by Kacey Shea
“At least we agree on that.” The hardness of her features softens and she tips her chin. “And you’re welcome.”
I walk to the door, but before I open it, I glance back with my most charming grin. “So, was that a no or a maybe on dessert?”
“You can go now.” Her lips press into a hard line and she raises her brows, daring me to argue. I almost do.
“Got it. I love it when you’re bossy. Totally hot.” I wink, but when she narrows her glare I pass through the door. “Going!”
On my way back to the studio, I consider telling the guys about this development with Coy. They’re gonna lose their minds. Sean especially. Fuck. They’ll learn the truth soon enough, though. And we don’t have the luxury of wasting time. We’re only in town for one week to celebrate the holidays and record a new single, and then it’s back on the road. As much as I want to bitch about Coy, I don’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas.
“There he is. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming back,” Trent complains.
“You’ve seen how hot our lawyer is, right? I was in no rush to come back to you ugly bastards.” I pick up my guitar and slide the strap across my shoulder. “Where were we?”
“Seriously? Dish. What’d she want?” Trent lifts his brow.
“She wanted me alone in her office. What do you think?” I stick out my tongue, hoping the obscene gesture will get him to drop the third degree. I’m well versed in lying, or truth avoidance, but I have a harder time when it comes to people who are familiar with my bullshit.
Trent stares.
I let loose a laugh that says I’m as carefree as a fucking bird. That does the trick.
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and tightens one of the strings on his guitar. “Picking back up on “Wandering Soul”.”
I nod and glance over to Leighton, waiting for him to count us off.
Sean struts over before we start. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, man. Nothing I can’t handle.”
He nods, but his lips press into a thin line. Worried.
“I swear. I’m good. Really, our sexy suit has it all under control.” I level him with a stare and it must work because he wanders back to his amp. I pray I didn’t just tell a lie. I have faith in our shark of a lawyer. Hell, how much of a case could Coy have anyway? Everything’s gonna be fine. It’ll all work out. It always does for me. Mostly.
109
Austin
It’s the most wonderful time of the year. At least, that’s what people say, and honestly, I shouldn’t complain. My life could be so much worse. But there’s something about the holidays that brings forth nostalgia and loneliness.
I miss things I shouldn’t. I miss . . . people . . . I shouldn’t.
The joint pinched between my fingers makes a lot of that go away. I inhale one last drag, hold my breath until my lungs burn, and snuff out the flame on my exhale. The party’s in full swing inside; cheerful voices reach all the way out to my perch on the back patio. Normally, I don’t envy others’ joy. Hell, I’m living my motherfucking dream. But today I’ve been avoiding this holiday gathering with my bandmates. In one year everything’s changed, and I’ve become a proverbial third wheel. Technically, fourth. The Three Ugly Guys have fallen in love, found their other halves, and I’m the lonely son of a bitch looking in from the outside.
Fuck, what’s in this weed? I shake my head and blink my eyes to clear the negative thoughts that swirl in my mind. I don’t begrudge my friends’ happiness. They fucking deserve all of it. And I don’t do relationships. I prefer my no-strings-attached bachelor status just fine. Staring at the skyline, I take in the gray clouds that paint the horizon for another second before I push off the ground.
If I stay out here much longer I guarantee Deb will send a search party. Trent’s mom practically adopted me as a teen. Not like she had much of a choice with the number of hours I spent at their apartment, but now I consider her more of a mother than my own. She won’t let me miss Christmas.
Throwing open the back patio door, I stagger a little as I cross the threshold. “Merry fucking Christmas!” I raise my hands, a wide smile on my lips, and walk into the family room.
Trent chuckles from where he sits at the edge of the couch and shakes his head. “Someone’s already lit.”
I press the little button on my sleeve and make the front of my sweater blink and glow. “Lit like a fucking Christmas tree. Only way to be, bro.”
“Festive as fuck.” Sean slaps my hand for a high five.
