Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
RAINE
“ S hould I be prepared for anything specific?” Everett asks as he removes the keys from the car’s ignition.
“Other than an interrogation?” I quip. “Not that I know of.”
“So, I’m going in blind. Noted .”
I rub my sweaty palms on my thighs and remind him, “You’re the one who decided to walk into Etch ‘N’ Ink when I specifically told you to wait outside. And after the way I kept my family in the dark when it came to my dating life, I don’t think my dad’s gonna let you off the hook until he officially gets to know you. The good news is my sister had a baby a few weeks ago, so my mom’s at her house, helping with my niece, which means you’ll only meet my dad?—”
“Whom I already met.”
“And my older brother, Dodge,” I finish. “He’s the one you have to impress.” Hesitating, I turn to face Everett fully. “Which, now that I think about it, will be pretty impossible, so don’t get your feelings hurt if he’s an ass.”
Everett’s mouth twitches. “Your brother’s an ass?”
“My brother’s my dad’s son,” I clarify. “And even though my dad’s mellowed out over the years,”—Everett scoffs, but I ignore it—“Dodger’s holding strong to his assholery phase. Actually, I should give my dad more credit. Maybe it’s less of his genes and more of Dodge’s career choice. Being a rockstar is pretty much the quickest way to inflate a guy’s ego, and Dodge is… Dodge .”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Everett eyes the front of SeaBird warily. “Although, you’re not exactly making it easy to walk in there.”
“Why? Afraid they won’t like you?” I tease.
“It’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
My brows raise. To be honest, I didn’t think Everett was afraid of anything. Did I find a chink in his armor?
When he catches me staring, he asks, “What?”
“Nothing, it’s… I figured you weren’t one to care about what others think.”
He reaches over the console, grabs my hand, and brings it to his lips. “It’s my girlfriend’s family. Of course, I want them to like me.”
Fireworks erupt in my stomach, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like a lunatic. “Did you just call me your girlfriend?”
Tugging me closer, he drops a kiss to the corner of my mouth and rasps, “Did I stutter?”
“You didn’t say fake girlfriend,” I clarify. “You said girlfriend.”
“Pretty sure we already discussed this.”
“Pretty sure a girl can’t take anything seriously if it comes out of a guy’s mouth twenty-four hours after sex,” I argue.
The same low chuckle rumbles up his throat. “If we’re playing by those rules, my comment tonight doesn’t count, either. I did come down your throat on the way here, remember?”
My eyes bulge, and I smack his chest. “Everett! ”
“You’re the one who brought it up,” he reminds me.
I roll my eyes, but the man does have a point.
“Whatever.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and take a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay.” He kisses my knuckles one more time, then lets me go. “Girlfriend.”
The air is a hell of a lot warmer inside the building than it was outside. As it thaws my already cold cheeks, Everett shrugs out of his coat, and I do the same. Without a word, he grabs my jacket, hooks it over his arm, then offers his ID to the bouncer. Following suit, I pull mine out and hand it to the big, burly man at the front. Once he’s satisfied, he tilts his head toward the bar, and Everett adds, “Lead the way, Stormie.”
The place is crowded. Even more so than usual, which is saying something. SeaBird has always been the place to be. Or at least, that’s the way my dad has always explained it. I never really came here. Not unless his rockstar friends, the leading men in Broken Vows, were playing and they snuck me backstage with the rest of the families. After they had kids and stopped touring, I never really came back. Never really could, and by the time I was over twenty-one, I’d already moved to Cedar Springs. Whenever I came back to visit my family, I hung out at my parents’ house.
It’s just as crowded as I remember. I’m not really surprised. My brother’s band sells out massive venues year-round. Of course, their fans would be lining up to hear them play in their hometown. It’s been a while since they’ve been back. Dodger. Judge. Paxton. And Tuke.
Now, if I could only convince my body to stop feeling like a shaken-up can of soda, that would be great. My relationship with Dodger has always been…strange. Less like we’re equals and more like he’s the king and I’m the princess he’d prefer to keep locked in a tower somewhere .
Thanks to Mom’s miscarriage, there’s quite the age gap between us. Penelope’s sixteen years older than me, and Dodger’s ten. I was the surprise baby. The miracle baby. The rainbow baby. If anything, the gap only made my sister more motherly and my brother more protective and more…big-headed and bossy and overbearing to the point that when he moved away, I felt like I could finally…breathe.
The reminder of how I spent said breathing room by hooking up with an abusive ex-boyfriend is the cherry on top of a craptastic sundae, though.
Way to prove him right, Raine.
If only he knew.
Part of me is grateful Drake never wanted to meet my family. Now, I have a fresh start with Everett, and I’m really hoping I don’t screw it up tonight. My dad hasn’t stopped asking about him since their first run-in at the shop. Surprisingly, though, he’s been kind of aloof overall, and I haven’t figured out why yet. I guess I’ll find out tonight.
When I spot my dad at the bar nursing a tumbler of whiskey, I square my shoulders and weave between the crowd. Ever the protector, Everett follows my lead, staying right behind me as I move toward my father.
