“Here you go, boys,” Rowan said as she placed the plates in front of them with a roast beef sandwich and potato chips. “I’m heading upstairs,” she told Maverick then and leaned in to give him a kiss. Maverick returned the gesture with a caress of his own before he watched Rowan head toward the back.
“Your manager won’t be pleased, I’m assuming.”
“Not especially since he wanted me and the band huddling together to write our next album. We haven’t even finished our tour for this one.”
Twirl and Dip (WIP) Drake’s POV Drake’s stomach rumbled and he cringed. “Was that your stomach?” Rowan asked and her lips twitched. “Afraid so. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I can never eat before a gig.” “I never could either,” Maverick said. “I’ll fix some sandwiches. Do want something, too?” she asked Maverick. “I can’t have a man eat alone.” She grinned and shook her head. (Finishing up the scene) “Of course not.” She headed back to the kitchen. “Thank you,” Drake called to her. “No bother,” she shouted back. Maverick and Drake moved to one of the tables with …
Then Rowan strode out of the kitchen and headed over to them with two cups. “I thought you both might want some coffee.”
Maverick strode over to him and took his hand in a warm handshake. “Dude, it’s been ages. I’ve kept up with your band. You’re making headlines.”
eople turned, and he’d be in deep trouble if he didn’t think fast. Fans could be brutal. “Omigod!” he said in a high-pitched voice filled with excitement. “Drake is over there signing autographs.” He pointed toward the woman and the crowd rushed forward.
Drake realized his hands held all he needed and hurried out the door and to the emergency exit he’d spotted earlier when the band did their soundcheck. Feeling like a wanted criminal, he pulled the cap down lower. He usually wore contacts, but he occasionally wore glasses as part of disguise to avoid fans. Superman had it right. No one recognized you if you changed your style and wore dark-rimmed glasses.
e changed out his sweaty clothes and into blue jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt and he donned a baseball cap and prescription glasses. He grabbed his guitar and the glass jar of sugar cones, then stood back to see if he missed anything.
He grew up with her. They swung on the old tire swing when they were kids and became best friends. Eastyn had been the first to hear his songs he wrote back then. She’d been the first for a lot of things.
