by E. M. Moore
When he goes back to looking at the sky, I lie down next to him. “I miss playing,” he says.
“You can play whenever you want.”
“No, I mean like playing in front of a crowd. Back in Hollywood Hill, we would just set up at parties and jam. We were so bad,” he says, laughing. The sound so foreign coming out of him. “Then we got better and better. YouTube happened, and then bam, but I can still remember liking those days when we just got together and started playing. It probably sounded like a train wreck, but we didn’t give a shit because we were actually doing it.”
“You should do that again then,” I say, picturing them up on a stage as teenagers. “Try to get your mojo back.”
The sand shifts next to my hand. I hold a breath in my chest, but then I feel it. I feel his hand move closer to mine, his pinky brushing against my own. “Why do you care so much?”
I shrug even though butterflies take flight in my stomach. I have a lot of thoughts about my reasons, but none of them stick. I’ve asked myself tons of times why I don’t just do my job and write these guys off, but I see something in them.
“You really have no idea?” he asks.
Goosebumps sprout up my arms as his barely-there touch battles through me. In one instant, I think about Finnick, but this isn’t like a thing where I like one or the other better. I like them both. If I’m honest with myself, I like all of them as a whole, even Ian’s prickly bits and Archer’s sharp tongue. My head throbs with excitement as Sean continues to trace the tip of his finger over my buzzing skin.
I want to turn and kiss him just like I did with Finnick, but I’m also stuck where I am. Sean knows something’s going on between me and Finnick. Does he not care? What will he think of me if I do turn and press my lips to his? Ian had no problem accusing me of sucking Nolan’s dick when I first got here. Will it be more of the same?
“I can’t stop touching you,” Sean says. He seems almost shocked by this revelation, and I imagine he is. It wasn’t that long ago that his ex took him down a dark curve again.
My breath hitches. It’s a wonder I’m still alive though because I don’t think I’m getting in enough air. Every time he touches me, I feel it more and more.
I don’t trust words right now. That’s one reason why I love writing. I get to think about what I want to say before I say it.
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t dare look over. He moves, though. His breath tickles the side of my face. It’s a whisper of a touch that drives me crazy. There’s something different about Sean than there is with Finnick. Finnick is easy going, easy to like. There’s a hint of danger in liking Sean. Not like Ian or Archer where I fear they would rather hate me than like me, but a desperate kind of tug. “I talked to Finnick about you,” Sean says.
I lick my lips and make myself meet his hazel eyes. I’m drawn in as soon as I do. The beach, the ocean, everything fades around us until it’s just me and him.
“I told him I liked you too. I told him I’d thought about doing things to you.”
“And?” I ask, the word coming out clunky, but I need to hear Finnick’s response to those words. I can almost not believe it myself. I want Finnick to say it’s okay that Sean likes me. That’s not something guys usually say though. They’re usually protective and jealous, and honestly, I don’t understand the feelings running through me right now either. I’ve been known to be jealous, and I am, but with all of them.
“He said you deserved to have whatever you wanted, including him or me, or him and me. Or—”
He breaks off when I move toward him. His hand slips over my thighs. He’s too preoccupied to finish his own thought because his hand trails up the inside of my leg and then over my hip, flirting with the top of my bikini bottoms.
My body tenses all over. “Kiss me,” I say.
I barely have it out of my mouth before his lips are on mine. This is exactly what I meant when I said there was a difference between the two. Finnick kisses with emotion, bringing in a sort of urgency, but Sean’s kisses are wild, almost frenzied, like there’s a desperation inside him at all times.
I run my hand through his hair, clasping the back of his neck to bring him closer to me. He makes a sound in the back of his throat that has me inching toward him. His fingers catch in the top of my bikini bottoms, but I don’t stop. I even lift my hips as an invitation. “Fuck, Aisley,” he says on a groan.
