by Desi Lin
Leaning the seat back a little I rested my hand on his thigh. His hand came down to rest over the top of mine, then he continued. “My folks are very different from me.”
I remembered him telling me that when I had my freak out at school.
“They’re extremely social and love to throw parties. My mom is in her element as a hostess and even does party planning for a living. Not weddings, of course, because, ‘no one likes a bridezilla’. My dad is a good ol’ southern boy in a suit. Put a beer in his hand, and he’ll talk to anyone. He’s a lawyer, so debating is one of his favorite things in the world, and he’ll do it until he’s blue in the face. My sister, Sandra, is… a diva is the only way I can think of to describe her. She wants the spotlight. I’m amazed she hasn’t already moved down to L.A.”
He told me they were social people and loud, but until now, I didn’t realize exactly how different they were from him.
His hand lifted from mine to scrape back his hair before settling on the steering wheel. “They don’t seem to get privacy or boundaries. They push and push. There are no locks on any doors in our house, except the bathrooms and the front door, ‘because we have nothing to hide.’ They never ask me to do things, they tell. Obedience is expected to be absolute, not that they are unreasonable or ask for the impossible. I mean most people probably wouldn’t care. Most of the time, it’s just them forcing me to go to all their fancy events, family get-togethers, friend nights, and wherever else they tell me I need to go and need to participate in…”
I didn’t dare move and barely dared to breathe. Never had he said so much at once, and I was pretty sure he’d forgotten I was even there. My question opened the floodgates, and they wouldn’t close until he’d aired everything.
“… but most of the time, I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m at those damn events. It’s not like I can find a book and a chair and read. If they’d let me choose the times I wanted to be there, or the events I was comfortable at, it would be different. But they don’t, and they don’t listen. They know best, and that’s all there is to it. I haven’t told them about Souta because I’m worried about how they’ll react. Despite being Elementum, they had some friends who weren’t really open-minded before we moved here. I just want them to hear me, to see me. Me. Not the person they want me to be, or the one they think I am.”
His voice trailed off, but I didn’t know how to react to what he said. Family was a puzzle I didn’t know anything about, so any advice I would give wouldn’t be worth a damn. The car jerked to the side of the road, then slowed to a stop.
“I’m sorry.” He spoke to the steering wheel gripped tightly in his hands, and I barely heard the words.
I eyeballed the console separating our seats and made my choice without hesitation.
With one hand, I unbuckled my seatbelt, and with the other, I pried his fingers off the steering wheel and climbed over the console to straddle his lap. I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
After a minute, he slumped into my hold, his face buried against my neck, blond curls brushing against my shoulder. “I’ve ruined thin-things. I don’t— I don’t know what to-to say, to-to-to make—”
Lifting his head, I pressed my lips against his to stop his words, the sudden stutter surprising me. Nerves? Fear? Too many emotions?
I didn’t know what the cause might be, but I knew one thing. I pulled back and cupped his face in my hands. “You don’t need to say anything, just be you.” His eyes met mine, so he could see the truth of my words. “Unless you want to share them, I don’t need words from you. I’ve never needed them. You talk when you have something important to say. I love that about you.”
Wait. Did I use the word love? My brain stuttered. I did. Now was not the time for examining my word choice, so I tucked it away for later.
“It should be me apologizing to you. I didn’t mean to upset you with my question.”
Brooks shook his head, hands resting on my hips. “Some things have been happening at home that has me on edge.”
“Anything I can do to help?” I would do whatever he needed if it helped ease him any. Not to mention get him more time with us. It hadn’t escaped my notice that we’d seen less of him in the last couple weeks than before. One hand lifted and pushed through my short hair to cup the back of my head.
“Just be you, beautiful. That’s all I need.” He gave me a short, swift peck before tapping my hip. “We should get going before a cop takes an interest.”
Careful to not hit the horn, I moved back to my seat. We continued our drive, and I changed the topic of conversation to less stressful things, like his books. He loved to discuss them, and the fact I wasn’t a fan of fiction in any form made for some fun debates as we drove. Several minutes later we turned off the main road into a dirt driveway.
As we turned a corner, I squealed, probably for the first time in my life, and the old house came into view, prettier than the pictures online, the historical society who ran the place obviously took pride in keeping it period-authentic. Vibrating with excitement in my seat, I barely registered the car stopping or Brooks getting out and coming around to my side to open the door.
When it opened, I flew out of the car and wrapped myself around Brooks. “I can’t believe you remembered this place!”
Brooks chuckled as he squeezed me tight for a moment then released me. “You seemed excited about the chance to see it.”
Grinning ear-to-ear, I grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the front door, practically bouncing while he paid the admission.
Our hands didn’t separate as we wound our way through the house museum, reading the information plaques by all the displays.
When we got to the study, my gaze went straight to the glass displays in the center of the room.
Through most of the house, Brooks and I enjoyed the opportunity to debate a little. He would mention reading something about this or that in one of his books, which contradicted the information plaques. He must have been doing it to rile me up because he never put up much argument when I would correct him. Neither of us said a word as we approached the displays holding the old letters and diaries.
