Nobody Falls for the Opening Act (Break the Rules Book 2)

Chapter 2

A Few Weeks Later

Thunder rolls along the northern sky as rain plummets against our tour bus.

Luckily, we’re heading south, away from the storm. We crossed the border earlier today and now ride on American soil once again. With the first of two Canadian shows officially under our belts, the Break the Rules Tour has entered its second phase.

Bye-bye, Vancouver.

Sayonara, west coast!

Next stop: Montana.

I look out my window as we pass a road sign. Now leaving Spokane. Two hundred miles to Missoula. Our driver, Mac, is determined to do the entire drive in one go, but with this weather following us into the night, we may have to stop somewhere off the road.

Not that that would be a bad thing.

My eyes drift toward the front of the bus on their own, targeting — who else? — Addison Abbey.

Rock guitarist.

Rock goddess.

She’s sitting alone with her back to the windows and her feet propped up, wearing an old Criminal Records tour hoodie that’s seen better days, but that just makes her look cooler. The light from her tablet shines on her face, highlighting the delicate lines of her cheekbones as she reads. She likes to read. She does it a lot.

Fuck, she’s pretty.

The remaining members of the band are resting, mostly. I haven’t seen Knox and Harmony in a little while, so I assume they’re cuddled up in a warm bunk in the back. Bronson snoozes in the seat behind mine, his head flopping inelegantly against his seat back. Jonah softly strums his acoustic with Katrina across the aisle; the two of them diligently working on his wedding song for Marla. Which is coming along great, by the way.

The three managers — Jordan, August, and Chrissy — are currently chatting at the table behind the driver’s seat, plotting and scheming and doing... whatever the managers do that makes this tour run smoothly. Or, as smoothly as it can, considering the circumstances.

Things have been a little cramped since Midnite Music gave Harmony the boot. No more contract meant no more Boom Boom. No more Big Pink, our affectionate name for her tour bus. No more Harmony.

And I thought my stepdad was a prick.

But overall, Harmony seems… relieved. In some strange way, losing everything made her happy. I’m sure her and Knox admitting their true feelings for each other didn’t hurt, either. They’re together — for real now. No more lies or publicity stunts. For a minute there, I thought the internet would burn them alive — and by association, me — but their fans don’t seem to care that much.

They want Wildfire.

I’m happy for them. And I think— oh, my god. Stop stalling and just go over there and talk to Addison already.

Now’s my chance!

I lurch off my seat, tugged upward by some phantom thread. I nearly trip over my own ankles as the bus’ momentum shakes me off balance. Slapping a hand on a seat back, I keep one eye on Addison and hope to dear sweet baby Jesus that she didn’t see me fumble like that just now.

Fortunately, she seems immersed enough in her book to not have noticed.

I discreetly slip into the seat behind hers. “Hey,” I say, clearing my throat.

Addison peeks at me, her deep blue eyes practically hidden behind epically thick eyelashes.

“Hey,” she murmurs as her eyes go right back to her tablet.

“Whatcha reading?” I ask.

“A book,” she answers.

“A spicy book?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

“Not really my go-to genre, but Katrina kept insisting I’d like it, so... I’m checking it out.”

“Well, do you?” I ask. “Like it, I mean?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment. “It’s okay.”

“Who’s it by? Maybe I’ve read it.”

Addison cracks a smile. I shiver. “You read romance novels?” she asks, clearly expecting a no.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I like to fill my creative well from all kinds of sources.”

She takes a breath, but she doesn’t seem annoyed. Not yet. Willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, at least. “Melanie Rose,” she answers.

“Oh!” I grin. “Let me guess: Soulmates in Sixty Seconds?”

Addison blinks. “Actually, yeah. It is Soulmates in Sixty Seconds.”

I slap the seat between us. “Classic! Loved that one.”

She stares at me, full of doubt. “You read Melanie Rose?”