I don’t let him go back up for air, I kiss him again and again like every pass of his lips gives me more life. Eventually, he shifts his body, then slips his fingers under my bottoms. My head is screaming at me inside. I’ve been wet there ever since his pinky grazed me, but with the intensity of our kisses, the desire’s only increased.
The pad of his finger finds my clit, and I buck off the sand, reaching for more of him.
“This bikini,” he says. “I thought all of us were going to lose our shit when we saw you in it the first time. Fuck.”
His words only heighten my desire. All of them? Punctuated by the circles his finger is making, I drop back down to the sand, needing to suck in air. He smiles at me, reaching with his other hand to smooth my hair back from my face.
My need drowns everything out too quickly. Maybe it’s where we’re at right now. We’re alone, but in a public place. Maybe it’s just his expert touch and the fact that Finnick warmed me up earlier. Or maybe it’s none of that and just the pure want threading through my veins, but I reach out and grab Sean’s free hand anyway, squeezing it as he makes me climb higher and higher.
His hazel eyes blaze with understanding, and he quickens his movements until harsh sounds escape me, ruining the peaceful night but settling over us in urgency. The way he stares at me only sends me over the edge faster, and soon, I’m arching into him, my breath catching as pleasure slams into me. Sean keeps his hand there, urging every last wave of need to lap against me until I settle back into the sand. Then, he pulls his fingers away and tugs my cover-up back down. “You’re definitely letting me see your song book now.”
I must nod or make some sound of approval because Sean’s full-on smiling at me. He lies back down in the sand, then pulls me toward him, my head resting on his shoulder while we both stare at the sky. I don’t know what Sean’s thinking, but I’m wondering what else is going to happen during this summer that was just supposed to be about impressing a record company but has turned out to be so much more.
19
The next morning, an envelope comes for Ian, and he spends the rest of the day in his room.
The guys all gave him plenty of space. Despite the record label breathing down their neck yesterday, surely explaining to them the urgency they were under to get the next album out, no one bothers Ian at all. It makes me wonder what the hell that envelope is and why it seems as if this has happened before.
If I thought things were going to be weird between Finnick and I now, they aren’t. In fact, it’s the opposite. I now have two very touchy-feely guys on my hands and two who hate the sight of me. I like the fifty-fifty odds better, so it works out in the long run. After lunch, Sean takes me up to the booth and sits me behind the drums. He tries to teach me how to play by pointing out things, but then he slips behind me, making me stand and settling me on his lap. He takes my hands in his, showing me the movements. His touch is strong and sure. He’s definitely at home behind this set, and even though I don’t play the drums, he makes me feel like I’m actually good at it. That is, until he lets go of my hands, and I’m choppy and out of rhythm.
I see something out of the corner of my eye and look up to see Finnick standing, watching us from behind the glass. I go to stand, but Sean grabs my hips and keeps me where I am. “He won’t care. I told you.”
Finnick waves and then comes around. His rings glitter in the bright lights of the room, as do his eyes when he gives both of us a knowing look. My stomach basically turns itself inside out, waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for Finnick to get pissed, demand to know what’s going on, bu
t he doesn’t. The only thing he says is, “It’s too bad you don’t need guitar lessons.”
My face heats.
“Right,” Sean says, folding his arms around me. “About this song you wrote…” My face flames when I remember what I promised him after we were together last night.
“It’s not just one,” Finnick says. “She’s written a bunch. They’re good, man. And you know I don’t just say that.”
Sean chuckles. “Yeah, everyone thinks Finnick is the nice one, but he can be the biggest fucking dick.”
My lips thin. I never would’ve guessed that. Not in my experience. I turn my head to look at Sean because clearly, he’s joking.
Sean pulls away to look at me more fully. “I can tell you don’t believe me.”
I switch tactics and stare into Finnick’s amber eyes. I don’t see anything hidden there, not like the others.
Sean blows out a breath that caresses my spine. “He’s got everyone fooled.”
Finnick laughs at this too. The kind of laugh that knows he’s about to be picked on but doesn’t care.
