by B. Celeste
“He says he’s clean.”
A singular nod is what he gives me. “If he is, he’s using alcohol to compensate. I saw it in rehab. Heard the stories. People turn to new addictions to cope.” His head dips, one hand combing through his hair before he hefts out a sigh. “My counselor told me it was better not to surround myself with addictive things, but I kept drinking until I relapsed a second time.”
“Have you ever thought of…?” Not sure how to finish the sentence, if I have a right to, I let my words fade until he figures out my question.
“Yes.”
The answer causes my heart to drop.
“All addicts think about using again from time to time,” he adds, lifting his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean we go back even if we want to. But, yes, Rylee, I’ve considered it. I have nights where I’ll wake up in an anxiety attack thinking about what will ease my mind enough to loosen me up. Sometimes there are days when I’ve got a million things on my schedule and I want something to wire me up so I can get it all done.
“Addiction isn’t temporary. It’s a disease that I’ll battle for life, one that I’ve seen far too many people in this industry lose. It may be nothing like your condition, but it’s something that helps me resonate with your position. That’s why I want to help if you’ll allow me. Let me be the person who gets you, even if it’ll never be on the same level.”
For a long moment, I struggle to come up with the proper response. There are a million things fighting to escape my brain and slide off the tip of my tongue, but I hold back.
We stare at each other.
Sincerity and need blasting in his eyes.
A sense of understanding in mine.
He needs to be needed, so I say, “Yes.”
And there has never been a more intimate moment in my life like when Garrick gathered what he needed from my room, came back downstairs, and listened to my direction to prep the needle before lifting up my shirt and administering the shot.
He keeps the piece of clothing tucked underneath my bra, bends down, and kisses the needle site once he’s done.
My body shivers.
My thighs tighten.
And when Garrick notices, he simply straightens out my shirt back into place, kisses my cheek, and goes to start dinner.
29
Garrick
“That’s “300 Miles to Heartbreak” by Violet Wonders, the first single from their upcoming album Late Nights. What do you think, Chrissy?”
I’m tempted to turn the station to something else, but I opt to listen instead as I weave through traffic on the 405. I promised Rylee I’d be back before five so we could get dinner, but it’s looking more and more like that’ll have to wait based on the heavy lines of cars surrounding me.
The female cohost says, “It’s a good song, but it looks like it hasn’t even broken the top 10 on most streaming services yet. Usually, the band flies to the number one spot in the first two days. We’re almost done with day one and it’s not looking great for them.”
“Well fuck you, Chrissy,” I grumble, tightening my hold on the wheel and easing into the seat. It isn’t anything I haven’t heard in the first five hours of the single airing. The streams came in hot in heavy in the first two hours, then tapered off.
Back when Violet Wonders first started, we would have been happy just to be in the top 25, where we are right now. But years of experience and promotional tactics tell me that the song isn’t cutting it like we thought when we all agreed on it being the first to share from the selection of sixteen on the album.
“After they cancelled their spot on Hot in Hollywood to clear up any rumors circulating in the media, people have questioned the stability of the band,” a new radio host intervenes. “It’s hard to keep the fans trust if the band isn’t willing to talk.”
“Christ.” Shaking my head, I let out a harsh sigh and slow down among the long line of vehicles around me.
It isn’t like any of us committed a crime or did something unforgiveable. People forget too often that public figures are allowed to say no and change their minds. The second we give too much of ourselves, a pattern is set. That’s when expectations become too high, and society thinks we owe them every piece of ourselves on a silver platter.
I understand why Zayne and the others felt content with the decision to end Violet Wonders the first time. Maybe I thought getting back together would somehow heal old wounds by bonding like we used to, but it’s obvious since we started touring and working on new music again that we’ve all wanted different things.
My solo career was doing fine, better than ever even, before I decided to focus on the band again. Zayne was happy working on cars and saving for his own garage, Jax was off traveling to the few countries we’d never been able to go to like he’d always wanted to do, and Manning and Cal did whatever the hell they wanted. Those two never kept any of us up to date, rarely posting anything online or answering group messages if one of us reached out except to confirm they were alive.
We were all living our lives before I disrupted them. Again.
Zayne was right.
I’m a selfish friend.
Clicking off the radio and driving with only the sounds of city life wrapping around each of my thoughts, I pull into my neighborhood and wave at a few neighbors who’ve always been friendly with me. A few in the industry, but mostly retired actors and actresses with their families. It’s a peaceful area unless people like me cause a scene in the media. I’ve apologized to a couple close neighbors who’ve been in the crossfire that I doubt will be inviting me over in the future considering they barely give me a second look whenever we pass one another now.
I roll up to my gate and smile at Raymond who Mum hired a few months ago after the break in. “Everything okay while I was gone?”
The dark-skinned man nods once. “Yes, sir. Only one person came by, but he didn’t stay long. An hour max. And your wife has company that showed up only half an hour ago.”
Company?
