Chapter 22

22

M orris paced in the lobby of the hotel, getting more and more antsy by the moment. "Where are they?" he asked for the tenth time. His impatience had gotten the best of him many times in the past, and he shoved against it again. "We were finished when Mav and I came downstairs."

He and Mav had brought the van back to the hotel, and Tex and Bryce had stayed to play for Meryl, Larry, and a couple of other executives whose names Morris couldn't remember. His brother and nephew would get a cab back to the hotel, and they should've been here by now.

"They're talking," Otis said without looking up from his device. "It takes forever over there."

"I should've stayed," Morris said. Luke, Trace, and Otis all lounged on the couches in the lobby, none of them all that concerned.

"No," Trace said, looking up from his novel. "Trust me, you don't want to be at King Country. Everything there takes an age and a half. Let Tex deal with it."

"You'll have to stay for the full meetings soon enough," Mav added.

"Plus, Tex and Bryce were playing. That takes a million years." Luke tossed his phone a moment later in disgust. "I can not beat that level. It's impossible."

His phone buzzed and chimed at the same time, and so flipping loud, Morris felt sure the entire hotel had heard it. He frowned at the phone and then his brother, who clearly had a hearing problem.

"What?" Luke asked.

"Your phone just went off," Morris said as it did again. He peered closer at it, his heart sinking to the floor when he saw Blaze's name there. "It's Blaze."

Luke dove for the phone then, so violently that his cowboy hat—which Morris believed to be permanently glued to his head—got dislodged. He narrowed his eyes at Luke, but his older brother didn't even look at him. He got to his feet as he tapped and swiped, and he practically bellowed, "Hey, Blaze," before he went around the corner.

Morris glanced at Otis, who'd craned his neck to look at Luke too. He met Morris's eyes, his wide. "Blaze?"

"I was going to ask you that," Morris said. "Since when are Luke and Blaze chummy?" Blaze was almost a decade older than Luke—he was ten years older than Morris—and he'd been riding the rodeo circuit since before Luke had graduated high school.

Without looking up from his novel, Trace said, "Blaze is thinkin' about quittin' the rodeo. Hurt his back or hip or something a couple of weeks ago."

Otis sat up from the couch and picked up his cowboy hat from where he'd left it on the table. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Why didn't he tell all of us?"

Morris nodded to that. He'd been so isolated for so long, and he'd hated it. When Mav had started texting and calling about managing the band, Morris's whole heart had started to beat with real blood again. He'd known he needed to take the offer, even if it didn't pan out, because it was time for him to return to the family.

Gabe didn't feel the same way yet, but Morris prayed for his twin every single day. He texted and called him that often too. He knew Gabe struggled to feel wanted and appreciated in the huge, loud, stuffed-with-talent Young family. He knew, because he and Gabe had talked about their brothers for years.

Morris had been so thankful for Gabe over the years. He'd told him more than once that the only way he'd stayed sane for the past decade was because he had a twin. God had known they'd need each other, and they'd promised to never leave one another out.

He was trying real hard not to do that, but now that he was the official band manager, Gabe had to feel some thing. Morris suspected not something good.

"Trace," Otis said, and he looked up from his book.

"What?" he barked back.

"Why didn't Blaze tell us all about his injury?" He shot a look at Morris, who leaned forward too. He'd learned from Mav that he had to act as the mediator between band members sometimes. Turned out that Youngs didn't always get along, even if they were in the elite band together.

"I don't know," Trace said. "He felt embarrassed or something? Luke's tryin' to recruit him for the band."

"What?" Morris and Otis asked together. "Why?" Morris added solo.

Mav finally looked up from his phone, some curiosity in his face too. He said nothing, and he probably knew about Blaze's injury, because he kept tabs on all the brothers.

Trace rolled his neck along the back of his shoulders. "Oh, Luke is so pessimistic. He's sure the band is going to break up after this next album, because Tex isn't going to stay. Mav's gone, and well." Trace shrugged. "I agree with Luke. Tex is doing this album, and then he's done."

"You think so?" Otis asked, plenty of interest in his voice. "He hasn't said that to us."

"He hasn't even said that to me," Mav said. "And you two are close, Trace. Has he said that?"

"He's dating Abby hard-core," Trace said, hitching up one shoulder.

"Yeah, but he's building the recording studio in Coral Canyon," Morris said, concern spiking through him. He'd just gotten this job. He didn't want the band to break up.

"Truth be told," Trace said, his eyes locked on Otis's. "I think Otis is considering hanging up his hat too, and well, Luke and I want to continue the band for a while longer."

