28. Grayson
Grayson
Ididn’t tell Rae I’m back tonight. She thought I’m coming back in the morning, and I didn’t correct her. I wanted to surprise her. Even though I’m exhausted and my bed is calling my name, hers is calling me more. I knock on the door, anticipation running through me.
The door swings open, but I’m not met with red hair and blue eyes. Instead, there’s a six-foot-two MMA fighter standing there with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I rear back and he just continues to look smug.
“What does it look like?”
“Where’s Rae?” I step in, pushing past him.
“Probably still recovering,” he answers like the asshole he is.
I turn around, glaring at him. I figured he would take advantage of having me gone for a couple of days to have her alone, but if I’m accepting that she wants us both, then he needs to as well.
I’m about to say that to him, but then Rae is descending the stairs adjusting the bracelets on her wrist. “Who is at the—Grayson!” A smile takes over her mouth, and she rushes over, wrapping her arms around me.
I can’t help but send a victorious look in Asher’s direction while holding onto her tightly. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
“You didn’t tell me he was coming with us.” She turns toward the other man in the room.
“He wasn’t,” Asher grumbles.
“Going where?” I really didn’t want to go anywhere other than her bed, maybe shower, but definitely not out somewhere.
“I don’t know. He’s kidnapping me,” Rae jokes.
Asher pulls her toward him with a possessive arm around her middle so she collides into his chest. My first instinct is to grab her back, but I see how she relaxes against him as well, and it’s the only reason I keep my hands at my side.
“It’s not kidnapping if you’re willing,” he retorts.
“You showed up and told me you’re taking me somewhere, that’s literally kidnapping,” she tells him.
“Are you willing?” I ask her.
She beams at me in a way that puts me at ease. “I am if you’re coming too.”
The way she’s looking at me with so much joy and hope while Asher glares makes the decision easy.
“Of course I am.”
“Fine, but I’m driving,” Asher grunts, and I can tell my appearance has pissed him off a little, derailing any plans he had to have Rae alone for the night.
“No, I’ll drive,” I insist.
Asher scoffs. “There’s not room in that tiny little Corvette of yours.”
“Oh true, guess you can drive yourself.” I shrug.
“If this is going to be such a problem, I’ll drive,” Rae insists.
“No,” we both say at the same time and then glare at each other causing Rae to laugh lightly.
“Fine, but Asher’s car does have a backseat, and yours doesn’t, Gray.” She shrugs.
“Yeah, some of us need a little more room in our cars.” Asher tosses his keys up in the air, then catches them with a wink.
“Let’s go before you start a dick-measuring contest.” Rae shakes her head, walking ahead of us out the front door.
“Good call.” Asher lowers his voice when he’s passing me. “We all know I’d win.”
He’s such an asshole. I don’t know what she sees in him, but I follow them outside, making sure Rae’s house is locked before getting to the car that Asher already started. I’m pretty sure if Rae wasn’t still standing outside with the passenger door open he would have tried to drive away.
“I can sit in the back,” she offers.
“Fuck no, you’re not,” Asher tells her, reaching over the seat to yank her into the front.
I climb into the back, though it’s a tight fit with my six-foot-six frame. “I’d hardly say you have much room back here you know.”
“It’s enough.” He shifts the car into drive as soon as I shut the door, and he takes off faster than necessary.
I’m not one to get car sick, but this might be a first with the way he drives. I should’ve just taken my own car, but I don’t even know where we’re going, and I don’t trust him to have told me the right place.
Rae may want us both, but I think he’s struggling with that. He’s not the only one, but at least I’m trying. Kind of.
Even if I did show up tonight hoping to have her alone, he did the same.
Maybe we’re more alike than either of us want to admit.
We also both seem to give Rae something different that she wants. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Because we each offer something she desires. Needs. It’s all about her with me; as long as he feels the same I can accept what a prick he can be.
I have no idea where we’re going as Asher drives us toward central Denver. Leaning forward between the two seats so my head stops hitting the roof, I say, “You know if you’re taking us somewhere, we’re likely going to be recognized.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Asher insists.