“It’s only us he’s nice around,” Sean says. “You know they talk about doctors having bedside manner? He’s got zero.”
“He’s always been nice to me,” I say, testing his theory. Honestly, I think Sean’s just teasing at this point. Finnick is always just cool. If he were a car, he’d be in neutral all the time.
“That’s because he saw a sweet piece of ass.”
My mouth drops, and Finnick laughs louder, shaking his head at the same time. I follow with them, letting the humor break up any of the tension in the room even though I don’t feel any. But in case it’s there, it’s definitely gone now.
I look around the booth. Excitement fills me as I think about how far I’ve come. Sure, I’m only their assistant still, but what other assistant job would’ve landed me where I always wanted to be? Surrounded by music, and the inspiration? That’s second to none.
“I think we should get Ian out of the house tonight,” Finnick says after a moment. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me. Not looking where Sean and I connect, but just my face, watching what I do. Even when I’m not looking at him, I can feel his stare.
“What did you have in mind?” Sean asks.
Finnick shrugs. “A bar?”
My limbs tense. I basically got a warning from Nolan when he was here. I know I’m not going to betray any trust that’s between me and the guys now, but I also don’t want to lose what I’ve got going on here. I already texted Heather with a Sean update. She hadn’t responded to my last several texts, so the one she sent was so long, sprinkled with the word hussy every now and then.
“Is Ian okay?” I ask, concern pulling at me even though he’d probably hate that I felt that way.
Sean stills for a moment but covers it up well by dragging his hand down my thigh and back up. It’s a good distraction, for sure. “Just family stuff,” Finnick says, but the look he shares with Sean makes me think it’s not just anything. Again, I’m almost shocked to realize these guys have whole other lives apart from being in a band. It’s like you only see snippets of people. Up on stage. Music video. You start to get a picture of what their life must be like, and that’s not it. Not by a long shot. They have worries and problems, and sometimes those things come together to interfere with their job. Much like what they’re going through now.
Sean takes the drumsticks from me and starts tapping away. He drops his head back after a measure and sighs. “I miss playing live.” He’d said that last night too.
Finnick nods in agreement. He leans against the far wall. “I’m sure as soon as we get this album done, we’ll be back on tour again.”
“That part’s fun,” Sean says. I can feel his breaths through his chest. “But that’s not what I was talking about. I meant just like playing for other people. It doesn’t have to be a whole venue. Multiple dates. Just something small. The kind you get nervous for because there could be people there who don’t even know who you are. It’s like you have to keep proving yourself.”
“Those days were tough,” Finnick says, eyebrows pinching together in memory.
I relax into Sean. I could listen to them talk about this stuff all day, almost like I glean little nuggets of information from them just by being around. The guys continue to talk about the old days, but my mind wanders. I’m happy here, I realize. Despite the cold shoulder from Archer and Ian, I really, really like it here. I wasn’t mad at the guys because Nolan dinged me on the party thing, I was scared that he said there might not be a place for me at Big City. But is that what I really want? Just a place at Big City? I seem to really like it here. Week after week, we move into a rhythm. I don’t, by any means, think I have the guys all figured out, but I want to. Even Archer, and even Ian.
When I sense a lull in the conversation, I look up. Sean immediately senses the difference in me, so he turns his head to look at me, his gaze traveling down as if checking for anything amiss. He’s come a long way from the guy who was so upset about his ex calling him. It wasn’t really her that upset him. It wasn’t missing her or wanting her and having her throw it in his face again, I liken it to me and my ex. I’m glad I’m not with him. We weren’t meant to be, but there are things I wish I could go back and change. If I could, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Namely, not waste my time. I get that same feeling with Sean now.
“What’s up?” he asks, encouragingly.
“The album,” I say, switching my gaze to Finnick. “What did Nolan say? How pissed is he? Shouldn’t you guys be more worried about what’s going to happen to the band if you guys don’t get this done?”
