by Ella Fields
Aiden’s hand squeezed mine, and as the guitar intro to “Hands Down” started, he glanced over at me. “No way,” he said. “It feels like it’s been years since I’ve listened to this song.”
“Me too.” It hadn’t been that long, but it sure felt like it. “My brother wasn’t a fan and used to poke fun at me.”
Aiden mock gasped, and I giggled like a fucking sixteen-year-old.
We settled into the song, but when the chorus hit the second time, I almost jumped out of my seat when Aiden belted it out at the top of his lungs.
I doubled over laughing. How someone could look so good when they were doing something they were so terrible at, I didn’t know, but at that moment, I knew I more than adored him. I felt more than a lot of things for him. Things that terrified and revived.
A love that rivaled another.
Dragging my eyes forward, I gave in and joined him for the last leg of the song.
Aiden, sucking in a loud breath, lowered the volume of “Arabella” by the Arctic Monkeys before we turned down my street. “Well, here goes nothing.”
I smacked his arm, smiling. “Shush. You’ve already met them.”
“I love it when you shush me.”
I pointed at the house on the left where my dad’s truck sat in the drive, ignoring the nudge in my gut and that pull from the house sitting across the street.
Digging stubborn claws in, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on my own house, and grinned when I saw the snowman Dad said he’d lost years ago half-lit up and moving side to side in the garden.
The sun had set, and we were welcomed with hugs, claps on Aiden’s back, and a grin from Dad before we ventured inside.
“What happened to the snowman?” I asked, gesturing for Aiden, who was holding our duffels, to follow me down the hall to my room.
“Well, he’d been shoved up against an eave in the attic, so, uh, half the lights were smashed.” Dad scratched the back of his head. “He’s back now. That’s all that matters, right?”
A soft laugh left me, and we put our things away in my room before joining Mom and Dad in the dining room for dinner.
We were halfway through our meals, discussing some of the classes I was taking this semester and Aiden’s upcoming training, when Dad brought the conversation to an abrupt halt. “Hendrix’s room is free.”
“Dad,” I tried not to growl.
Mom slapped his arm, scowling. “She’s twenty. And I hate to break it to you, but they’ve been dating a while, Brad.”
Looking at Aiden, Dad winced, muttering what sounded like a string of fucks under his breath.
Turning to Aiden, I found his eyes alight with humor. “I’ll sleep wherever. Couch is fine, too.” He nodded for emphasis. “Really.”
Mom’s expression warmed. “That won’t be necessary. We trust you’ll be on your best behavior while you’re here.”
Aiden took Hendrix’s room, and I scowled at Dad, shaking my head as I stood in the hall and brushed my teeth. He tipped his hands up, then disappeared to his and Mom’s room at the other end of the house. “Nice to have you home, Stevie girl.”
Grumbling, I returned to the bathroom and spat, then washed my face. I waited one minute before I tapped on Hendrix’s door.
Aiden jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the floor, throwing Hendrix’s soccer ball. He dropped it and followed me out and past the bathroom to my room.
He was on me as soon as the lock clicked over. “I want to respect their wishes, but first, I just need something to tide me over.”
“You’re not respecting anything,” I said, my breathing ragged as he yanked my nightgown off, my nipples beading under his hooded inspection. “Except my need to have you with me.” I gripped his head, meshing my lips to his. “Deep inside me, wrapped around me …” I licked his upper lip, then bit it. “All night.”
“My Petal’s wish is my command.” He picked me up and tossed me onto the bed, then reached for his shirt while I reached for him.
The silver potted cacti that still resided on my windowsill glinted in the moonlight, and my desperation grew as an unwelcome sensation seeped in.
Flipping me to my stomach, Aiden spread my thighs and ass cheeks, raising me just enough to slide inside before falling over me to interlock our fingers. “Deep enough?”
He knew it wasn’t. “Deeper.”
He rose and sat down. I turned, and he tugged me over him, holding himself at my entrance, depthless eyes boring into mine as I sank down, the moan I tried to keep inside slipping free.
