Fret (The Recoil Rock Series Book 4)

by K E Osborn

  “Sharing is caring. Plus, I have a feeling we’re going to be in each other’s lives a lot, so you may as well know my cycle so you can tell when I’ll be in a good mood and all that.”

  Nate grunts and moves awkwardly.

  “Umm… nooo, nope, no,” Nate says raising his hands in the air as Matt chuckles while shaking his head.

  “You should have a calendar on the wall in the gallery with it all marked in fire engine red. Alex’s do not disturb dates or something,” Matt teases.

  I giggle and nod. “Yes, I like this. I can tell you’re an ideas man, Matt. A week during the month on the calendar at work, where it’s just smeared out—”

  “Okay! Stop! You two are way too into this. And there will be no such weird artwork on the calendar at work, I don’t need to know your… stuff, Alex. I’m all good with that part of womanliness—”

  “Womanliness?” Alex chuckles.

  “But I don’t need to know about it… any of it. Just have the week off. I don’t care. Do what you gotta do. Just fucking don’t do shit to my calendar,” Nate demands, appearing downright uncomfortable and awkward, whereas Matt appears like he’s finding this as ridiculously hilarious as I am.

  With a loud chuckle, I reach over and pat Nate’s arm. “It’s all good, Natesicles. Don’t worry, I’m on the depo, I don’t even get a period.”

  He opens his eyes wide and grunts. “Oh my God, then why the hell are we even having this conversation?”

  Matt chuckles shaking his head.

  “Because I like to make you squirm. And it’s worked a treat.”

  “Fucking hell, is this what the next year of my life with you is going to be like?”

  I smile wide and nod. “Yep. All awkward conversations and me teasing you until you break. Can you handle it?” I ask, picking up my glass and having a sip.

  Nate sits back in his chair. “Fuck, this is gonna be a long ass year.”

  “I like this chick,” Matt announces. “You’re all right by me, Alex.” He raises his glass, and I clink mine to his. Our eyes connect, and for a moment, a brief moment, energy surges through me. It’s like something unspoken is said between us. I’m just not sure what. My stomach flips as I look into his green eyes, the flecks of gold starting to shine through the more I look at him, and my body bursts out into a smothering of goosebumps. A shiver runs down my spine, and my body shudders. I see him move in the same way I do, and we both look away at the same time. My breath catches as I quickly take a long gulp of my stout, trying to calm the raging sea in my stomach.

  “So, tomorrow Alex?” Nate asks making me look up at him.

  “Yes, tomorrow… we’re back at the gallery. You paint. I sell. And we work our little tushies off again. We got this shit, boss.”

  “Thanks for today, Alex, you really are a godsend.”

  I scoff, waving my hand in the air. “Nah, just was well taught, and I’m kinda charming. I could sell ice to Eskimos, fire to Satan, all that kinda shit. Gift of the gab and what not.”

  “Well, I’m very happy Ria sent you to me.”

  “Me too. Aww… group hug!” I call out and lunge forward grabbing both Nate and Matt around their necks pulling them into a hug across the table. They both laugh and wrap their strong arms around my tiny waist. The hug is awkward, seeing as there’s a small table between us, but I don’t care. We’re bonding, and seeing as I’m going to be spending a hell of a lot of time with these guys over the next year, I need to be able to get along with them well.

  I pull back as they laugh at me and sit back down on my seat picking up my glass and drinking the last of it.

  “You’re so happy…” Nate says, his eyes firm on mine. “With everything you’ve been through, Alex, to be still upbeat in life, I don’t know how you do it. I’m going through a breakup and I’m struggling, but you’ve been through so much worse…”

  I can’t help but notice Matt’s eyes droop with sadness for his twin.

  Sighing, I shrug. “Life is shit, Nate. It fucks with you, it messes with your head, it royally screws you over—”

  “Well, this got deep,” Matt murmurs.

  I glance at him but continue, “But, in saying that, if you let the fucked-up-ed-ness of life mess with you, then you’re gonna drown. Don’t let the water invade your lungs. Spit that motherfucking water out, pull the plug, let it drain down the plug hole and buy some fucking vodka to drink instead, and show that water who the goddamn boss is. Because if you let that water drown you, it will swallow you whole… you see what I’m saying?”