These diaries couldn’t be read, of course. They were too delicate to handle from what I understood. However, the society had them open so people could at least read a little of them, and the letters were laid out page-by-page. I barely noticed when Brooks’ hand left mine as I began to read through everything I could see. Several minutes later I looked up, realizing the warmth of him was gone, only to discover his entire body gone. My stomach flipped as I walked back into the hall, nearly crashing into my quiet guy.
“Hello, beautiful.”
My brow furrowed as I noticed his hands held behind his back. “Where did you go?”
“I found their little gift shop.”
His answer did nothing to clear up my confusion, and it must have shown.
He chuckled and pulled his hands from behind him, revealing the book he held. “It’s a printed version of the one they have on display.”
Throwing myself into his arms, I kissed him, soft and gentle. He pulled back, handing me the diary. I should stop being amazed at how well he understood me, but I didn’t think I ever would.
Fifteen
The vibrations of the strings against my fingers felt like heaven, a calm I hadn’t felt in weeks settling into my gut. My fingers moved, another stroke, more vibrations. The calm moved up my chest, my shoulders releasing tension I didn’t realize I held. My eyelashes fluttered, and movement caught my attention. I let the chord fade and opened my eyes fully.
JJ walked slowly around a small chunk of some kind of stone I didn’t recognize. His jeans were snug on his waist and thighs, and I could imagine them cupping his ass lovingly. The plain white tank, covered in gray dust, gave me a great view of his biceps as they flexed with his movements. Reaching up, I ran my thumb over the corner of my mouth, checking for drool because—hot damn.
As silence finally
fell, he looked up, grinning wide when he caught my eyes. “Better, firefly?”
“Yes.” I set the guitar on the nearby black metal stand and crossed the studio.
He tangled our hands together and drew me into his side, planting a kiss to my cheek. “You should have said something sooner. Take it home. It’s yours. My folks will be fine with it as long as they know it’s you who has it.”
“Okay.” My reluctance could be heard loud and clear, but arguing would be pointless.
When I told JJ at lunch about my old guitar and how it broke shortly before I left, I never expected him to haul me home after school and give me one of his. His stubborn streak was as wide as mine, though, and he knew how important something like this could be.
He released my hand and returned to walking around his stone.
Settling onto the bench in the studio, I watched him.
Half an hour later, a form began to take shape, though still too loose for me to say what it would eventually become. I loved watching him, but my fingers itched to play.
The door opened, and Souta ran in, brown-black hair going in a million directions as he slid across the bench to tackle me. “Hot stuff! I missed you!”
I laughed. “It’s been like an hour since school ended.”
Straightening us to a sitting position, I spied Brooks walking toward us. Something was off. Running my gaze over him, I tried to figure it out. His blond curls were in complete disarray, pale-blue shirt half unbuttoned and hanging out of his jeans, expression guarded, something I wasn’t used to when we were all together.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He nodded and leaned over to kiss me.
He’d had to go home and talk to his folks about something, some family thing or other. I wanted to pull him aside, ask him to confide in me, use me as a sounding board the way he’d let me use him so many times. Only I didn’t know how to do it, or what to say to make him feel better. Nor did I want to push, so I let it drop when it became clear he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Come on!” Souta bounced up, grabbed the mic from the stand, and spun. “Let’s jam.”
Oh, yeah, I was totally on board on with this.
I jumped up and met Souta’s dark eyes, our grins matching as I picked up the guitar I’d used before. I whipped off a few chords of a song we’d been playing for a couple weeks, an original Souta and JJ put together months ago.
Brooks and JJ moved toward their instruments, flowing into the song without missing a beat.
I loved watching Souta when he performed, his moves all fluid grace and sensuality, his voice a perfect growl. He was made for the stage, and anyone who saw him could tell.
We ran through the song flawlessly and flowed into a cover of one of Souta’s favorites, a tune from a Japanese artist I’d never heard of before. The beautiful, haunting lyrics echoed in the room, settling into my core, though I didn’t know why. As the last of the song faded away, Souta tore his dark-blue T-shirt off and sent it flying into a corner of the room.
“Water.” The single word rumbled from Brooks.
He rose and headed toward a pitcher of water and glasses sitting on a nearby bench I hadn’t notice earlier. Then, my eyes caught on the small girl sitting a few feet away, long ponytail swinging along with her hot-pink-sneakered feet as she bopped to our music.
I set down my guitar and grabbed a drink before sitting next to Sophie. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
She shrugged, though her wide smile appeared genuine. “Okay. It’s been hard to adjust, but I’m getting used to it.” Her eyes drifted around aimlessly before settling back on me. “You all sound amazing. I’ve never understood why you don’t play somewhere.”
“That might change soon.” I certainly hoped so, anyway.
“Good. I have to get back. I’m helping Mom make dinner.” She waved as she rose and half jogged toward the door.
I waved back as she disappeared before moving to the bench I sat on earlier, trying to gauge the mood in the room. Souta plopped down next to me and leaned against my shoulder, watching Brooks and JJ as they chatted.
“Gonna try talking to them?” he asked.
