Page 12 of Rescue

“You hardly have anything to worry about in the pipes department,” I say. I mean it too. I wouldn’t call myself a huge Ransom fan, but it’s impossible to live in this country and not have heard them a fair number of times. Daltrey Ransome can sing.

“We should totally work out some duets,” he’s saying excitedly. “For the tour.”

“Assuming you guys pick us,” James says cheerily. I wonder if they can hear the edge under his voice.He doesn’t trust them, I realize. He thinks the audition thing wasn’t just Lou’s idea. And if there’s one thing James hates, it’s any kind of pretension. If someone isn’t straight with him, it’s impossible for him to respect them. I watch our manager talking to Will Ransome through the glass, and I wonder if he’s right.

“Well, if we have any say in it, you guys are definitely opening,” Cash says, laughing. He shakes my hand. “Cash Ransome.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Layla gesturing at her cleavage, a clear sign for me to lose my flannel shirt. I meet Cash’s eye instead. “We’ve actually met. At the Houston Festival, summer before last.”

His eyes widen. “Oh, yeah. I totally remember.”

James makes a scathing noise, and I hope the Ransomes don’t hear.

“You guys played a set, right? You were really good.” He grins. “I mean, you were good just now too. Obviously.”

It’s funny, but he doesn’t seem to be half as flirty as I remember. He actually seems about as respectful as his older brother. Maybe Ishouldhave lost the flannel.

There’s one Ransome who hasn’t said a word yet. He’s standing behind the oldest one, practically hidden from view. I struggle to think of his name—he must be the bassist. That would be… Lewis? No, that’s not right. They’re all named after rock legends.

Reed seems to sense where my attention is, and he takes a step aside to reveal his brother. “This is Lennon,” he says, shoving the guy’s shoulder a little bit. Now that Reed is out of the way, I can get a good look at him.Definitely the bassist. While Reed and Daltrey are fair and blond, Lennon favors Cash. A little shorter than his fairer brothers, stocky but not quite as muscular as Cash. He’s smiling, his expression polite, but there’s something drawn about his face.He looks… sad, I think, before telling myself I’m being ridiculous. He’s smiling as he shakes hands with my bandmates, whatever sadness I thought I detected long gone.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he says when he gets to me. He shakes my hand, the way he did with everyone else. Am I imagining it, or did he hold on for just a second longer than he had with the others? Up close I can see that his eyes are dark brown, his lashes long enough to make most of the girls I know jealous.What in the hell, Haylee?Analyzing this guy’s eyelashes?

“I was so stoked when the label said they had you guys in mind to open,” he says, releasing my hand. But he doesn’t turn away, addressing his words to me. “I remembered you from Houston. You guys really killed it that night.”

I don’t remember meeting him that night, and I’m surprised to hear that he remembers us. Unless, of course, he’s bullshitting me. But somehow I don’t think he is.

“You guys were supporting a new album then, right?” Daltrey asks. “Your debut?”

“Yeah,” Dylan says, shooting me a glance from the corner of his eye. “That was our first record.”

“I figured you guys would be headlining by now,” Cash says. “The crowd was super into you.” Lennon frowns at him, shaking his head, and Cash seems to realize belatedly that what he said might be offensive. “I mean, youshouldbe headlining,” he says quickly. “I hope you didn’t get mired in endless label bullshit.”

“Nothing better for stalling a career than putting a label in charge of it,” Reed agrees.

“Nah, the label has been good to us,” Dylan says, throwing a glance to the control room. “We took a little time off after our first tour and…” Four sets of eyes move in my direction, and I tense even though my bandmates look away quickly.

A little time off. That was a cheery way of putting it.

“Well,” Reed says, looking between us. He’s clearly picked up on the awkwardness. “Hopefully we’ll get a contract worked out with the label and the European tour will be a good way to come back from the break.”

I can feel a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, and I want nothing more than to run from the room. No one is looking at me anymore, but I can still feel their eyes. I wonder if the Ransome boys noticed where the others were looking. I wonder if they will put two and two together.

“Hey, you guys want a beer or something?” James asks suddenly, and I’m sure he’s responding to the panic he can surely read on my face. Better than anyone else, James would know exactly what I was thinking in that moment. He nods at the booth. “Looks like the suits are content to talk among themselves for the foreseeable future.”

“I never say no to beer,” Cash says, following James over to the mini fridge. Dylan grabs some folding chairs from the side of the room, and we gather in the lounge space in the corner, each taking a beer. “This isn’t bad for rehearsal space,” Daltrey says, looking around. “We’ve been holed up in this concrete dungeon over in West Hollywood for the past week.”

Dylan snorts. “We don’t usually get such nice accommodations. They wanted to impress you, I think.”

Cash holds up his beer. “Little did they know all they had to do was provide a few Heinekens.”

“How long have you guys been playing together?” Reed asks.

“James and I have been together… what?” I look at my oldest friend. “Ten years?”

“Sounds about right. We met up with Dylan and Layla after high school. And Lance joined us when we signed.”

“I’m the ringer,” Lance adds. “They brought me in to class them up a bit.”