21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Axel
E d stared at me from across the kitchen bar with a furrow in his brow.
Thornton stood beside him with an arm around his shoulder.
I blithely ate sugary breakfast cereal. More to piss Ed off than any desire to eat teeth-and-gut-rotting sugar. In fact, it didn’t taste right. Did you check to see if the milk is expired? Dumb question—Ed would’ve chucked it. Nothing went past the expiry. We tended to have weird meals at odd times to prevent food going past the end date.
“I’ll be fine.” I shoved a mouthful in my mouth.
A drop of milk dribbled out of the corner of said mouth.
I wiped it away with the back of my hand.
Ed winced and Thornton chuckled.
Par for the course . Another dumb expression I’d absorbed somewhere along the way.
“We’re just going for the weekend.” Ed gazed up at Thornton.
“We don’t have to go.” Thornton made that offer.
“It’s your mom’s sixty-fifth birthday.” I swallowed after having spoken with my mouth full of food. Oops. “You have to go. And isn’t your sister starting wedding plans for you?”
Ed coughed.
Oh shit.
Thornton arched an eyebrow. “Okay, I didn’t know that, so—”
“We need to be going.” Ed snagged Thornton’s hand and tried to drag him to the front door. “Be good, Axel.”
I snickered.
Both men halted their forward motion and spun back.
I waved them off.
Ed moved so he stood directly before me with just the breakfast bar between us. “Damn, man. You fucked up that relationship.” He shook his head. “You know there is such a thing as a telephone—”
“Eat shit and die. Leave me alone to my anger.” I was not going to email or call Hugo.
Although I’d been damn tempted on numerous occasions. Usually late at night when my defenses were down. He was likely mad at me for uploading the video. I would’ve been, had he done that to me. Also, his asshole ex-husband had made the douchey accusation. So maybe Hugo owed me an apology for having married a kumquat.
“You’re wallowing.” He glanced at Thornton. “Maybe we should stay.”
Thornton put his suitcase on the floor. “Your call, baby. Whatever you want.”
“Fucking go.” I leaned over to drop my bowl into the sink built into the bar along with the dishwasher.
Likely without thinking, Ed rinsed it off and put it into the dishwasher.
I rolled my eyes. “Just go already. It’s a long drive to Portland.”
“We can stay.” Ed gazed at Thornton. “Or come back early—”
“Just fucking go.” I might’ve growled that. “Pauletta’s already checking up on me, like, ten times a day—”
“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.” Ed met my gaze. “Or maybe not.”
I held out my phone. “Want to check my text logs? She hasn’t been hitting up the group chat because she somehow believes I deserve privacy.” I snorted.
Ed declined my phone.
Shrugging, I then put it back on the bar. “Have a good trip.”
He held my gaze for another long moment. “I’m a phone call away.”
“I know.” I rose. “I’m going to nap. Later.” I headed toward my bedroom.
Ed cut me off, stopping my progress. He pulled me in for a fierce hug. “I’ll stay if you need me.” He whispered the words with as much ferocity as the hug.
“It’s been four days, Ed. I’m a big boy. Enjoy your long weekend. Put this all out of your mind.” Reluctantly, I let him go. Then I spun him around and smacked his ass.
He glared, then appeared to relent. He moved over to Thornton, who kissed his forehead.
Thornton waved to me, the two grabbed their suitcases, then they were gone.
I snagged my phone and placed a call.
Twenty minutes later, Songbird arrived on my doorstep. Well, I called the concierge to let her in first, and then I’d called her.
As I opened the door, my neighbor Dante passed by.
He shot off a, “Great interview,” as he headed to the elevator. After he pressed the button, he looked back. “You should come for dinner tonight. Evan’s cooking and Kate’s off work. It would be just the four of us. Oh.” He seemed to register Songbird. “You’re welcome too,” he offered. “Just a small group of five.”
“I’d like that.” She grinned. “So would Axel. What time?”
“Say six? I’ll let Evan know, and he’ll make extra. Any allergies?”
“Nope.” Songbird again. Way too sweet. For a woman who usually came off as reserved, she was certainly coming off as chatty with my neighbor. Who was in a triad relationship with two sweet people.
I always smiled when I saw the three of them together.
“See you tonight!” Songbird grinned, then spun to me and shoved me into the condo.
Well, I could’ve resisted and not let her in, but that would’ve been rude since I’d invited her. “What were you thinking, saying yes?”
“That you don’t need to wallow.”
I eyed her. “You talked to Ed.” I might’ve leveled that as an accusation.
She grinned. “I messaged him that you invited me over and asked if there was anything I needed to know.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” I blinked. “And how did that parlay into a dinner invitation with my neighbor?”
“That’s Dante, right?”
“Uh…” I blinked again. Had I just said the guy’s name?
She grinned. “Ed got overtired one night and overshared about his BDSM Dominant neighbor, the man’s Domme girlfriend, and the submissive bottom they shared. That would be…”
“Dante, Kate, and Evan.” I rolled my eyes. “Ed’s got a big mouth.”
“And I get to eat dinner with these very intriguing people.” She eyed me. “I’ll keep their secrets—”
“They don’t keep their relationship a secret. Well, Kate’s a vet, so I don’t think her clients know—”
“And you have to keep mine.”
Again, I blinked. “I’m terrible with secrets.”
“Geneva Alvarez and I are going for brunch tomorrow morning. So I can’t stay out too late—”
“No way. No fucking way. You saw how she ambushed me—”
“Axel.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
“You would’ve heard about Gavin Fuckface McPherson’s accusation anyway, right?”
“Well, yeah.” I squinted. “Fuckface?”
“What would you call him?”
“An attention-seeking douchebag?”
She waved me off. “You’ve already said at least part of that. We need to get more creative.”
“Ugh.”
“Now.” She smiled. “Dinner’s not for eight hours. What are we doing in the meantime?”
I almost pointed out I hadn’t invited her to stay for eight hours, but it occurred to me that it might take us that long to lay down the track. “We’re recording a song.”
This time, she blinked. “Did Pauletta book the studio? Why are we not meeting there? Or are you driving—”
“We’re recording it here. It’s not an official track.”
She placed her hand on her hips. “You don’t have a recording studio in this condo. Unless it’s well-hidden and you’ve kept it secret.”
I grinned. “Ed’s walk-in closet.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And why not yours?”
“Uh…”
“Never mind. I doubt I want to know. You want me on the keyboard?”
“Yeah, I set it up after I called you. I have music written for an acoustic guitar as well, but I think just keyboard.”
“This isn’t going to have a professional sound. You planning to get an engineer involved?”
“Tim’s going to run it a couple of times, but I want pure and raw. I don’t want polished. You okay with that?
She chuckled. “I’m assuming this isn’t an official release.”
“Uh…no.”
“Does Pauletta know?”
“Uh…no.”
Songbird pursed her lips. “She has to approve it, Axel, or I don’t want any part of it. You releasing the video was shitty enough. You put out a song without Pauletta’s okay, and that could fuck with our relationship. The entire band’s. Meg and Big Mac aren’t going to care we didn’t involve them—they’re busy as fuck with their wedding plans.”
“I don’t need drums and bass with this anyway.”
“Ed?”
I cleared my throat. “Need to know?” I offered a smile. “He’s already in Washington State, I’m certain. On the way to Portland. We’ll have the song released before he’s back.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh God, to be a fly on the wall when he and Thorton find out.”
Linking arms with her, I grinned. “Let’s record the song, send it to Pauletta and Tim, and then go to dinner with my BDSM-obsessed neighbors. All good.”
And so we did.