I turn to look at Rae, but I see her unease she’s trying to hide. Reaching forward, I take her hand in mine. “If you want to leave at any point, we’ll leave,” I tell her.
She turns her head to give me a small smile as I caress her knuckles with my thumb.
“Are you comfy back there?” Asher asks.
“Not even a little bit,” I deadpan, sitting back and shifting. I don’t miss the smirk in the rearview mirror.
We pull up to a wood building that, based on the neon sign and where we are, I’m realizing is a dive bar. I raise an eyebrow waiting for Asher to explain why we’re here, but he says nothing, just parks the car and gets out.
Rae shrugs at me, following out of her own door, and I do the same, appreciating that I get to stretch my legs since my knees were practically pressed into my chest that entire drive.
Raising my arms up to stretch my entire body, I catch Rae’s eyes locked on the spot where my hoodie rides up on my stomach.
I close the distance between us, leaning down to her. “Keep looking at me like that and we’re not going to make it inside.”
She hides her smile as we all walk inside the dark bar. The various neon signs on the walls have an aura that makes me take my glasses off to wipe them; the annoying extra light will give me a headache. Sometimes I wish I could deal with contacts, but they annoy me too much.
There’s a guy sitting on a stool on a small stage on one side of the bar playing a song I don’t recognize as we all approach the bar.
“What can I get ya?” The bartender asks.
“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks,” Asher answers.
“You’re driving,” I chastise.
“I can handle one drink, can you not?” He questions.
“I’ll have a rum and coke,” Rae orders, leaning on the bar top.
“Water for me.” I guess I’ll be the one driving us home.
Asher mumbles something under his breath that I’m sure I don’t want to hear. It may lead to me getting in his face, and I know Rae doesn’t want that.
We get our drinks just as the guy on the stage finishes up, then speaks into the microphone. “Who is up next for our open mic night?”
“Right here,” Asher announces, pointing to Rae who’s completely frozen with her straw in her mouth.
“Dude,” I grumble, but I don’t think he hears me. Or doesn’t care because he’s leading Rae up to the stage while she looks petrified.
The guy lights up when he sees her. “Aren’t you Rae Sparks?”
“This was a bad idea,” I try to tell Asher who just continues to ignore me.
The bar isn’t busy, and the people that are in here don’t seem like they’re in Rae’s demographic of music. No one has even reacted to seeing her, but all it takes is one picture posted to social media to cause a swarm of people to appear.
“I-I don’t think I can—” Rae stutters and I’m about to take her out of here. Fuck Asher and her wanting to be with both of us. He clearly doesn’t understand her or what she wants. He’s selfish and a complete idiot. And I’m going to kill him.
He tugs on her hand to look at him. “You can do this. Play your new stuff. There’s hardly anyone here, but I bet you’ll be surprised by the reaction.”
“No, it’s not ready to be performed yet,” she insists.
“Don’t think of it as performing then. Just practice. Imagine it’s just us here,” he comforts and my eyebrows raise in surprise that he’s talking her…gently. I mean gently for him that is. Huh. Didn’t expect that.
She turns to me, searching for something, either more encouragement or for me to save her.
But I hate to admit in this situation Asher is right.
Is this a little crazy and kind of risky?
Yes, but it’s also good for her. She can perform in front of stadiums no problem, but that’s after months of preparation and practice.
She wants everything perfect. This is raw, stripped down and unexpected.
It pushes her out of her comfort zone, which is exactly what she needs.
“You got this, Sunshine. It’s just us here,” I tell her, softly. I want to kiss her, but I can already see the headline and front page story if I did that.
Our families would be pissed if the whole world found out before they got to admit they’ve been right about us.
There’s going to be a solid few hours of gloating from everyone about that.
Honestly, that’s the part I’m not looking forward to.
The other part is questions, mostly from my brother, about where Asher fits into all of this.
But I don’t need to worry about that right now. All that matters is Rae stepping up the small stage and taking the guitar from the guy that performed before her. I zero in on her hands to see the shaking she tries to disguise.
“Why’re you doing this?” I murmur to Asher as Rae sits on the stool, adjusting the guitar on her lap and moving the microphone to where she wants it.