“You like the sweater?” I glance down and puff out my chest. “I have a matching one in my room if you want.”
“I’m good.” Sean chuckles, his arm around Jess’s waist. “Glitter isn’t for me.”
“Tinsel. It’s fucking tinsel, man.” I shake my head, but stop because the room begins to spin a little.
“You okay?” Opal crosses the room, concern knit in her brow, and she rests her hand on my forearm. She’s so damn sweet. Her little baby bump protrudes beneath the apron she’s wearing. I’d hate Leighton for knocking her up, except he makes her ridiculously happy. That and he’s a madman on the drums.
Fuck. I need to find a sweet woman for myself. “No one wants to wear my matching sweater,” I mumble at the sad realization. The floor dips and causes me to lose my balance, but I reach for the wall and set myself straight.
“Aww,” she coos but her lips lift into a smile. She pulls me toward the kitchen. “Honey, you need to eat.”
“I need Santa to bring me a woman.”
She laughs and hands me a cookie.
It’s frosted, decorated in white icing and pink sprinkles. If I squint, it looks like a naughty cookie. “Scratch that. Ask Santa to bring me a tray of pink pussies.” I shove the treat in my mouth and reach for more.
“And he’s done here, folks.” Trent catches my arm before I steal all the cookies. I try not to pout as he drags me backward into a chair.
“Drink.” Lexi places a water bottle in my hand and I catch the concerned look she throws her sister.
Opal purses her lips together and frowns.
“Don’t spoil your dinner,” Deb chides and motions for everyone to join her around the kitchen island. “A toast before we eat. Then we’ll do presents.” Trent’s mom raises her glass of wine, her fluffball of a dog held tightly in her other arm. “I’m so glad we’re all here together. It’s been a while. This year hasn’t been easy, and to those who are no longer with us . . .” Her voice cracks and she blows out a soft exhale. “They’re in our hearts. Always. But looking around this room—all the new faces—your young love—I can’t help but be proud of the lives you’ve created. You boys were hellions, and I won’t lie. I’m relieved to see you settled down. Well, most of you.” She pauses to meet my gaze.
“Love you, too. Mrs. Donavan!” I blow her a kiss.
She laughs and shakes her head. “I haven’t given up on you, Austin.” She lifts her glass in the air and glances around the kitchen. “To another year. May it bring you each more blessings. More love. And all your hearts’ desires.”
I open my mouth, a smart and highly inappropriate retort on the tip of my tongue.
Mrs. Donavan glares.
I snap it shut. The woman’s known me for over ten years. I can’t get away with shit around her. Never have.
“To family,” Trent’s smile is broad as he looks at everyone in the room. Sean and Jess. Leighton and Opal. Lexi. His mom. Me. “You all are my family.”
“To family,” everyone echoes back, and then we don’t waste another minute, grabbing plates we load up on the home-cooked heaven Deb and Opal spent the better part of the day preparing. The food is ten times better than any restaurant, and I swear to God I haven’t eaten this good in years.
The mix of being high and hung over propels me back to fill my plate a second time. I don’t know why I was so sad before. In this room, right here, are all the people most important to me. So I don’t have a steady woman; maybe i
t’s not in the cards. I have more than most. All the money I need. Playing music for a living. My life is good. And these people, they’re my family, even if we’re not bonded by blood.
“Feeling better?” Opal asks from across the table, her feet propped on the empty seat at my right. Everyone else buses around the kitchen, helping Deb clear the counter and wrap up leftovers.
“Yeah.” I meet her smile and shove the last bite of bread into my mouth. “I don’t know how Leighton lucked out with you, but he better appreciate.” I nod to my now empty plate.
“Stay away from my girl, Jones!” Our drummer is some kinda boy genius and apparently also has supersonic hearing.
I lift my middle finger, all in good fun, and shoot a wink at Opal. “I mean it; the meal was delicious.”
Her cheeks flush with my compliment. “Deb did most of the work.” She’s modest. I know she was in here all day working alongside Trent’s mom.
