by E. M. Moore
“All you need to do is put your spin on the new songs,” Ian says. “I tried to hold Nolan off, but he was adamant he was coming. He wants us to finish everything in the next couple of days.”
“Shit,” Archer says. He downs the rest of his beer. “Let’s just do this. I’ll stay up until we get it and then sleep until they get here tomorrow.”
I look over at Archer worriedly. He looks like he’s going to fall over at any moment from pure exhaustion, but he gets up and grabs his bass anyway. Ian and Sean follow him, heading into the booth. Finnick kisses me on the temple on the way through. “Don’t worry,” he whispers. “We’ve had to do shit like this before. We’ll be fine. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
I bite my bottom lip, watching him make the trek into the booth too. The truth is, I’m not really needed right now. I can’t do anything to help them. They have the album. The songs are locked down. All they need is Archer’s parts.
And after tomorrow, they won’t need me either. Not for song stuff anyway. Sure, I can get them water and make sure they have food to eat and whatever else they might need, but I hope the rest of what we have going doesn’t get taken away.
Even though Finnick told me to head to bed, I stay up, watching the guys, reveling in the moments I do have with them just in case they disappear soon. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, a week from now, or more. But right now, I can keep doing this, so I’m going to hold onto it as tight as I can.
29
The next morning, I pad into the kitchen with a yawn. The last few days were the big push to the end. It’s been draining. And that’s not even mentioning that the guys stayed up late last night making sure Archer was on top of everything so that when Nolan comes today, they’ll be all set. To see them all together again warmed my heart. More so than usual, they fell into an easy sync that only comes from years of knowing each other. The only person I have in the world like that is Heather.
The smell of bacon filters through my sleep-addled brain, and I see Finnick standing in the kitchen again as I have so many times before. I walk up behind him, sliding my arms around his waist. He relaxes into my touch. “I was hoping you’d get up soon. I almost went down to get you.”
I smile into his neck. “Feel free to do that whenever you want.”
He turns in my embrace, putting a finger underneath my chin to make me look at him. “I’ll have to take you up on that.” When I don’t answer, he turns his head to the side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He waves my dismissal away. “That’s a lie,” he says. “It’s written all over your face, so tell me the truth.”
I smile, then lift up on my toes to kiss him. He lets us sway there, wrapped up in each other’s arms for a little while before pulling back.
“You’re not going to distract me. What’s up?”
Dread opens a pit in my stomach. I take a deep breath, gathering the courage I have. If Finnick could tell me what happened to him, I can do this. “It’s just that we’re almost done here.” I worry over my lip. “I don’t want to be almost done here,” I say, letting my soft words reach him.
When he understands what I mean, he gathers me up in his arms and spins me until he places me on the counter. “This isn’t a fling,” he tells me, his voice sure, unwavering. “This isn’t some summer thing where we’re going to go our separate ways at the end. I’m speaking for the rest of the guys too. You’re not going anywhere. And we’re not going anywhere. No, I don’t know what this will look like, but you’re there. One hundred percent you’re there. Don’t worry about that.”
I let his words settle over me like a calming rain fall. I believe him.
He bends until his eyes are the only thing I can see. “You’re one of us now.”
He threads his fingers through mine, and I look at where we connect. He has his rings on today, looking every bit the rockstar part. It’s not an act though. What happened to him doesn’t make him less of a rockstar, it makes him more of one.
He takes my face and brings us closer together until we’re kissing. He leans into me, pulling me out from the countertop, so he can settle in the apex of my thighs. We both moan at the contact. Finnick’s already hard. It may have taken him some time to get to the point where he felt comfortable enough to feel this way again, but he’s moving ahead full steam with me. “I dreamt about you last night,” he whispers. “Your legs wrapped around me while I was buried inside you.” His hips pitch forward, and I delight in the friction he’s giving me. With this new Finnick, I feel like we might spontaneously combust at some point. I thought it was just that way with Ian, but I was wrong.