“Read her? I know her! Her little brother Drew is my brother, too.” I raise my shirt, flashing the tattoo on my chest. Three Greek letters carved in black along my right abs. “Alpha Delta Xi, baby!”

“Ah,” she says, barely glancing at it.

“You know, we’re gonna be in Chicago in a few weeks,” I say as I let my shirt fall. “I can give Drew a call, see if he can arrange a meeting.”

“Oh. No. That won’t be necessary.”

“It’s no problem, babe! I’m sure she’d be down to meet you, too. Who doesn’t love Criminal Records?”

Addison cringes. “Don’t call me babe.”

“Sorry.”

“And I’m good, but... maybe Katrina would appreciate that.”

“All right, then,” I say, letting it go for now. “So, what chapter you on?”

Addison hesitates. “Look, Harvey...”

“I practically had that book memorized by the end of freshman year. You wouldn’t believe how effective Richard’s dialogue is with the ladies.”

“I know.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s your favorite line so far?”

“No, I...” Addison looks at me now like a high school guidance counselor. “I know you have a thing for me.”

My chest tightens. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Knox told me. And it’s okay!” she says. “I get it. Being on the road together like this, constantly in and out of hotel rooms. Thoughts happen!”

I say nothing.

“I’m flattered,” she says. “I really am, but I think we’ll both be more comfortable if one of us acknowledged it.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No! But I just wanted to...” She makes a flat gesture with her hand. “Acknowledge it so the two of us can move on from it.”

Move on from it.

I chuckle to smother the sound of my heart cracking into pieces. “When every step forward feels like a lie, it takes courage to know when to say goodbye.”

Addison stares at me, her face blank.

“That’s from Soldier On,” I say. “By Dade Connery? One of the best rock songs ever written?”

“No. Yeah. I… I got it.”

“Good.” I place my palm on my chest, feigning relief. “You almost had me weeping for a sec there.”

“Big Connery fan, huh?” she asks.

“The biggest!” I say. “He’s the greatest living musician in the world. He’s the reason I picked up a guitar in the first place, you know? My hero. My idol.”

She nods, her smile curling on one side. “You want to be one of those aging rockstars with nine kids from seven different groupies, don’t you?”

“Man, I hope so!” I say, laughing. “That’s the dream, right?”

“Right.” Addison stands up. “Well, I think I’m gonna go lay down,” she says. “Getting sleepy.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say. “Might do the same myself, actually. In a different bunk, I mean. I’m not going to, like… slip into yours or anything…”

Addison nods once and walks off, leaving me to sit alone and… die.

I exhale hard.

That could have gone better. Could have gone worse, though! I’m currently not wearing any sort of beverage. I count five senses. Four limbs. Three eyes. All good!

A hand grips my shoulder from behind. I glance up, meeting Knox’s sympathetic face.

“Bro,” he says.

“What?” I ask.

“Bro.”

“What?”

He plops onto Addison’s empty bench in front of me and runs a hand through his roughed-up dirt-blond hair. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“What did I tell you back in San Francisco?”

I shrug. “You told me Addison was into me.”

He laughs. “I very much did not say that.”

“Well, what did you tell her?” I ask. “I thought our conversation was private.”

Knox turns up his hands. “My first priority is to my band. There are no secrets between us — unless there are.”

“Good to know.”

“I gave her a head’s up,” he says. “That’s all. It looks like she put you down gently, though. So that’s good.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Real good.”

“I know it hurts,” he says, still sympathetic despite his amused smirk. “But you’ll get over it. Plenty more fishies.”

“Who, me?” I ask. “I’m not hurt.”

“You’re not?”

“I’ve never been better.”

“Dude, it’s okay,” Knox says. “I know the face of a man striking out when I see it.”

“I didn’t strike out.”

His smirk morphs into a grin. “No?”

“No! What you saw just now was me... laying pipe.”

“Moondog, your pipe ain’t going anywhere near her and we both know it.”

