by R. M. Lynn
“You can go,” Noah tells me, ignoring Oliver. “I’ll make sure everyone gets back.”
I give him a nod and immediately find Staffer, who calls me a car. Five minutes later, Alivia and I are in the back seat of a limo headed back to her place. She looks out of the window as I text my mom, telling her I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I’m hoping Alivia will invite me in when we get to her place. I get out of the car once we pull up, and keep my hand at the small of her back as we walk to her apartment door on the bottom floor.
“Thanks for convincing me to go,” she murmurs as she looks up at me. “I had fun. Well, up until the Dylan drama.”
“I’m sorry for cutting it short,” I reply. “I just knew it was better for Dylan’s face if I left.”
She smirks and her fingers dance over mine before wrapping around them. “Did you want to come in?”
“This reminds me of a time when this pretty drunk girl invited me in after I brought her home from a house party,” I say softly.
She nibbles her bottom lip, biting back a smile and whispers, “So, is that a yes?”
“Yes,”
She turns away from me, but keeps her hand in mine, and unlocks her door. I send a wave to the driver, letting him know his services are no longer needed. I follow her in, close and lock the door behind us, and head into her small kitchen.
“You know, with the money the label paid you, you can buy your own place rather than rent a shithole like this,” I tell her. “That’s just from the royalties.”
“I like my shithole,” she laughs as she pulls out a bottle of wine from the fridge. “It’s cozy.”
I raise an eyebrow in disagreement but don’t say anything else. She pours us each a glass, and she leads me over to her gray sofa. I toss my suit jacket on her armchair before sitting down next to her. Her feet go up under her, and her body shifts so she can face me fully.
“I have to tell you something,” she whispers and takes a sip of her wine.
“Yeah?” I reply quietly. “You can tell me.”
Her blue eyes dance over my face before she murmurs, “I missed you, too. When you told me, forever ago, I told you to stop. But you were right. I missed you, too. Every day.”
“I know,” I say with a smile. “I told you that already.”
“All my songs are about you,” she adds.
I smirk. “I know that, too.”
“Soon there will be songs on the radio about how much I hate you,” she tells me with a laugh. “I sold a few.”
“Can’t wait,” I mutter. “And we already established that you don’t hate me. You hate that you don’t.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m going to kiss you now,” I decide out loud and put my glass on her coffee table. I grab hers and put it next to mine, scoot closer to her, and put my hand up her jaw. “Is that okay? Can I kiss you?”
“Please,”
I pull her face to mine, and our lips crash together. She moans at the contact, and I feel it deep within me. I’ve never missed anything as much as I’ve missed the taste of her. She presses into my chest with hers, until my back hits the back of the couch. Her tongue slips past my lips as she straddles me. My hand goes to her ass before slipping up her dress and reaching her lace panties. When she pulls back to unzip her dress, my lips move to her neck. The second the straps of the dress fall from her shoulders, my mouth is at her nipples, licking and sucking. Her head tips back in a moan, and when I slip my hand into her panties, my fingers hit her wet warmth. When my thumb hits her clit, she grinds against me, and I groan into her mouth.
“Kyler,” she moans against my lips as her hands slip down between us, unzipping my dress pants.
Her hand slips into my boxers, my hips immediately arching up into her hand. The sound of my phone ringing in my pocket jolts her up straight, her breathing hard, lips swollen.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Hold on, it might be my mom about Lucy.”
Noah’s name flashes across my screen instead, and I reluctantly answer.
“Yeah?” I say into the phone, my hand sliding to Alivia’s bare ass.
“So, I know I said you could leave, and I had it handled,” Noah replies instantly. “Um, but I’m going to need your help. Ayden is fucking sloshed, and I’m trying to get him home. Oliver is completely MIA. Meanwhile, Dylan’s getting arrested.”
I close my eyes and let out a breath. “Don’t play me, Noah.”
“Brother, I’m not lying,” Noah insists. “You got to go get him. Cop told me if someone sober went to pick him up, we can take him with no problems. I had to sign some shit for his kid, but you have to go get him. He’s fucking freaking out.”