He stole my lips. “Quiet,” he rasped, sucking on them.
“I’m trying,” I panted.
He pushed me back, holding me there, and used his other hand to reach between us. “Right there?”
I struggled to nod. He was pushing and pulling my body off and onto his. “Yes.”
His finger moved down, finding where we connected, and we both groaned as he stole some of the slickness and used it to toy with me again.
He ducked his head, leaning over to take my nipple. “Right there?”
“Aiden, fuck.”
“There, then,” he said, wicked satisfaction in his voice as he rocked his hips to the rhythm mine were hunting and continued to torture me with his tongue, body, and fingers.
I came apart, and he dropped me to the bed, my vision hazy and his mouth latching over mine to keep me quiet. Hard and furious, he pounded into me, then pulled out, coming all over my stomach.
The sight of him doing what he was doing… what he had done in this very room over two years ago, caused a twinge in my chest. But when I looked up, saw Aiden’s head fall back as he emptied stream after stream of himself over my skin, his throat cording and his impressive chest heaving, the twinge fled, and I pulled him down to me.
“Petal, shit.” He chuckled, semen sticking to both our stomachs.
“I love you, Prince.” I kissed each corner of his mouth while he fought to catch his breath.
When he did, he smoothed some hair back from my face, eyes sated but still luminous in the dark room. “Music to my fucking ears.”
Christmas morning was quiet compared to what years of memories conjured.
After gorging on large stacks of blueberry pancakes for breakfast, we took our coffee into the living room and opened presents.
Mom and Dad had gotten Aiden socks to use when he played, and after rummaging through his bathroom cabinet, searching for his cologne, I’d given Mom the name, and they’d bought him some more of that too.
I’d balked when I’d seen Armani stamped over the glass bottle, but Mom quickly said thank you and hung up before I could protest further.
I piled my stationery, body lotions, perfume, and paperbacks with Aiden’s presents in my room, returning to find the living room empty.
“He’s been abducted.”
“Shit.” I joined Mom by the window to peek into the backyard.
Dad was gesturing to the half-built gazebo, his eyes bright, while Aiden tilted his head, appearing invested in what he was being shown.
Perhaps he was, though I’d never seen him show a lot of interest in woodwork or any kind of construction. I made a mental note to ask him about it when we had a quiet moment.
“You look happy,” Mom said a while later, peeling carrots and potatoes by the sink for lunch.
“I am,” I admitted, and the buoyance, the ease in which I’d admitted those words reaffirmed it. “He’s incredible.”
“He adores you,” Mom said, eyes on her task.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and seated myself at the dining table, my finger drifting over the familiar, time-worn grooves and scratches in the wood. “I love him,” I said quietly, then laughed. “I never thought I’d be able to…” I trailed off.
Mom smiled over at me. “All it takes is the right person, and it can happen again and again and again.”
I nodded, contemplating whether to admit something to her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Do you think you can fall for two different men, I mean really fall for them, and love them both at the same time?”
Silence lingered for a minute. “So you haven’t stopped.”
Not a question, and my eyes began to burn. It was a betrayal, but one I couldn’t stop. One I was trying to ignore and move past. It had been easy for a while, as long as I didn’t pick at the wound. “No.” I tried to clear the gathering thickness in my throat. “I think it’s unlikely I ever will.”
Mom let that sit there for a minute before responding. “That doesn’t mean you can’t give yourself to someone else. And who knows,” she said, her voice low. “Maybe, with time, it’ll fade. One love becomes louder than the other.”
“Louder than the other,” I repeated. After a few moments of digesting that, I felt the need to reassure her. “I’m okay. I’m not devastated over him anymore. I just… it’s still there, and being home makes its presence known.”