“Present time!” Deb claps her hands and shoos everyone back to the family room.
I grab another beer from the fridge before heading into the next room. Leaning against the door frame, I watch my bandmates and their partners gather around the ten-foot artificial tree. I wonder if we’ll even be here next year. This house is provided to us by our label, a massive three-story in the Hills, with a practice studio in the basement. But ever since our label Off Track Records was bought out by WMI, a giant mogul of a company, we’ve been riddled with uncertainty about the future. Under new management, we’re just attempting to get through our commitments and this last leg of the tour before we reevaluate or make any life-changing decisions.
Hell, living in one big house has only worked because Deb stays here year-round and we’ve never needed more. When we were all single fuckers, this place was more like an animal house. I bet everyone’s going to want their own place now, somewhere to play house now that they’re in love. Fucking love. Ruins everything.
“Come on, man. Don’t look so sad. I’m sure Santa brought you something.” Trent bumps his shoulder against mine and motions for me to follow him over to the empty couch. Everyone’s already busy passing gifts around. The rip of paper, joyful musings, and Nat King Cole serenading through the speakers is enough to make me nostalgic. Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year. Only is it?
“Austin. Trent. Come sit. Those are for you.” Deb points to the couch and a pile of gifts gathered there.
I don’t want to get emotional. I blame it on the day-drinking and the joint, but the presents, the love in this room, it’s all too much. The goodness of the moment hits me square in the chest. I take a second to watch everyone while they’re occupied with each other. Their joy is fucking radiant. I swallow down the impulse to cry and blink my eyes to clear the moisture.
Opal catches my gaze. “Did you open mine yet?”
I sniffle and discreetly rub beneath my eye. “No. Which one?” I say to the stack more than her.
“With the pink ribbon.”
I nod and take the package, carefully undoing the perfect wrapping. Inside she’s written a note I can’t look at right now because I know that’ll send me over the edge. Instead I lift out the chia pet. It’s in the shape of a Bob Ross head. Laughter bubbles from my gut and a smile chases away my earlier impulse to sob.
“Thank you.”
She grins wide. “You’re welcome.”
I make my way through the pile. A few are ridiculous, like the mermaid tail Snuggie from Trent. Some expensive. A Movado watch from Deb. All thoughtful and completely perfect. I get down to one remaining box and glance around the room. I have no clue who it’s from.
“It came yesterday.” Deb says as if she can read my thoughts. She probably can. “No card or tag.”
I rip through the paper, excitement and nerves in the pit of my belly at the idea of who it could be from. A gift from a certain sexy lawyer would make this day nearly perfect. But inside the package is a plain white box. No wrapping. No card. Strange. I shake my head, pull out a smaller box, and flip open the lid. It’s filled with rocks. Nope. Coal. And between several of the pieces is tucked a note card. I pull it out and try to process the words scratched in dark ink.
You think you can do whatever you want?
Wrong.
I hope you have a merry Christmas, because payback’s a bitch.
I laugh and glance around the room. “Okay, who was it?”
Their confused expressions meet mine.
“Ha ha. You got me.” I laugh again, louder, but no one joins in. No one even smiles. My amusement falls and is replaced with dread.
“What is it?” Trent shifts closer so he can read over my shoulder.
“Really. Who was it?” I say, keeping the tinge of panic from bubbling up. It had to be one of my friends. The alternative is disturbing. Who would send this?
“Mom, when did this come?” Trent glances up at Deb, his eyes holding the same worry that sends my heart racing. “And do you still have the box?”
“Yesterday, when you were at the studio. I think the packaging is in the garage. It didn’t have a return address, though. None that I remember. Why?”
“Because my guess is the cops are gonna want to take a look at it.” Trent swallows and looks at me before pulling out his cell phone. “Nothing says Merry Christmas like a visit from the LA Police Department, right?”
Shit. The last thing I need right now is to talk to cops. Especially if I don’t want my friends to have to post my bail. My eyes go wide as I catch Opal’s concerned gaze across the room. “You still have some of those cookies left?”