  He tilts his head. “Don’t let it get on top of you?”

  I smile weakly. “Even though everything feels like it’s too much, don’t let the pressure weigh you down. Keep smiling, and eventually, one day, the smile will be real. It won’t be forced, it won’t be hard to put on because it will be real and from a place of truth. It won’t happen quickly, but if you keep pushing, it will happen, Nate. Nothing’s effortless, and I know breakups are hard, but… keep smiling, it actually might help.”

  He nods as Matt glances at me, raising his eyebrow like he’s studying me. I try to ignore him as I keep my focus on my boss and friend. “Plus, we’re here to help you through. So when you feel like you can’t smile, tell me, and I’ll make Matt dress up in a tutu or something.”

  They both burst out laughing, as they agitate their heads in the exact same way. Twins, huh.

  “Thanks, Alex, you’re quite insightful for a pixie,” Nate says.

  “I’m quite a many things, Natesicles.”

  “Can you stop calling me that?” He chuckles, and I grin widely.

  “Hmmm, maybe… if you’re nice. Right, let’s go. I need tacos, burritos, and cheesy fiesta potatoes to soak up the alcohol. Stat!”

  Matt laughs and nods. “Taco Bell drive through it is!”

  Nate chuckles, downing the last of his stout and we all stand up and head for the door. I notice the security detail that followed us in, also follows us out. That’s something I’m not used to, but I guess it’s kinda cool to have The Rock and the Hulk lookalikes standing near you all the time. It’s added safety, and that’s always a good thing when you add celebrities into the mix. We walk out to the car and I smile as the twilight air hits my face. It’s a chilly night, and a shudder runs over me as Matt steps up next to me.

  “You all good?” he asks, and I look up to him and nod.

  “Yep.” My voice comes out all squeaky and mousey. What the fuck?

  He chuckles and opens the rear door for me. “Such a gentleman.” I slide across the back seat and he glides in next to me, then Nate and the two security guards get in front and start up the car.

  “To Taco Bell please, Dwayne,” Matt directs, and I turn to Matt leaning into him closely. Our shoulders touching completely.

  “Are you telling me that the guy that looks like The Rock is named Dwayne?” I whisper, and he nods with a giant smirk.

  I throw my head back against the headrest and giggle while he smirks at me.

  With my hands full of takeout bags from Taco Bell, the car pulls out of the drive thru and back out onto the highway.

  “Okay, where to,” Dwayne asks.

  “Wanna drop me off first?” I ask, and the guys nod. “Great. Can you drop me off at Alameda Street,” I tell him, and Nate’s eyes light up.

  “You’re kidding?” he asks.

  “Nope.”

  Matt furrows his brows. “What’s so strange about Alameda Street?”

  “It’s in the Art District.”

  I nod, of course, Nate would know.

  “There’s an Art District?” Matt asks.

  “Matt, not an Art District, the Art District of LA! Let me explain… the Art District has given life to industrial buildings that date back to the early twentieth century. The art has slowly been done, mostly behind closed doors, but the street scene has come to life. Art galleries and museums have opened up creating a large art presence in the area. She lives in the world I’m a
part of. This is amazing! I come here to buy my supplies,” he tells me, and I light up instantly.

  “This is how I knew we would get along so well, Nate!” I say, and he nods his head.

  “Sooo… you live in a really cool part of LA then?” Matt questions.

  “Yeah, it’s kind of cool.” I giggle as Dwayne pulls down Sunset Boulevard heading toward my place.

  “So what are you fine young cannonballs doing tonight?” I ask.

  Nate laughs. “I think you’ll find it’s Fine Young Cannibals,” he smirks. “We’ll head home and have some dinner. I’ll check in with Oliver for what’s on task for tomorrow, and Nate will get some rest because he has a lot of painting to do now, right?”

  I scoff. “Cannibals… what? Why the fuck would they call themselves that? That’s just weird. But I digress. Yes, Nate, rest up and get ready to work. I’m gonna be pushing you hard to produce new work for the gallery and quickly.”

