Jude sat in one of t the armchairs, staring out the window and wondering why the hell he couldn’t relax. He should’ve been asleep, snoring away like Richie and Vanessa, who were racked out on the couch. Even Connor had dozed off after they’d stopped for lunch. For as little sleep as Jude had gotten, and with three people sleeping nearby, he should not have been this wide-awake. But he was. He was restless, just like he’d been when he’d gone out for a smoke because lying under A.J. like that had been driving him insane. And then A.J. had come outside with him, and the nicotine had stopped doing a damn bit of good. Two cigarettes later, they’d gone back inside, and he still hadn’t been able to sleep. Good thing they weren’t playing tonight, but he’d better be well rested tomorrow, or he was liable to nod off while they were onstage or— Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Jude’s head snapped up. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. 109 His gaze slid toward A.J.’s fingers, which were tapping out the rhythm on the armrest.