“Hey, Dad.” I kiss his cheek, steal his drink, and take a sip, desperate for the liquid courage. My nose wrinkles at the burn, but I breathe the heat out, preparing for the inevitable.
I was anxious over the possibility of him running into Everett before this was real. Now? Now, there’s even more weight to it, and the idea of my dad not liking my boyfriend feels pretty freaking miserable.
Narrowing his gaze, my dad watches me down half his beverage, chuckling lowly and motioning to the bartender for another one. Then, he glances at Everett and tilts his head. “You drinkin’ tonight? ”
“One beer. I’m driving,” Everett answers. “Good to see you again, Mr. Anders. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Is that what my girl called it?” My dad cocks his head. “An invitation?”
“More like a thinly veiled threat,” I interrupt dryly. “Have they played yet?”
My dad shakes his head. “Not yet. They’re supposed to start at eight.”
I check my phone for the time. “It’s 8:10.”
“You know Pax,” he says into his glass.
Yeah, I know Pax. Everyone knows Pax. Like how everyone knows Dodge. When the original guitarist died from a drug overdose while in town a few years ago, Paxton showed up and convinced my brother and Judge, the band’s founder, to let him audition.
Thirty minutes later, he was in, and they never looked back. Even though there’s a solid age gap between Pax and the rest of the members, he fits in seamlessly and basically turned into my brother’s unpredictable shadow.
The pulse of the bass drum from the stage grabs our attention, so I turn to it. The lights are still dimmed, but we’re close enough to see the members’ silhouettes. My brother’s at the mic. Judge is on the drums. Tuke is on the bass. And Pax is…I search the stage for the baby-faced guitarist. A shadowed figure appears from the side, slipping a guitar strap over his neck before playing the intro to one of IndieCent Vow’s popular songs.
I glance at Everett, curious as to how he’ll react. If he’s intimidated or if he likes my brother’s music or…honestly, I don’t even know.
His head bobs to the beat as my brother’s voice echoes through the speakers, and when Everett’s lips mirror the lyrics, I smile.
He knows my brother’s music .
My dad must notice, too, because he grunts into his drink, finishes the rest, and sets the glass down with a quiet clink on the bartop. Then, he steals the order he’d made for me as the bartender places it in front of me. “She needs another one.”
He gives me a disgruntled look over the rim and steals another sip, making my lips twitch with amusement. Apparently, Everett earned a brownie point despite my father’s stubbornness, and he doesn’t even know it. Maybe there’s hope after all.
Everett doesn’t ask me to dance. Okay, that’s a lie. He started to, but I interrupted and changed the subject. It’s for the best. If Dodge sees us from the stage, no matter how innocently we’re dancing, I'm pretty sure he’d jump off mid-verse or call us out over the speakers.
Instead, we watch from the bar as my brother belts out lyrics, and girls swoon up at him like he hung the moon. To be fair, I get it. My entire family was blessed with some pretty good genes, thanks to my mom and dad. And Dodge? He capitalized on each and every one of them. Light brown curly hair cut close on the sides and longer on the top. Freshly shaven face to show off his chiseled jaw. Strong biceps and veined forearms as he cradles the mic. And the voice of a fucking angel, though I have no idea where he got that particular talent. Scratch that. I blame my Aunt Dove. She’s my mom’s little sister and one of the lead singers in the insanely popular band, Broken Vows, so…yeah. I guess it’s her fault.
And even though Dodger and I don’t always get along, I am kind of jealous watching my brother kick ass at life. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m barely flailing along. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. I’d hoped it would settle my nerves, but when it’s combined with my dad’s silence? Yeah, I’m kind of on edge.
Why hasn’t he said anything to Everett yet? I mean, yeah, my brother’s band is playing, but still. Nothing? It’s…weird. I finish the last of my drink and set it down, climbing off my stool and smoothing my sweater out, anxious for a breather. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.”
“Want me to come with you?” Everett asks. It isn’t because he doesn’t want to be alone with my dad. He’s anxious about Drake. About leaving me alone for a minute on the off-chance I’m cornered. It’s kind of silly since one, SeaBird isn’t exactly Drake’s stomping grounds, two, he doesn’t know I’m here, and three, I haven’t even heard from him in weeks. Pretty sure Everett can let his guard down, but it’s nice knowing he cares.
I really wish my dad could see it, too. How Everett wouldn’t hurt me. How we literally started dating so he could protect me. From my bad choices. From my demons. From my consequences. Even if I don’t deserve them—the consequences—I chose to date Drake. I chose to be with him and to open up to him, and now…now, I have to deal with looking over my shoulder until long after he grows bored. And what’s worse? Maybe he already is, and I have no idea. Even then, I’m not sure how long it’ll take until the feeling goes away. Until I can stop looking over my shoulder or questioning who’s on the other end of every random call I receive or if it’s okay to voice my opinions without pissing someone off.
Oof. That escalated quickly.
“Bo, you good?” my dad prods.
“Yup.” Patting Everett’s chest, I add, “I think I can handle going to the bathroom on my own. Thanks, though.”
Everett takes in the short line and nods, satisfied he can see it from where we sit. “Be safe.”
“It’s a bathroom.” I laugh. “But, yes. I’ll be safe. Be right back.”