  They both look happy as the car pulls into the Art District—my home. Sure the buildings are industrial and old, but fuck if the artwork on them doesn’t make up for it. It’s dark, so it’s hard to see the raw beauty of the streets as they flash past outside the car, but everywhere is lined with colorful art. Each building alive and screaming with vibrant masterpieces. Nate is beside me admiring the beauty, while Matt sits with his eyes as wide as his mouth.

  “Holy shit, this is an artist’s paradise,” Matt murmurs.

  “It sure is. Up here on the left, the building with the giant giraffe mural on it, Dwayne,” I instruct, but he doesn’t reply pulling up to the curb at the edge of the street.

  My building is only three stories, but it’s an old factory that’s been converted into apartments. It’s so cool because inside looks like a warehouse too. I love my apartment, and because this isn’t usually a housing zone the rent is quite reasonable. Most places in the district are galleries and museums. Plus, there’s the usual shops and industrial places too. So housing is not the norm around here. I’m just one of the lucky ones who managed to get hold of one of the very few apartments available in the district. We all file out of the car, me with my umpteen bags of food, and the guys with large staring eyes. We all stand at the edge of the footpath looking up at the mural on the building.

  “Who painted this, Alex?” Nate asks.

  I smirk. “Me.”

  He opens his eyes wide and scoffs. “Shit, really?”

  I nod as Matt smiles. “She sells art, and she makes it.”

  “I’m a woman of many hidden talents, Matthew,” I respond. “Including stuffing my face. Anyway I love you guys, but I love food more. So adios amigos… thanks for a good night and great day. See you tomorrow, Natesicles. And Matt… I’ll ah… see ya round?”

  Matt nods with a shy smile and looks to the painting on the wall once more. “Maybe you should let Alex paint some stuff at the gallery too, Nate?” Matt suggests, and I tense up.

  “Oh no, that’s Nate’s gallery, not mine. Anyway my stomach’s agrowlin’, have a good night, twinsies.” I turn heading for the building’s door. My hands are full with Taco Bell bags, but somehow I manage to fumble and get my keys out of my handbag. I turn back and watch as the brothers get into the car. Smiling, I head inside and up the stairs toward my apartment. The view from the third floor is amazing and I love it, but sometimes, on nights like tonight, with my hands full and when I’ve had a few drinks, the stairs are a bitch!

  Traipsing up the three flights. I groan once I reach my door. The key goes into the lock easily and I turn it with a click. Thrusting the door open with a gentle kick, I step inside the giant room. Basically, it’s one massive open area with everything in it I could possibly need. The night sky floods in through the floor to ceiling window, and I take in the silver streaks from the moon. Using my elbow, I flick on the light switch, and the filament light globes that hang from the exposed beams of the roof hum to life with an amber glow, and they fill the room with a blissful sparkle. It fills me with such warmth.

  My home, it’s so me. Every inch of it. From the incredible artistry on the exposed brick walls to the open black bookshelves attached to the bricks. The gray sofa that has brightly colored cushions scattered on it, to the metal fabricated dining table, and the plush faux fur rug on the floor under the coffee table in the shape of an apostrophe.

  Why? Why not?

  My bed is an unpretentious queen antique white Victorian metal, with simple silver bedding. I like to have color in my life in all aspects, it makes me feel, it wakes me up, but when I go to bed I like to be calm and tranquil, so I void myself of color and anything that might cause my brain to be stimulated. Otherwise, I think too much and can’t sleep.

  The kitchen area is mainly steel, wood, and brick. There’s a small sink, a dishwasher, and an oven, with a giant L-shaped bench against the wall. Which comes in handy. In the back corner I have my little artist area, where I paint and draw—I call it my free spirit section where I turn on my music and just let things happen. That’s where the most color is located in the apartment. There’s a giant work desk, packed full of paints and brushes, easels and canvases. It’s my area to unwind and lose myself in my passion.

  I like it there, although, I don’t think I’ll get to spend much time there seeing as I’m working so much for Nate now, but that’s cool. Work keeps me busy, keeps me distracted, stops me from thinking. Thinking about the past and what happened. I know I need to let that go. What happened. How everything went so terribly wrong for me. But look at me now, everything is turning up, and that’s what I need to focus on. That and the Taco Bell that’s currently going cold in my hands.