“Do you think she should remain in her bubble she’s created for herself forever?”
“It’s gotten her this far, hasn’t it?” I scoff.
“Why not go farther?”
“But why?”
He turns to look at me. “Do you think you’re the only one capable of caring about her?”
“So you care about her?”
He makes a huffing noise, facing forward as Rae strums the string on the guitar once, probably checking the tuning.
She’s able to tune anything by ear, something I’ve always been fascinated with.
I don’t question Asher anymore, but I am surprised by his answer.
I figured this was just fun for him. Something to pass time while he’s here and will end up going back to Oregon.
“H-Hi,” Rae speaks into the microphone and it’s louder than she expects because she backs up with a grimace.
I can’t help but smile watching her like this. It’s so different than when she’s on a large stage in front of thousands of people. For some reason she’s more at ease than right now in a small bar with maybe five other people. Including the bartender and the guy that was on stage before her.
Looking at her like this you’d never expect the larger than life person that she can be.
That’s Rae Sparks, though, and this is Rae Colver.
This is the woman I grew up, the girl that would spend days at the family cabin in the winter curled up by the fire writing songs and humming them under her breath.
The girl that would lay by the lake in the summer and listen to music only she could hear in her head.
The girl that grew up into the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met in my life. A woman I know I could never live without.
Rae plays the first set of chords to an unfamiliar song.
This isn’t the one she played for us in the studio, this is a new one.
It’s got a somber tone to it. She sings about love being a tragedy and I furrow my brow watching her.
By the end of the song I understand. It’s sad, hauntingly beautiful, but it’s honest and raw about love being a tragedy, but not wanting to miss out on any of it.
She moves into the next song flawlessly.
This is the one she played for us at the studio.
The one about her finding herself, exploring who she is and embracing every piece of her she’s shied away from.
At one point during the song her eyes find mine, and Asher’s.
Especially when she sings about fear of who she may really be.
As the song comes to an end she stops the chords with her hand over the strings, and looks up nervously.
I start clapping enthusiastically for her, the rest of the bar joins in even if they don’t know what they’re clapping for exactly, but I do.
She’s taking a risk with her new sound, with Asher and me. And it’s all going to be worth it.
She’s beaming as she walks over to us.
“You’re incredible,” I tell her, my hands itching to pull her into me and kiss the life out of her.
“How does it feel?” Asher asks.
“Good, thank you for making me do that.” She smiles at him.
“You feeling better about your new direction?” I can’t stop myself from pulling her for a side hug. If anyone wants to take a picture of that, no one would think anything of it. And I need to touch her.
“Yeah, I know this wasn’t exactly a big crowd, but it helped.”
“Good, now I know something else that’s going to help.” Asher smirks. “But we have to take you back home for that.”
Her cheeks flush, and she picks up her drink she barely got to touch, and starts gulping it down quickly.
I remember the first time she got drunk; we were in high school and for some reason our parents trusted us home alone for a weekend.
Easton threw a party at our house and everyone came, except Asher.
He’d moved away by then, and I doubt he would’ve joined us anyway.
Evie and Steele also weren’t there, they’re older than the rest of us, and sometimes like to pretend they’re more responsible.
We all know it’s not true, but they can pretend.
Rae liked shots because they were quick and easy to drink.
She has always hated when her drinks get room temperature.
She also learned how quickly straight alcohol will get you drunk.
I ended up having one beer that night while I kept an eye out for her, and ended up being the one to help her when she got sick to her stomach, and tucked her into my bed when her body couldn’t take anymore.
It was so tempting to wrap her into my arms that night sharing a bed with her.
It wasn’t the first time we’d been in the same bed, but it was the first time she was inebriated.
The next morning she had the hangover from hell.
All she wanted was greasy food to make herself feel better, and that was that.
It was also one of the only times I’ve known about her getting drunk.
This one drink doesn’t compare to the eight shots she took that night, but I want her in her right mind with us at all times.
I want her to know what’s going on. I want her to want it. To want us.
She slams the glass down, the ice clinks against the side, and she looks between us. “Let’s go.”