I reach around to grab his ass, sinking my fingertips into his tight flesh, urging him on. My nipples harden, peaking under my shirt.
He trembles. “For as nice as that was, the real thing is going to be so much better. God, I fucking want you, Aisley. More than anything I’ve ever wanted. I—”
“Well, what do we have here?” a hard voice asks.
For a moment, I’m thrown off. Instead of rushing into Finnick’s words headfirst, I come crashing down. Finnick spins. He moves in front of me like he’s guarding me. When I look up to see who’s just come up the steps, I’m mortified. Mr. Nolan is standing right there, lips thin with judging eyes.
“I see our assistant’s been treating you well, Finnick.”
Nolan’s gaze drops, then flicks back up to his face.
Finnick twists toward me again, getting me down from the countertop, but also hiding himself at the same time. He’s pale, and his movements are hurried and stilted. He also seems to have lost his voice. He stands off to the side, immobile, quiet. I brush my hair back. Face flaming, I say, “I apologize, Mr. Nolan.” I’m sorry he walked in on us and that it paints me in a bad picture, but what the hell is he doing here? He barged into our house.
Then again, this is technically Big City’s house. We’re just living in it for the time being.
“Finnick and I are…” I look toward Finnick. His face is completely drained of color. He seems almost comatose. I don’t know how to explain what we are because it’s not just Finnick and me. It’s Finnick and the rest of the guys and me.
Nolan holds a hand up. “No need to explain. Could you please tell the others I’m here?”
“Of course,” I say. “I’ll be right back.” I look toward Finnick again, worried for him. Something about Nolan finding us together has thrown him off. “Do you want to get Sean?” I ask, thinking maybe that will wake him up.
“Could you get all of them?” Nolan asks. “I need to speak to Finnick alone.”
“Okay.” I take one last look at Finnick and then hurry to the other room to wake Ian up. The sooner I get back to the kitchen, the sooner I can figure out what’s wrong with Finnick. I barge right into Ian’s room. “Get up,” I whisper. “Nolan’s here.”
He groans. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“No, he’s here, and he wants you.”
After I slip into Sean’s room, I do the same to Archer who’s a little more difficult to get out of bed than the other two. He’s the most tired, but I don’t have time to coddle him, so I tell him to get up and then leave the door wide open after opening his shades and letting the sun in.
After I’ve done the best I can to get them all up, I walk back into the kitchen. Something isn’t right though. I don’t see Finnick at first. All I see is Nolan’s big body. I see him lean, whispering. Something about this whole scene is off. Where the hell is Finnick? My stomach curdles. When I make it around to the side of them, I finally find Finnick. Nolan’s standing over him, shoulders hunched around Finnick’s smaller framed body. Then, I see Nolan’s hand slipping down Finnick’s chest. Lower and lower. “The fuck?” I burst out.
Nolan steps back. He puts space between him and Finnick, but he has the audacity to stare at me like I’m an intruder. “Didn’t I tell you to get the others?”
“Calm down. We’re right fucking here
,” Ian says. He saunters out of the hallway with a pair of sweats and nothing else on.
“Finnick,” I say. He’s pale like he’s lost all color. I didn’t think someone’s skin could get that pale. I look back and forth between the two as realization sets in. Finnick stands there, stunned, and horror washes over me. “It’s him, isn’t it?” I ask. I move ahead, pushing in between Finnick and Nolan. I don’t know how I know, but in that moment, I just do. “Get the fuck away from him, you disgusting piece of shit.”
Nolan’s face hardens, twisting out of his normally perfectly groomed exterior.
I slam two hands into his chest when he doesn’t budge. “I said get the fuck away from him.”
Nolan stumbles away, but comes right back at me, face a mask of fury.
“Aisley, Aisley, what the hell?” Ian says. He runs over to us. Archer’s out of his room now, coming down the hallway.