Otis didn't confirm or deny his departure from Country Quad, though Morris practically stared a hole through the side of his face. "What about Bryce?"

"Yeah, he's on the list," Trace said. "But we still need one more. Luke's talkin' to Blaze. As Mav would say, it isn't a crime."

"He's right," Mav said. "It's not a crime to talk to your brothers."

Otis looked at Morris then, some worry and doubt prevalent in his eyes. "Interesting," he said. "I'm being replaced, and I didn't even know it."

"You haven't even quit," Morris said.

"I wasn't planning to quit," Otis said, leaning back into the couch and bringing his hat over his face. "I'm pretty sure I just wrote the best album of my life in less than a month. Must not be good enough. You're out, Otis."

"Come on," Trace said, plenty of disgust in his voice. "I didn't say you were out, Otis."

"Luke is talkin' to my replacement," Otis said, and Morris didn't like how the voice came from his very still body, his face covered.

He looked at Trace, who hooked his thumb at Otis like it was Morris's job to fix this. He had no idea what to do, and his heart palpitated like it did when his team had less than a yard to go to score the game-winning touchdown and only two seconds to do it.

"There's no way Blaze is quitting the rodeo," Morris said. "Your place is in the band as long as you want it, Otis." He nodded like he'd just decreed it as such, and no one answered him.

He cut a look at Mav, who'd gone back to his phone. He allowed a small smile onto his face, and he gave a single nod, his way of saying that Morris had said the right thing.

This time, Trace's phone rang, and he said, "Sorry, boys, I have to take this. It's Lady Bea." A smile popped onto his face, and he stood too, saying, "Hey, princess. How are you?"

"Lady Bea?" Morris asked as Trace wandered at a much slower pace toward the revolving door leading into the hotel. "Who is that?"

"She's a legit princess," Otis said as he pushed his hat back just enough to reveal his eyes. "Trace met her at some high-society function in New York city a few months ago. Right after Mav's wedding."

"So he really does only date celebrities," Morris said, awed. He'd seen the jokes about Trace's dating habits on the brothers' text string; he just hadn't known Trace well enough to know if Tex and the others were ribbing him or speaking true.

"Totally," Otis said. "Just don't let him hear you say that." They chuckled together, and Morris went back to obsessively staring at the entrance to the hotel.

Luke returned, and he brought a certain tension and awkwardness with him that he couldn't seem to feel. He sat on the opposite end of the couch where Otis sat, and Morris watched the two of them. Luke probably couldn't hear the weird vibe he'd brought with him, and Morris said, "So, Luke, have you thought about getting hearing aids?"

"What?" Luke looked up from his game, annoyance on his face. Yes, Morris and Gabe had often annoyed Luke growing up. He was only three years older than the twins, and Jem was two older than him, so for a couple of years there, everyone had gone but the three of them. Luke claimed that Gabe and Morris ganged up on him. The twins always said Luke left them out of everything. Literally everything.

It had been a particularly sour poison when Luke had joined Country Quad, that was for sure. He was the only younger brother in the band, and Gabe had particularly struggled with how he felt Luke didn't represent the younger Young brothers very well.

"You can't hear very well," Morris said gently, leaning forward but not speaking any louder. "You've been playing very loud drums for a very long time. I wondered if you'd thought of getting some hearing aids."

Luke blinked at him, surprise replacing his irritation. He looked at Otis, who mouthed something. Luke leaned closer while Morris held onto his composure. He was going to break any second.

"What?" Luke asked, and Otis moved his mouth again, no sound coming out.

Morris burst into laughter, relieved and overjoyed when Otis and even Mav did too.

"I hate you," Luke said, getting to his feet and shaking his head. He moved over to the other couch opposite the coffee table and Otis and sat back down.

"Come on," Otis said. "That was funny. Plus, Morris is right. You yell everything, and your phone deafens people because you can't hear it."

"I can hear it fine."

"Because it's so loud ," Morris said.

"I'm not getting hearing aids," Luke said.

"They make ‘em really small now," Morris said. "No one would even know?—"

"That's Tex," Otis said, and Morris's thought about hearing aids vanished. He jumped to his feet as Otis did, with Luke not far behind.

"Trace," he called, and his brother turned from the fountain in the back of the lobby. Morris pointed toward Tex and Bryce, both of whom had now entered the hotel.

Trace stopped talking, lowered his phone from his ear, and marched toward them. He arrived at Morris's side about the same time Tex and his son arrived in the seating area. No one said anything.

"Well?" Morris prompted, trying to search multiple faces simultaneously. Tex and Bryce wore masks of iron, without a single emotion he could identify. "What did Meryl say?"