  I kick the door closed with my foot and race to the couch kicking off my shoes as I jump onto the plushness of my cushions. “Yessss,” I moan, sinking into the softness and dump the bags onto the coffee table. “Tacos get in me!” I rip open the bags getting ready to devour my dinner, before making a phone call, one I need to make but one I’m not looking forward to at all.

  After spending the next twenty minutes devouring my Mexican feast, I slump back on the sofa, my belly popping out slightly while I sigh with satisfaction. “Man, I love food, but fuck I hate phone calls,” I murmur to myself as I reach over to my cell on the coffee table.

  Throwing my head back onto the overly bright cushion in annoyance, I groan as I dial Ria’s number. It rings a couple of times and then she answers sounding like she was half-asleep.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, overly sickly chicky, how goes it?” I ask, and she half-laughs.

  “You’re chipper tonight. I’m hoping the opening went well?” Ria asks.

  “We’ll get to that. What did the doctor have to say at your appointment today?”

  She groans down the line. “He told me I need to try and eat more. That I’m losing too much weight. But it’s hard to eat when all I do is throw it back up.”

  Rolling my eyes, even though I know she can’t see me. “Well, you know it would be easier if you had someone by your side helping you through all this?”

  “I do Alex… you.”

  I sit up. “You know what I mean. Yes, you know I’m here, and I will always be here for you, of course, but he’s miserable without you. All he wanted today at the opening was to share it with you, Ria.”

  She’s quiet for a short pause—I knew that would make her go into thinking mode. Good. She needs to know that her decisions are having an actual effect on Nate, not just her.

  “Did he manage to enjoy the opening at all?” she finally asks.

  Slumping back into the sofa I answer, “He did. We sold out. The entire collection sold, Ria. The art scene loves him just like you knew they would. It was a smashing success, then the three of us went to Finlay’s for a celebratory drink. The day was good.” I pause for a second or two then continue, “He was sad you weren’t there, but he was happy he did well. It was the win that we wanted, Ria. He’s on the right track.”

  She sighs down the line and is quiet
again for a pass. “Good, I’m so glad. When you say the three of us?”

  I smile thinking of Matt. “His twin. He came to show his support today.”

  “Oh, that’s so good to hear. I like, Matt.”

  Smirking, I lie down into the cushions. “Yeah, so do I.”

  Yesterday was a good day. Spending the day with Nate and getting to know Alex, his new sidekick, turned out to be just what I needed. Alex seems like a whole load of fun. She has so much pep, drive, and energy whereas Annabelle—the fan we met at Finlay's—seemed more calm and natural. Well, before the fandom took hold, I suppose. I’d love to meet a nice girl, I really would. But how the hell am I going to find that someone? It’s not like I can just go to a club and find a girl the normal way. No, I have to do something out of the ordinary if I’m going to be introduced to new women.

  Sighing, I walk into the kitchen, grab Nate’s left over cereal bowl from this morning and place it in the sink. Then I move to the fridge to pull out the milk for my own cereal. That’s when I spot a business card stuck to the door. It’s for Whisper’s Fung Shui, and my memory is jogged when I recall that he once said he was delving into internet dating guidance or something. Closing the fridge door, I take a deep breath wondering if this is something I could really do. Internet dating? I mean plenty of people meet this way, but above all, it means I could have a kind of anonymity in the beginning stages. This could actually work out to be perfect. So I turn around, reach for my cell and dial Whisper’s number seeing as I don’t have to go into the office today.

  Answering the door, my stomach is churning a little. I know I don’t have to go through with this, but at least I can talk to Whisper and see what my options are. I pull the door open, and he stands there wearing his usual monk attire and carrying a tiny bonsai plant along with a packet of what looks like kale chips.

  “Oh, sexy boy, it so good to see you,” he says stepping into the house and walking straight past me into the kitchen area, where he sniffs the air like he’s testing the smell of the house. I should be used to his strange behavior by now, but no, he still surprises me.