I have half a mind to leave him in the holding cell all damn night. However, I’m not going to do that. Simply because if the roles were reversed, I’d want him to pick me up.
“Fine,” I relent. “I’ll get him. Take the others home.”
“Thanks, man,” he mutters. “Sorry if I interrupted anything.”
I hang up instead of responding in fear that I may say something I’d regret tomorrow. I look back up at Alivia, slide my hands up her hips, and I adjust the skirt of her dress so it’s at least back down over her ass.
“I have to go,” I murmur. “Dylan’s gotten into some trouble.”
“Do you need me to go with?” she asks immediately. “Is everything okay?”
I shrug. “You can come if you want. The cops probably have him in a holding cell, but I just need to go get him.”
“We can take my car,” she tells me and pops off of my lap. “That way nobody will notice it’s you guys.”
I watch her head off to a bedroom, and I lay my head back against the couch. I was so close, and once again, these guys I call my friends have to ruin it. Alivia reappears with her car keys, and dangles them in her fingers.
“You ready?” she asks softly.
“I was ready for something completely different a minute ago,” I grumble as I stand, zip my pants up, and grab my suit jacket from the armchair.
She steps up to me and runs her hands up my chest, murmuring, “I know. We will. Soon. Let’s just focus on getting Dylan for now.”
I dip my head to kiss her. I sigh as I pull away and grab the keys from her. Slipping my jacket over her arms and shoulders, we head out to her car. She controls the radio as I drive us to the county jail, trying to decide what I’m going to say to Dylan when I see him. Granted, it’s the not first time he or any of us have had to get picked up from the place, but I feel that Dylan is on a downward spiral. We all like to party, but Dylan has taken that to a whole new level.
I tell Alivia she can wait in the car, but she follows me into the jail anyway. After I sign some papers and assure the officers I’m taking him home, and he won’t be a problem any longer, they lead me to the holding cell to grab him. He’s in there by himself, and I wonder if they put him alone because of his celebrity status. I step into the cell and walk up to him as he lays on a bench, asleep.
I shove his shoulder, rougher than I probably should, and snap, “Get up.”
He groans and looks up at me but doesn’t say anything. He looks like shit, and I can’t help but shake my head at him.
“You coming down?” I mutter lowly so the officers a few feet behind me can’t hear.
He nods weakly as he sits up, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands.
“From what?” I ask.
“Kyler, c’mon,” he groans quietly.
I crouch down so our eyes meet, and I growl, “From what, Dylan?”
“Coke,” he finally mumbles and shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
I stand and order, “Stand up. Let’s go. Now.”
He stands and slowly makes his way behind me. Alivia stands from her chair in the lobby when she sees us, her eyes immediately landing on Dylan. As soon we’re outside of the jail, I grab Dylan by his collar and shove him into the brick wall, causing him to wince.
“What is your fucking problem?” I question lividly. “What the fuck are you doing to yourself?”
“Kyler, I’m sorry, okay?” he utters and looks down in the space between us. “I just need to go to bed.”
“Look at me,” I snap, and when he does, I say, “You better get it together, Dylan. Do you hear me? If you don’t figure it out, you’re done.”
His nostrils flare in anger, and he shoves away from me as he retorts, “You can’t fucking do that, man. This band is mine just as much as it’s yours. You can’t take it away from me. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”
“You’re going to singlehandedly fuck all of us,” I argue. “Do you get that? Your actions effect all of us, Dylan.”
He finally seems to get what I’m saying, and his body sags in defeat. His hands run back through his hair, and he leans back against the brick taking in deep breaths.
“I’m sorry, man,” he says again. “You know I am.”
“Maybe I’d believe you if this was the first time you snorted that shit into your body. But we both know this has been going on for a while.”
I don’t say anything else after that. I’m so fucking mad at him, I could punch him. Alivia and Dylan trail behind me as I storm back to the car.