Sean shifts uncomfortably underneath me. Finnick does the same, but it’s mostly in his eyes. He won’t meet my stare no matter how long I keep mine on his face. Eventually, he shrugs. “We can’t do anything about that right now anyway. Ian’s not coming out of his room unless we go have some fun tonight. I know that for sure.”
Sean slaps my thighs, a piercing jolt rolls through me. He grins and stands, forcing me to my own feet as well. “Then go out we will.” He bends and kisses me on the cheek. “We’ll worry about the album tomorrow.”
I worry over my lip. “What if Nolan finds out?”
When the guys look at me, I can tell they’re not second-guessing what I’ll do. They just shrug, almost at the same time in some uncanny manner where they’re mirroring each other’s moves. I guess that’s what happens when you spend so much time with people. “We’ll tell him ourselves, Aisley,” Finnick says with a smile. “That way you don’t have to worry about it.”
I move toward him while he grins. That perfect pouty lip coming out, making me smile. “Did you really think I was a sweet piece of ass?” Even though I’m asking it in a teasing way, I really want to know. Finnick has never tried to take our relationship past kissing while Sean did the first time.
Sean chuckles behind us but leaves the booth so we can be alone. I hear him walk down the steps, though I don’t ever take my eyes off Finnick’s. He doesn’t have his glasses on right now. I miss them, but at the same time, I like this face too. A line by his lips forms before a smile even stretches across his face. “Of course, I did. Who wouldn’t?”
I give him a look. We’ve had multiple conversations about Archer and Ian not liking me, so he knows this. He pulls me close and presses a kiss to my forehead. I reach up to grab his forearms, almost awestruck at the fact that I feel so calm about all of this. Like doing this with them is so normal. It’s a feeling I can’t capture or explain, but it just feels right, and now that I’ve started it, I don’t want to go back. “So, bar?” I ask. “You know I’m not twenty-one yet, right?”
Finnick keeps his hold on me but rears his head back. “Youngin’. How did you buy beer at the store?”
I shrug. “They didn’t seem to care.”
He drops an arm around my shoulder, and we stroll out of the booth. “Then I doubt they’ll care at the bar either. Besides, someone has to be sob
er enough to drive us back home.”
“What? No Rex?”
“No Rex. Just the five of us.”
I like the sound of that.
20
I know what no Rex meant, but I didn’t really grasp it until I come outside a half an hour later dressed in jeans and one of my dressier tops. It’s got a dip in the front, showing off some of my chest, and it’s probably one of the tightest shirts I own. I don’t know why I brought it with me, but when I remembered I had it, I was grateful. If you’re going to go out with rockstars, you need to look the part. The excitement passes though when Archer pulls around the driveway in a Mustang.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
Sean just grins over at me. He’s got the wrong idea though, I’m not impressed. I’m pissed.
I shake my head. “You’re all a bunch of fucking assholes,” I growl. “You know I’ve been getting Ubers to the grocery store, right?” If I had any idea they had a car here, I would’ve driven that.
Finnick’s the only one who looks the least bit contrite. Sean laughs just as loud as the other two, but perhaps not with the added layer of evil streak underneath. Ian looks away as soon as Finnick saunters toward me, giving me his best apologetic smile. I mean, who could stay mad at that? Especially because he looks so sinfully delicious right now, dressed up to get a few drinks. He’s sans glasses, but his rings are on. His hair is gelled, looking like he’s got swag for days. They all look that way, actually. I thought they always looked the rockstar part, but this is on a whole other level.
Ian’s voice pulls me out of my drooling stupor. “I’m sitting shotgun,” he calls out when Archer stops in front of us.
Finnick and Sean don’t even give him a hard time about it, most likely because it will be the three of us in the backseat. We squeeze in, and even then, I’m practically on Finnick’s lap in the small sports car. He doesn’t seem to mind though. His arms come around my waist, then they nudge my knees over toward the center of the car, giving me a little more room to get comfortable. I can’t sit straight up because of the low ceiling, so I end up practically laying my head on Finnick’s shoulder.