Punching in the gate code, I park in front of the closed garage and smile at the red Volkswagen beside me. There’s a Violet Wonders bumper sticker that Mum’s had on the outdated car since she first purchased it from us. She was our first customer to buy merchandise and a CD and has the pictures to prove it.
When I walk inside, I’m not sure what I’ll find. But what I do has me cracking the biggest smile as I keep my distance and watch Mum listen attentively to Rylee as she shows her how to pot a plant. There’s plastic covering the floor with a large ceramic pot that I bought per my wife’s request sitting in the center of it, along with dirt and the remanence of an old plastic pot that I imagine the green plant came from that’s being tended to by the two women kneeling beside it.
Mum used to garden way back, but her job didn’t let her keep it up because she was always busy. Yasmin would always hound her about letting the plants die, but Mum’s green thumb is as about as vibrant as mine in its lack of existence. Her priorities were Chase, me, and keeping her boss happy with the extra hours she always put in.
Leaning my shoulder against the wall, I cross my arms over my chest and say, “Looks like you two have been busy.”
They both look up at me, Mum smiling, Rylee startled. My wife says, “I didn’t hear you come in.”
I push off the wall and set my things down on the couch before crouching beside her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”
Mum says, “I heard there was an accident near Gables that backed everything up. It took Yasmin an extra 45 minutes to get home.”
Rylee frowns. “Wasn’t her daughter’s ballet recital today?” The nod Mum gives her in reply deepens her frown. “I hope she got there on time. She was excited.”
I rub her back. “I’m sure it worked out, love. Shauna’s recitals usually don’t start until six and her school isn’t far from their home.”
Relief floods her eyes.
I turn to the plant. “What is this a
nyway?”
“It’s a peace lily,” Rylee explains, touching the large white petal. “They’re easy to maintain, so I thought it might be fun to give to your mom since she’s been wanting to try keeping houseplants again.”
My brows go up in doubt, but Mum cuts in with, “Rylee said that they’re hard to kill, so it’s the perfect plant for me.”
I roll my eyes. “Remember what happened to that succulent Yasmin gave you years ago when you told her you wanted to start collecting houseplants?”
Mum sighs. “She never told me I had to water it every two weeks. I thought they didn’t need to be watered that often. And the only reason she gave me that was because it was called an Old Lady Cactus.”
I snort. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
She smacks my arm. “Be nice to your mother. I birthed your big ten-pound body naturally. You owe me.”
Rylee makes a choking sound. “Ten pounds?”
Mum’s nod is grave. “Afraid so. I’d be prepared for when you two decide to have some of your own. His father’s side has been known to produce large babies.”
I try to ignore the ashen look on Rylee’s face as I pat her hand. “Try not to scare my wife, yeah?”
The shrug I get doesn’t tell me she won’t be bringing it up again anytime soon. But she relents with a subject change. “Speaking of the Australian devil, have you heard from him?”
Her nickname for my father still makes me laugh. “Not since the other day. He mentioned possibly coming here to visit.”
That gets a reaction. “Did he now?”
I know they still check in with each other every so often, but there’s definitely no love lost between them. The day the divorce papers were finalized, we’d packed our things and caught a flight to sunny California. At the time, I’d been reluctant to leave Dad behind, but he promised to stay in touch. He’s kept his word, even if Mum would get heated whenever the time difference impacted our sleep schedules.
“It’s not set in stone,” I add, knowing what she must think of even the possibility. He was dead set against coming to California to live, and not once has he visited. We’d done video calls and I’d taken flights to see him during summers when I was still in school. But all that changed when Violet Wonders made it. We saw each other less and less, heard from each other even fewer times, and when we did connect it was never for long because I was always being pushed and prodded somewhere else.
Dad’s pride has always been his biggest downfall, and the only reason he’s been against flying here is because it’s the very reason our family is split. Owning up to that is something he’s never fully done, even if he’s apologized to me in the past.
I’m not the one who really deserves his apology though, and I think he knows it.
Rylee clears her throat. “We’re all set here, so I can get this all cleaned up and we can grab dinner. Manning and Cal stopped in earlier and asked if you’d be down to meet up somewhere tonight.”
“As a group?”
A shoulder lifts. “He said he’d catch you later. I thought he probably would have called you to make plans, so you’d let me know what’s up.”
I shake my head in exasperation. “You’ll learn soon enough that’s not how they roll.”
Mum agrees. “Those boys need a better head on their shoulders. They need schedules.”
While I agree, I still defend them the best I can out of understanding. “They’re enjoying time off a schedule since we’re usually tied to one with touring and promotion.”
That doesn’t appease my mother. “I still think there’s a lot of growing up to be done there. You know I love those boys but…” She shakes her head. “And when on earth are they going to stop pretending they’re not playing house together? I swear, I’ve been waiting for them to come clean for years.”
I choke on nothing but air the same time Rylee asks, “What?”