Mom nodded, tossing the scraps after dumping the vegetables onto a tray to go into the oven. “Time, Stevie. All things take time.” She paused, hands on the counter as she locked me in place with one of her assessing looks. “It’s good to see you move on, though. As much as we love Everett, he just isn’t capable of looking at you the way Aiden does. And you deserve to not only be looked at in that way, but also to be treated as if nothing is more important than you.” She straightened. “You deserve to be someone’s entire world. Their first and only choice.”
I swiped at a traitorous tear. “I know.” And I did know, but when the heart was desperate, it was capable of ignoring whatever it needed to.
When lunch was ready, Aiden and Dad came back inside. Aiden cracked open a beer and while offering one to Dad, informed him he was twenty-one, which made me smother a laugh. Mom cranked the carols up and sang along, her hips swaying as she delivered all the food to the table.
Dad waved Aiden off, taking the beer with a nod of thanks, then his seat next to Mom.
“Have you seen what he’s built out there?” Aiden asked, drizzling gravy over my ham and vegetables before doing the same to his plate. “It’s going to be good enough to sleep under.”
“You know where you’ll be staying next time, then,” Dad said, chuckling when Aiden shook his head.
“Make sure it’s finished, and you might just have yourself a deal.” Aiden took a swig of beer, then glanced at me. “We can drag some sleeping bags out there. Maybe a blow-up mattress…” Lost in the excitement that glazed his eyes, shining in the dizzying wonder of his smile, I was about to nod when the front door opened with a bang.
“Well, that’s why there was no welcoming committee,” Hendrix yelled over the music. He turned the stereo down on the counter, and the rest of the band entered the room.
Dad almost choked on his beer as he set it down with a thud. It dribbled down his chin and beard. Standing, he wiped it away and greeted them all, Mom joining him.
And when Everett’s form hovered in the entryway, clad in a torn white T-shirt, jeans, and combat boots, his hair reaching his shoulders and stubble drowning his rugged jaw, I did choke.
I never thought I’d see those green eyes contain that much emotion. The likes of which I couldn’t even begin to name.
Aiden thumped me on the back, then rubbed it and handed me my glass of water.
Only when my lungs had recovered did Aiden turn around to take in the man whose gaze I could feel on my profile.
I swapped the water for Aiden’s beer and drained it.
Everyone pulled up a chair, even some new guy, who I struggled to recognize.
He reached over the table, offering his hand to us. “Rupert, or just Rupe. New bass player.”
“Bass player?” I questioned, shaking his hand.
“Yeah, the guys held auditions while they were staying in my hometown of Glass Lake.” He snatched a roll off the table, tearing off a chunk. “I watched every show, three nights a week, and so when I saw they were looking for someone, I just about pissed myself.”
Mom’s nose wrinkled, but she forced a smile when he glanced her way.
I looked over at Hendrix, who was seated next to Dad, his gaze avoiding mine as he said, “I was sick of it. Need to finally bust out the riffs I’ve spent half my life playing.”
I felt Everett’s stare like a weight sitting on my shoulders.
Aiden was concentrating on his food, but his nonchalant expression didn’t fool me. The stiffness to his body screamed of displeasure.
Yet I couldn’t stop myself from watching when Everett pulled out a stool at the kitchen counter and folded his large frame on it.
Riddled with scrutiny, his eyes skittered over everyone at the table, but they always returned to me, where they stayed the longest. When I caught them, and the veil of betrayal and anger fell, I saw the regret.
And I knew, this new bass player had nothing to do with Hendrix and his ego, and everything to do with Everett getting too drunk to play and sing at the same time.
I dragged my eyes away and forced down the food on my plate that suddenly had no taste.
Graham stood then and stabbed a finger at Aiden. “Okay, I can’t handle it anymore. I know you from somewhere.”
Aiden set down his fresh beer, giving Graham his attention.
Graham scratched at his jaw, his brows shaping. “Oh fuck. You play ball?”
“Baseball, yeah.” Aiden’s voice was gruff, but maybe only to my ears.
Graham clapped his hands. “My dad’s a huge college ball follower. He’s been watching every game they air of yours since you started.”
“Wow, man.” Aiden flashed him a genuine grin. “You tell your old man I said thanks.”