“He did it,” Finnick says behind me. His voice is low, barely audible, but it’s all I need. I launch myself at Nolan, hands extended. My fingernails sink into his skin and when I pull back, three scratches mar his cheek.
He raises his hand to his face. “You little bitch.”
He lifts a hand like he’s going to come back at me with a punch, but Finnick finally moves. He shoves me toward Ian. I fall into his grip, but spin in time to see Finnick’s fist connect with Nolan’s jaw. “Stay the fuck away from me!”
Ian gasps. He moves me away gently, but then springs forward, grabbing Nolan roughly by the shoulders. “You motherfucker. You did that?”
“What the fuck?” Archer snaps, finally waking up and realizing what’s going on in front of him.
Sean comes out of his room behind me. He winds an arm around my body protectively as he takes in the scene.
Nolan looks around, glaring at each one of us in turn. He peels Ian’s grip away from his shoulders and tries to straighten his clothes. Then, he finds me. “You’re fired, Aisley.”
“Good,” I sneer. “I don’t want to work for a fucking pathetic excuse for a human being like you. I hope you rot in hell, you fucking piece of shit.”
“Now,” Nolan says. “You’re fired now. Get your shit and leave.”
“Fuck that,” Ian growls. “Aisley, you’re hired.”
Nolan makes a derisive noise in the back of his throat. “For what? Finnick’s personal little slut?”
“None of your fucking business, and I’d watch your fucking mouth because the only one who’s losing anything right now is you. You get the fuck out.”
Nolan laughs. “We have an album to finish. That’s why I’m here. You need me.”
Seeing as Ian’s handling the asshole, I move over to Finnick. He’s trembling, standing there, facing the person that’s probably haunted his dreams ever since. I’m surprised I never saw any reaction before when they were around each other.
“We’ll finish the album without you.”
I wrap my hand around Finnick’s. In the background, Nolan starts to laugh even harder. Finnick squeezes my hand and then looks up. “Fucking leave or I’m calling the label.” He gives Nolan a hard look, chin raised in the air just like Ian told him to do before. It’s not his fault. He shouldn’t be ashamed. He deserves a fucking voice.
Nolan’s jaw tenses. “All I saw was two people having a good time.”
“You’re fucking wrong,” Finnick bites out. “I’ll tell everyone what you did. Just get the fuck out.”
Nolan smooths his hands down his suit jacket. He walks out, but he puts on an air that he’s above all of us as he does. “Take a breather,” he says, his right leg on the steps that lead down to the first floor. “We’ll straighten this out later.”
Ian practically growls and Nolan heads down the stairs. No one talks until we hear the front door open and close and then everyone talks at once. Finnick practically collapses, and if it weren’t for Ian and I being right there, he would’ve hit the floor.
“What the fuck was that about? Did you punch him?” Archer yells, panicking. He slides his hands through his hair.
Sean is quiet, but he’s watching over everyone, still assessing the situation.
In the next few minutes, everything comes out. We’re all sitting on the kitchen floor. Finnick’s head is in his hands as Sean and Archer take the information in. Eventually, they look like they want to drag Nolan back here and kick his ass too.
At least I scratched his fucking face. He deserved so much more. So much fucking more, but satisfaction thrums through me anyway.
“You’ve got to tell the label, dude,” Sean says. “I’m not fucking working with him again. I don’t give a fuck.”
“It’s not that easy,” Ian says. He looks worried as he glances over at Finnick. “Finnick doesn’t really want this to be everyone’s business, you know?”
Archer lays his head back, hitting the cupboard behind him with a solid thunk. “This is fucked up. I’m so sorry, man.”
I move toward Finnick. He lets me squeeze past his legs, and I turn in his embrace. He encloses around me, his legs around my legs, his arms around my arms, and he settles his head on my shoulder. “I’m so glad you came in when you did,” he whispers. The guys are talking about what to do with Nolan, so this conversation is private, just for me and him. “I froze. I was paralyzed. Every. Fucking. Time,” he growls out.