“Yeah,” she says warily, chancing a glance to where Trent speaks into his phone, “Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure I’m still high and drunk. And apparently we’re about to have visitors.”
“Fuck.” Sean swears and rubs at his temples.
Trent shakes his head and lets loose a humorless chuckle as he pulls the phone away from his mouth. “Can’t take you anywhere, man.”
“In my defense I wasn’t planning on leaving the house,” I offer, but catch sight of Deb’s disappointed glare. Fuck, this is a new low, even for me. Yeah, I’m the asshole who ruined Christmas.
She crosses her arms over her chest and her look of pity is even worse than the judgment.
Thanks to another slice of Deb’s lasagna and Opal’s tray of baked goods, I’m sober enough by the time the cops show that I no longer appear as high as I am. Any weirdness is written off as nerves, because holy fuck, who gets threatened with a Christmas gift? If that’s not enough to make a man stop in his tracks and assess the status of his current life choices, I don’t know what is.
Only thing is, I can’t figure out who might’ve sent it. Everyone I know who’d send a practical joke are the people here in the room. Which is exactly what I tell the cops.
“You sure there’s not anyone you can think of who might want to hurt you? Someone who feels they’ve been wronged?”
I wince because I realize I have to come clean. What I was trying to avoid and delay is now plopped in my damn lap. “Our former drummer. Coy Wright. He filed a lawsuit against me.”
“What?” Jess brings a hand to her throat. Her wide, fearful gaze makes me wish I had killed her ex when I had the chance.
“The hell?” Sean doesn’t even try to contain his outrage. “Austin?”
“I’m sorry.” I chew at the inside of my cheek and shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “I wasn’t gonna say anything until after the holidays.”
Trent’s gaze is serious. “So, that’s what the lawyer wanted to talk to you about.”
“Yeah.” I shrug and then turn back to the one this hurts most. “I’m sorry, Sean. Jess.”
“It’s okay. We’ll be fine.” Sean puts his arm around Jess’s shoulders. I don’t know whether his reassurance is more for her or himself. “I won’t let him near you, baby.”
“We all won’t,” Trent says. “You never have to see him again. Not if y
ou don’t want to.”
“So, we filing restraining orders, then?” The cop blinks and blows out a sigh. I can’t imagine any of this, or the report he has to type up about my cryptic Christmas message, is fun.
“No, sir,” Sean pipes up. “We took care of that earlier in the year.”
The cop glances at his partner. “Looks like we have all we need. One of the detectives from the station will be in touch. We’ll do our best to find out who sent this, but more importantly, keep your eyes open, and if anything seems out of order don’t hesitate to give us a call. We’ll alert the private security on our way out.”
“Thank you, officers.” Deb produces a few plastic containers, no doubt filled with home cooked food. “These are for you. We appreciate your service, and the sacrifice of you being away from your families today.”
They smile, appreciative, and offer thanks as she walks them to the door. With the food in hand they no longer seem put out. Thank God for Deb. She’s the best.
“Now that’s out of the way, who wants to go out?” I clap my hands once and then re-light my Christmas sweater so I illuminate the room. This stupid sweater is gonna be a hit with the ladies. It’s why I bought it. Sure, they’ll laugh and poke fun, but it’s an icebreaker, and soon enough they’ll be looking to light up more than my tree.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.” Sean pats my shoulder and pushes off the couch. He grabs Jess’s hand and pulls her up too.
“Yeah, we’re calling it.” Trent runs his hands over his face and meets Lexi’s stare across the room.
Leighton nods. “Us, too.”
“Fuck. Y’all are no fun. It’s Christmas Day. We should be partying. Living life! Drinking drinks! Finding me a woman.”
“I’m sure that’s the exact intention of our Lord and Savior’s birth.” Deb pins me with a glare and scoops up her dog.
“Sorry.” I cringe and then look to my friend. “You know what I mean, right, Trent?”