Graham sighed. “He’s not talking to me. I kind of ditched a full ride to hang with these shitheads.”
“Speak for yourself,” Hendrix mumbled, shoving a piece of ham in his mouth, eyeing Aiden with obvious curiosity.
Graham’s eyes grew. “Wait a minute, I bet if you signed something for him, he’d at least look at me.”
Aiden sat back, relaxing a little in his chair as he chuckled. “Sure.”
I kept my eyes off Everett and placed my hand on Aiden’s thigh beneath the table as I watched him sign a reindeer napkin with a Sharpie Hendrix had plucked from his back pocket.
“You guys just carry Sharpies around now?” I tried to joke as Aiden capped the marker.
Hendrix finally looked at me. “You’ve stopped hooking up with your brother’s friends now?”
Dad cussed so violently, everyone at the table fell quiet.
“Well, shit, Sandrine. Just lay it all out there, why don’t ya?” Dale said, getting up and clipping him over the head. “Get over it already. You’d screw her friends in a heartbeat.”
“Would fucking not,” Hendrix protested. “Besides, it’s different.”
“How?” I challenged.
“How?” Hendrix repeated. “Because Everett is practically family.”
“Hell and holy shit on a fuck,” Dad spewed. “You…” He coughed, struggling to look at me. “You and Everett?”
“On that note,” Graham said, grinning from ear to ear with his napkin in hand. “We’ll be going. Families who hate us to see and all that fun shit. Come on, Dale.”
“What about the new guy?” Dale asked, pocketing his phone.
The new guy was eating another bread roll. “I’m good here or on the bus.” Dad sent him a glare that had him saying, “On second thought, I’m great at charming the parents. Let me come with.”
“I knew it,” Dad said, a tad too triumphantly. “I tried to tell you, Brenna, but you wouldn’t even hear it.” He mumbled something about, “Telling me there’s raccoon’s in the goddamned attic.”
Aiden’s thigh turned to concrete beneath my hand, and I pulled it away.
Mom rolled her eyes and took a huge swig of wine.
Everett’s gaze was still fixed on me, unwavering and turbulent.
I dropped my head into my hands.
“Merry fucking Christmas, fam-bam,” Hendrix sang at the top of his lungs.
Aiden dug his tongue into his cheek as soon as the door to my room shut behind him. His hand rose, lips parting, as he tried to formulate words.
This happened over and over while I stood there, my chest and head hurting.
“Shit. Fucking shit, Stevie,” was all he finally came up with.
“I didn’t know they’d be here, Aiden.”
He paced the short length of my room, arm flexing as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “I know. Doesn’t change the fact they’re here, though, does it?”
I sat on my bed. “We couldn’t ignore them forever.”
Aiden didn’t seem to agree, his hand slapping to his side. “It would’ve been nice to try.”
I said nothing, staring at the specks littering the brown carpet of my room.
Eventually, he joined me, and we both lay down on my bed, not touching, and staring up at the glow worms on the ceiling.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to stare at them either.
Orange mingled with pink over my bedroom walls, and I forced my eyes open as noise drifted through the ajar bedroom door.
Aiden must’ve draped the knitted afghan over me, but as I sat up, pushing hair back from my face, I couldn’t see him.
Panic sharpened until I saw his duffel sitting next to mine by my sticker-covered wardrobe and heard the unmistakable deep sound of his laughter from down the hall.
What a mess. A tangled, acrid mess.
I used the bathroom, then went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before gathering the courage to enter where the noise emanated from in the living room.
Hendrix, Mom, and Aiden were chatting and laughing, but there was no sign of Everett and Dad.
I smiled at Aiden when he flashed me a questioning look, and then I went in search of Dad, who was undoubtedly pissed.
Low voices filtered through the crack of the front door, and the orange glow of a cigarette caught my eye. I peeked out and saw Everett’s shadow in a deck chair on the lawn near the bus. Dad was sitting in another chair beside him, nursing a beer.