I pull his arms around me tighter. I have no words. No words to help him get past this or to make him feel better. This is one of those times he’s just going to have to feel his way through this.
“Hey,” Ian says. Finnick and I both look up. I don’t know how long they’d been trying to get our attention, but they have it now. He looks over at Sean and Archer. “The guys and I were thinking we should make a call to the top dog. We tell him we’re not working with Nolan again. If he doesn’t give in right away, we can tell him we’ve got something to bring him down, and if he doesn’t want Big City brought into this, he better do what we want. That’s if you don’t want to tell anyone, man. If you want to scream it from the rooftops, we’ll all be right there with you.”
“Things were just getting better,” Finnick says, kissing my neck briefly. A swarm of feelings condense there and then buzz away, spreading to other areas of my body. He lifts his head. “I don’t think I can just yet.”
Archer stands. “That’s fine, but I think we should call Ace right now. We don’t want to give Nolan a chance to beat us to it. Who knows what he’s thinking? He’ll probably do anything to save his job if he thinks it’s in jeopardy.”
He walks over and helps me up first, then Finnick. He gives him a solid hug, not the usual short embrace with a pat on the back, a real fucking hug.
The guys all head upstairs to the recording studio, and I stay behind. I look around and notice the bacon Finnick had going is pretty much burnt to shit. I throw it away and then start some more. By the time the guys come back down, I have bacon and scrambled eggs ready for them all. I can immediately tell by their faces that something worked in their favor. I lift my eyebrows as if to ask, “Well?”
Finnick looks tired. He runs a hand through his hair, the rings on his fingers glinting in the plethora of sunlight that shines through the glass door. “It worked,” he says. “We didn’t even have to argue that much, which makes me think something like this has definitely happened to others.”
“If they don’t fire him for this…” Ian grinds out, a thinly veiled threat hanging there. I’m right there with him.
Finnick looks away, gripping the edge of the countertop. “I’ll figure something out.”
The guys all watch him, but we don’t say anything. He’s going to have to wrestle with his own demons in his head. All we can do is be there when he needs us.
30
Over the next several days, the guys finish the album with Marco who came in later that afternoon as planned. He didn’t say anything about Nolan, but came in, did his job, and left. I got to stay in the studio the whole time, watching the way things work.
It was heaven. Pure heaven.
All four of the guys throw themselves into the last stages of album making. They don’t have time to worry about any of the extra things going on. There’s no news from Archer’s family either, which he takes to mean that his sister is still in rehab. Ian’s parents haven’t sent another letter telling him he’s evil incarnate, and there are no returns of Sean’s ex.
Finnick’s back to his normal self. Well, his new, normal self. When Ace, the president of Big City calls the guys two days later, we learn Nolan has been fired for gross misconduct. I watch Finnick as the news is delivered and see a flicker of relief pass over his face. There’s still a tightness to his features though. This isn’t something he can get over just because he’s gotten some sort of retribution. There would be no justice. Justice would only happen if people didn’t act like that at all.
“Well,” Ian says. He grabs his beer and hauls it into the air in the center of the small circle the five of us make. Marco’s just left after sending the last song to Big City, and they just got off the phone with Ace, who’s been enthusiastic about the songs coming in from moment one. “We fucking did it,” he says.
The rest of the guys raise their beers. When I don’t raise mine right away, they all glance toward me. Sean physically takes my elbow and moves mine into the air to clink with the rest of theirs. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Ian groans. When he locks gazes with me, though, he sighs. “He’s fucking right. I hate it, but he’s right.”
He winks at me then. He doesn’t hate me, not by a long shot. He hates that I had to help him do what they were trying to do, but he’s come to terms with it. If anything, I think he’s a little afraid of me. Or afraid of what I represent to him. He isn’t used to having anyone be close to him, except his three best friends. His family hasn’t been close to him for a very long time, so when I walked into their lives, I threw them all—but mostly Ian—for a loop. I’m new. And to him, that’s a scary thought.