Evan plucked the strings on the guitar in his music room, ignoring his phone and Carl’s insistence he open the door. He didn’t normally throw temper tantrums, but the last eleven days in LA had been some of the most maddening of his life.
He’d held meetings right here in this room with just the core five members of Georgia Panic. No girlfriends. No wives. No kids. No managers. No brothers. Just the five of them.
He wanted to go back to Getaway Bay and the vacation he’d been promised. It didn’t seem fair that he’d only gotten a couple of weeks with Riley and the beach before having to deal with his career again.
He didn’t whine about it to anyone, though. After all, no one wanted to listen to a spoiled rockstar complain about having to work. And he wasn’t really complaining. He just felt