Pausing the cleanup, Mum stares at both of us with a hand on her hip. “How many adult men live together for this long? Those two have been inseparable since the band got together, and it’s not because they’re best friends. They travel together, they do everything together. The fact that you—” Her eyes dart to me in narrowed slits. “—don’t even see that makes me wonder how observant you are about other things.”
Her implication still rattles me. “What other things do you think I’m missing?”
Rylee grabs a broom from the cleaning closet and walks over, carefully watching me and Mum as my mother sighs at my obvious confusion.
Mum’s eyes go to Rylee, then back at me with a secretive smile. “Sweet boy, I think I’ll let you figure it all out on your own. It’ll certainly be more entertaining for me.”
She goes back to helping fold the plastic that contains a majority of the mess while I stare dumbfounded at the accusation.
How the hell didn’t I see something so obvious all these years?
Rylee walks over and puts her hand on my arm, offering me a small smile. “It doesn’t change anything,” she tells me quietly.
I nod slowly, mindlessly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I’d realized sooner. If Cal and Manning are…” Why is it hard to say? I love those guys like they’re my brothers. It doesn’t matter what they are to each other because they’re still like family to me regardless. “Do you think Zayne and Jax know?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. But you’ve had a lot going on. It’s not the end of the world if you didn’t know, especially if they didn’t outright say anything. Maybe they don’t want anybody to know until they’re comfortable.”
“But why?” I ask aloud, more to myself than to Rylee or Mum. If it’s because they didn’t trust me with the truth then I’d feel like a bigger piece of shit than I already do. “It has to be because of what Zayne said.”
“What about what Zayne said?”
“I’m selfish.”
“Garrick—”
“I was always a selfish friend,” I state, no point in denying it. “I may not be as bad now, but Zayne was right. Cal and Manning probably didn’t want to tell me because they didn’t think I’d care. Or they think I’d react badly.”
“But you won’t. You wouldn’t.”
I shake my head. “No, I wouldn’t. I want them to be happy, Ry. No matter how they get to be. That’s all I want for any of the guys. They’re important to me.”
She smiles. “Then maybe you should tell them that sometime. It’ll probably mean a lot to them if they knew.”
I know she’s right.
But Christ, what else have I missed?
I look at Rylee.
Then my mother.
A lot, apparently.
I’m sitting in the backyard listening to music coming from the speakers attached to the side of the house when the door slides open. Eyes moving over my shoulder, I smile as Rylee approaches in another one of my t-shirts and a pair of leggings.
“I’m starting to think you don’t have enough shirts of your own,” I muse, tugging on the cotton when she’s close enough. “Your husband should really take better care of you. Buy you clothing. Things that make you happy.”
She gasps when I tug her down until her body falls on mine. I readjust us so she’s sitting between my legs with her back against my chest, my arms wrapped around her front as I use the top of her head as a chinrest.
Once we’re settled, she says, “Maybe I like stealing your clothes to wear.”
“Do you, now?”
She hums.
Smiling, I peck her head. “It’s every guy’s fantasy seeing their girl wearing their clothes.”
Sitting back, she looks up at me. “I thought guys preferred seeing us out of them?”
Instantly, my cock responds to her words, and there’s no doubt she can feel it prod her. “It’s fifty-fifty. I’d definitely love seeing you without a stitch on, love. But I’m in no hurry.”
Her eyes ghost over my face, lids fluttering before she straightens and uses my shoulder to rest her head
. “Do you miss being with women who go after what they want without hesitating? Because I don’t think that’ll ever be me.”
It doesn’t take a brainiac to know she’s insecure, so I squash it then and there. “You seemed to know what you wanted when you pulled off my sweatpants the other night and used your mouth to—”
“You know what I mean,” she cuts me off, and I know the high pitch of her tone means her face is probably red.
My arms squeeze her to me. “Those girls made it too easy, Ry. There was no challenge. It was all too predictable day in and day out. You may not believe it, but I don’t miss that at all. In fact, I never liked it all that much.”
“You sure seemed to,” she grumbles under her breath.
I chuckle to myself. “Yeah, well I wasn’t always that way. I liked to get in, get off, and get the hell out as soon as I could. I was selfish.”
“And now?”
My lips find her temple, then trail down to her ear where I whisper, “Oh, I still love to get in and get off. I just enjoy exploring the landscape thoroughly first.”
She shivers when I nip her ear.
My fingers dance along her stomach and stop at her lower waist, just above the waistband of her leggings. “Are you wet for me, Rylee?”
A sharp breath escapes her. “I always am when I’m around you.”
Internally, I groan. If she knows what she does to me on a regular basis, then we’re even.
I pepper kisses along her neck and murmur, “Interesting.”
“You love that word.”
I love you, I nearly say, swallowing them before the moment breaks.
Shaking it off, I hiss when she wiggles and rubs against my erection.
“We could do something about that,” I propose, nipping above her pulse and dipping my tongue out where my teeth pressed into her skin.