“Liv, you know I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” I hear Dylan say to Alivia behind me.
“I know, Dylan,” she murmurs softly. “But you have to take responsibility for yourself now.”
Dylan gets in the backseat while Alivia slides into the passenger seat next to me. I take us all to my place, because I can’t risk letting Dylan go out again once I drop him off alone. I let him collapse in my second guest room, and Alivia comes into my room with me. She takes her makeup off, puts on one of my t-shirts and climbs into bed with me. Normally, I’d only be able to focus on her body against mine, having missed it for the years I’ve spent without her. However, all I could think about was how I let my best friend sink into this hole he’s in. If I pressed a little harder, maybe he’d have sought help sooner. My mind races with thoughts about how Dylan must be feeling in order to seek out relief in drugs.
“What’s wrong?” Alivia whispers next to me, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I just feel like a shitty friend,” I mumble and rub my hand over my face. “He has to be hurting. He wouldn’t just pick up some cocaine because he felt like it. I just wish he could’ve come and talk to me before he started using shit like that. I wish I fucking said something years ago, months ago. I wish I put the pieces together.”
“It’ll be okay,” she assures me. “We’re going to figure it out together. He’ll be okay, and so will Violet Lane.”
I let out a sigh, kiss her, and wrap an arm around her middle to pull her against my chest.
“I missed this,” I whisper and kiss her shoulder.
“Me, too,” she murmurs. “At least now you have this king-sized bed, so we can stretch out. The beds in our old apartments had us forced into this position.”
I smirk. “Those beds sucked, you’re right. But I always wanted to be in this position.”
Our lips meet once more. It doesn’t go any further, though. She curls into my chest, and her warmth spreads across my body. I’m not sure who falls asleep first, but with everything involving Dylan aside, I can’t wait to wake up with Alivia again.
◆◆◆
Chapter Eighteen
Alivia
The first thing I see when I wake up is my phone on the nightstand next to me lighting up with an alert. I roll away from Kyler, who has the duvet cover low at his hips, his bare chest and taut stomach on full display for me. One of his arms is stretched up covering over the top of his head against the pillow. I reach for my phone to see several alerts from my parents, Mackenzie, and others. I pull open Mackenzie’s message to see a media link. Clicking on it, I immediately lose my breath. The front photo is of me and Kyler on the dance floor from the party. It’s slightly blurry, as if someone took the photo on a cell phone, but it’s clearly of us. His head is dipped toward mine, our lips just about to touch. I know it was right before Dylan interrupted us.
The headline of the article is “Violet Lane Front Man, Kyler Parks, Caught Getting Cozy with Songwriter, Alivia Hayes”. I release the breath I’ve been holding and roll back to press into Kyler’s side. His arm comes around my shoulders instantly. I tip my head up to see his tired eyes on me.
“We’re all over the internet,” I whisper.
He smirks drowsily and his husky voice murmurs, “Mm, good morning to you, too.”
“Everyone thinks we’re dating,” I add quietly as I shift so my hands lay flat on his chest, and my chin rests upon them.
“Hmm,” he hums as his eyes close again.
“Kyler,”
“Yeah, babe?”
I shake him gently and say, “Shouldn’t we do damage control? Don’t you have people for this?”
His eyes stay closed as he murmurs, “Yeah, I have people. Although, if you want a specific statement to be made, you’ll need to call Girardi.”
“Don’t you want to make a statement?” I ask.
His eyes crack open as he mutters, “And say what?”
“I don’t know. Refute the accusations?”
“Show me the article,” he demands and stretches his arms over his head as I roll back to grab my phone for him. He looks over the headline and stops at the photo of us before stating, “What am I supposed to say to try and deny this? We’re better off just staying low and not acknowledging the press.”
“So, is it true?” I tease and move my hands over his chest. “Are you getting cozy with this songwriter?”
His arms wrap around me as he pulls me over him, our bodies lying flush against each other. His hand slips up his shirt I’m wearing while the other goes into my hair at the back of my head.