I release a laughing sigh. “Well, you told me you wouldn’t give up in my shoes, so I’m not either.”

“Smart. Stupid, but smart.”

I shake my head. “You know, I’m starting to see now why everyone goes to Jonah for relationship advice.”

Knox doesn’t reply. He merely chuckles as he stands and offers me another shoulder pat before walking off into the back of the bus.

I look out the window. The rain is pouring down, but I can still read the signs. One hundred and eighty-five miles left to Missoula.

What would Jonah do?

Write her a song, probably.

I can do that! I’m majoring in that!

I rest my head against the window, enjoying its cool touch for the minute it lasts before my body heat wipes it out. Meanwhile, my thoughts race.

If I were going to write a song for Addison Abbey, what would it be?

Soon, the steady lullaby of rain and thunder make my eyelids heavy, and I feel myself falling into a deep?—

POP!

The bus rattles, shaking me out of my half-sleep. Disjointed voices swirl all around me as the others react to the sudden lurch.

“Hold on to something, guys!” Mac shouts, expertly keeping control of the bus. Thankfully, there’s no panic in his voice. Just experience.

I cling to that thought as I grab my seat and watch as Mac steers our quivering bus safely onto the shoulder. As we come to a stop, I scan the others behind me for bumps or bruises, but everyone looks fine. Nothing but wide, relieved eyes all around.

“Is everyone okay?” Mac asks as he stands up.

“We’re good, Mac,” Knox answers over everyone’s affirmative hums.

Mac zips his jacket and tosses his hood up. “Felt like a flat,” he says. “I’ll go check it out.”

I shift forward. “You need some help?” I offer.

“Nah, you all sit tight,” he says, already halfway out the door with his flashlight.

Mac. Man of action.

He’s got the mustache for it and everything.

Love that guy.

I stand up, needing to walk off this sudden adrenaline spike. The others have the same idea, everyone rising at once to stretch their legs. Except Bronson, of course. He just shifts in his seat and goes right back to sleep. Dude can snooze through just about anything.

I look for Addison. She’s standing near the bunks with Katrina. Safe and sound.

After a few minutes, Mac returns dripping wet from the rain. “Yup,” he says. “We’ve got a flat.”

“Can you fix it?” Jordan asks with nervous eyes.

“Now? In this weather? I’d rather not,” Mac says. “If you don’t mind, I’d recommend we wait until after this storm passes.”

I scan their faces again, expecting them all to mirror Jordan’s worried expression.

But Knox grins widely.

“No,” Jordan says with a sigh. “Guys?—”

Before she can argue, Knox and Jonah bolt into the back toward the bunks, slapping Bronson awake along the way. He promptly hops out of his seat to join them, along with Addison and Katrina.

“You’re way too old for this!” Jordan shouts at them. As they toss pillows out, she throws up her hands and sits back down at her table along with a chuckling Chrissy. And August, who looks as confused as I do.

“What’s happening?” I ask them across the aisle.

Jordan sighs again. “Pillow fort,” she spits.

I lurch forward, feeling like I’m back home in my frat house. “Seriously?”

She glares at my excited eyes. “They do this every time the bus breaks down instead of just calling a few cabs and driving to the nearest city — like adults would do!” she adds, but her voice is lost under the chant growing louder and louder from the back of the bus.

“Bunk bus! Bunk bus! Bunk bus!”

I laugh as I watch Criminal Records, the number one rock band in the country, running back and forth, throwing bedsheets around and claiming their individual forts.

“Before you guys get too excited…” Mac says as he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a small object. “I found this jammed into the side of the tire.”

He hands it to me. It’s a pin. Small and metal, but sharp enough to do some damage. I turn it over in my palm, instantly recognizing the enamel logo.

A yellow lightning bolt.

Katrina shifts forward with a gasp. “That’s an Electrics pin,” she says.

Knox snatches it out of my palm as chants of bunk bus fade into silence.

“That son of a bitch!” he growls.