheek. He lives with his grandma? I was close with Pops, but we both had our own condos a few blocks away from each other.

Boone stood and tried the door handle, getting a little frustrated when it didn’t work.

“Oh, hang on. It only opens from the outside.”

I put the van in park and got out, trotted around the backside, and opened the door, coming face-to-face with a flustered Boone. He hopped down and I got a whiff of his…body wash? He smelled like gummy bears, or taffy. I wanted to grab him and bring him back in close, he smelled that good. Instead, I reached for Vera Jean’s door and held out a hand to help her down.

“It’s kind of a high step.”

“I’ve got her,” Boone said, taking her other hand.

Vera stood between us, laughing at our overenthusiastic chivalry. I would have been flustered, but I was caught in Boone’s gravitational pull and I couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Boys, this was nice. Bruce? Walk me up?” She looked between us with a curious expression, and then accepted Pops’s hand.

Boone and I were left standing. Staring. Though what he was thinking, I had no idea. He kind of looked at me like I was an alien, when he was the one who’d shocked me.

“Thank you. I know it’s a pain to come all the way out here. I can’t believe it. I left the damn car on when I went over to your van. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“I think I’d always be nervous about running out of battery with an electric car.”

He shrugged and looked toward our grandparents getting cozy on the porch.

“They seem happy,” he said, sounding anything but.

“For now,” I scoffed.

He pinned me with his gaze once more. “I hope you’ll give Gran the benefit of the doubt. She’s not going to trounce all over your pops, no matter what you think of us.”

“I don’t think?—”

“See you around, I guess,” he muttered, shaking his head as he stormed off toward the house. Instead of going in the front door, he punched in a code on the garage and the door opened, revealing John Boone’s classic ’70s Corvette—the one he was photographed with for his solo album cover—and a late-model Cadillac, which was probably Vera Jean’s.

I didn’t know what to say. Boone was so different when it was just us. He seemed almost…insecure. Like he worried what I thought about him. Since when? He had everything. I fought for everything. But for now, we were united in our roles as doting grandsons.

We’d have to support our grandparents through this reunion, whatever we felt about each other. Whatever the outcome.