Souta and I wanted this, but what about them? I didn’t want to do this if we didn’t do it together. It took me a moment to find my calm and soothe the fear and worries constantly assailing me lately. They had no place here.
A warm hand wrapped around mine, squeezing gently, and I drew courage from the contact. “Hey, guys? We need to talk.”
JJ’s head jerked around, his eyes wide. Fear practically rolled off him.
Next to him, Brooks chuckled and patted his shoulder. “She didn’t mean it like that.”
JJ let out a relieved breath, his shoulders sagging as he walked over to us and settled on the floor in front of me.
Brooks did the same as Souta chuckled. “Maybe, find a better wording next time, hot stuff.”
What was wrong with what I said? I shook my head and let the thought fade into the back of my mind for another time. “I’ve been thinking for a couple weeks… Well, longer than that honestly, because I’ve thought about it before I met you guys, but I wasn’t entirely convinced until after I saw you guys play. Then, we played together and wrote that song.”
Lips pressing against mine cut off my word vomit, and I raised my eyes from the concrete floor to see JJ smiling softly at me. “You’re rambling, firefly.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “Sorry. Um, so, what I wanted to talk about was, how would feel about becoming a real band? Like finding actual gigs and stuff around here? I mean I love playing. It’s all I’ve ever thought about doing, and Souta is practically made for the stage, and we sound friggin’ awesome, even Sophie said so—”
The press of lips against mine cut off my babble again. I didn’t know who stopped it, but I didn’t care. Our tongues tangled, stroking, exploring. Brooks. My body heated, and I moaned, my hands reaching for hair to fist in and pull us together.
“Fuck, that’s hot.”
The words came from Souta, but I didn’t register them. I scooted toward the edge of the bench, needing to feel more of Brooks. My fingers tangled in his curls, and I made a needy little whimper in the back of my throat. A hand settled on my hip, and lips pressed kisses along my neck, tiny nips following behind. My core began to ache, and hands wandered over my belly.
“By the elements, you guys are killing me.” JJ’s whispered words sent more need skittering through me.
I held out a hand in the direction of his voice, and a hand grasped mine. A body slid into the space between the wall and me, Souta from the feel of his body, and legs bracketed around me on the bench. His kisses and nips on my neck stopped, and his hands roamed up my stomach, brushing over my nipples.
Brooks broke our kiss, his hands skimming down my body, over Souta’s hands, and stroked low on my belly. I wanted those hands lower. Over my pants, in my pants, I didn’t care, they just needed to be lower. My eyes tracked Brooks as he moved to my side, his fingers dipping lower as he continued his ministrations. He leaned back, and Souta leaned forward, their mouths meeting with a flash of pink as their tongues tangled together.
I whimpered and spun my gaze to JJ, now on his knees next to Brooks, in front of me. I ached so badly my whole body felt as if someone lit me on fire. JJ released my hand, his own reaching up to cup my face, as he leaned in and devoured my mouth.
My own hands wandered, over chests, arms, tangled into hair, not a care for who it was as long as it was one of my boys. Brooks’ fingers stroked lower, grazing the juncture of my thighs as Souta’s hands found their way inside my shirt to play with my nipples. I moaned as Souta pinched my nipple, unable to stop myself from thrusting against Brooks’ hand. My own hands fisted tight into the shirt I held, not knowing whose it was.
Souta flicked my nipples, and JJ thrust his tongue in and out of my mouth as though fucking it. Brooks’ fingers stroked firmly over my center, and my whole body tightened. I panted into JJ’s mo
uth, moaning at the same time as my muscles continued to tighten from the stroking, flicking, and thrusting. I tensed until it felt as though I’d be torn apart.
On one loud moan, I exploded.
As I drifted back, I realized all the hands had stilled, falling away except for Souta’s, which wrapped around my stomach to hold me on the bench. JJ sat back on his heels, panting softly, a prominent bulge straining against his jeans. I glanced over at Brooks, sitting on the floor next to me, to find him in a similar situation. From the evidence pressed against my back, Souta was, too.
Before my brain could process enough to offer to fix their issues, the door slammed opened, Sophie skidding through. “Dinner in ten!” she shouted and ran back out.
JJ’s eyes caught mine. “Yes.”
My head tilting as I frowned. Yes? To what? Dinner?
A finger stroked down my cheek, and I swiveled my head to gaze at Brooks. “He means we’ll do it. It’s a great idea. Let’s figure out how to become a band.”
Sixteen
Staring at myself in the mirror, I failed to recognize the person standing there. My stomach rolled. My mouth went dry. I hated that this happened every time.
Tonight, the sensations were worse. The air in the house felt heavy, like something hung there, waiting for the right moment to come crashing down.
Arms wrapped around my waist, making me jump a little as Souta pulled me back against his chest. He nuzzled my neck as his hands strayed to the buttons on the crisp, white blouse I wore.
I batted at them, rolling my eyes as I turned in his arms.
“I don’t like it,” he murmured into my ear before kissing the soft spot just below it.
I tilted my head to give him better access as he trailed kisses over my neck.
“Take it off.” Steel laced his voice, sending heat pooling to my core. “It’s not you. My hot stuff, my passionate Ignis.”