“Maybe,” he whispers. “If she likes me.”
Before our lips can meet, there’s a knock on the door that makes us both freeze.
A moment later, we hear his mom call, “Kyler, honey, I have Lucy downstairs with breakfast. Do you want me to make you guys anything?”
“No, Mom, we’re good,” Kyler calls. “I’ll be down in a bit, just need to shower.”
I roll off of him and watch him sit up before getting out of bed. He heads off to his master bedroom, and I hear the shower roar to life a second later. I can see him standing in front of the mirror brushing his teeth as he waits for the water to warm. When he disappears out of view, I assume he’s climbed into the shower. I get up out of bed and head into the bathroom before all of my courage dissipates. I know he sees me through the foggy glass doors of the shower, but I don’t look at him. I dig around in his cabinet until I find a spare toothbrush. I finish brushing my teeth, and as he rinses his shampooed hair under the rainfall showerhead, I lift the white t-shirt over my head.
“You better know what you’re doing,” he calls to me, and I can see his eyes going to my bare chest. “You can’t change your mind after this, Alivia.”
“I know,” I reply as my hands go to my panties.
The thin material drops to the floor, and I slip into the shower with him. His arms immediately go around me as the water rains down on us. I kiss him hard, and his tongue ravishes my mouth. While his hands slide over my waist and hips, they end at my ass before he presses me back against the cool tile. When his mouth goes to my nipples, my hands dive into his hair, holding his head in place. He wraps an arm around my waist and hoists my leg up and around his waist. I can feel him hard at my entrance, and I can’t help but jerk my hips into his in response. His lips run up my neck and back to my lips as I try to press into him.
His hand suddenly unwraps my leg from him, his forehead pressing into mine, his breathing heavy.
“I can’t,” he whispers ruefully. “My daughter’s downstairs.”
I let out a shaky breath but nod weakly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I-”
&n
bsp; He shakes his head and cups my face in his hands. “It’s okay. I want to. I really do. And we will, but I… I’ve never brought another person home like this. I just don’t want her to get confused. And I can’t do this knowing she’s awake right below us.”
“I understand,” I assure him. “Can I at least stay to shower with you?”
He nods before leaning in to kiss me again. When we pull apart, I grab his shampoo to squirt it into my hand. Kyler takes it from me, though, turns me around so my back is to him, and scrubs it into my hair.
“We’ll have to get some shit in here for you,” he murmurs as his fingers work through my hair.
I look back over my shoulder and mumble, “That’s pretty serious, isn’t it?”
He shrugs. “I’m pretty serious about this, so…”
“Really?” I ask and turn to face him fully, the shower rinsing my hair.
“Yeah, really,” he chuckles out. “I thought I was making it pretty obvious.”
“It isn’t too soon?”
“Livy, I spent how many years without you?”
I ask, “What about Lucy?”
He grabs his body wash and hands it to me as he murmurs, “Yeah, we’ll have to take it slow with that, but I don’t think you staying over once in a while is a bad thing. Right?”
I shrug, and he adds, “I don’t know either. I’m not very good at this whole father thing. I only pretend to know what I’m doing.”
I smirk and run my hands over his slick chest and tip up on my toes to kiss him.
“You’re a great dad,” I assure him.
“It’ll help that she already knows you, I think,” he states.
I give a nod because I think he’s right. We finish our shower, but not without a few more deep kisses and lingering touches. Once we’re done, he leads me into his bedroom, a towel around his waist and one around my body.
“There’re some sweats you can wear in my dresser,” he tells me. “They’ll be huge on you, but it’s the best I got. I’ll get you a t-shirt.”
He heads into his walk-in closet, and grabs two t-shirts as I find a pair of gray sweat pants and slip them over my bare hips. He pulls on a pair of jeans and then his white t-shirt while I pull on the black t-shirt he’s lent me. I head back to the bathroom and find a comb in a drawer and run it through my hair. I look at myself in the mirror and smile. I’m swimming in his clothing, and I smell like him, and I’ve never been happier.