14. Moon
14
MOON
I arrived at the guys’ house early, not wanting to sit alone in my apartment before book club. Holden and I were going to head over to Press together later, ready to discuss the ending of Gatsby with the others. I had no doubt Holden and I would find ourselves in a heated debate, a heat that the rest of the group probably shouldn’t witness. Maybe we’d get out our own intellectual tug-of-war on the way over. Would he see Gatsby’s death as tragic, the ruin of a man whose dream burned too bright? Or would he agree with me—that Gatsby’s death was Fitzgerald’s kindness, sparing him the slow, suffocating realization that Daisy was never going to leave the gilded cage of her society.
I couldn’t deny that I also wanted an excuse to see Hendrix and Conrad again. Hendrix, with his easy swagger and magnetic grin, the way his laughter filled a room, leaving no space for hesitation or doubt. And Conrad—quiet, sexy Conrad—whose every glance felt measured, as if he saw the parts of myself I wasn’t even sure I knew. I could already imagine Hendrix making fun of me, throwing some offhand comment about how I couldn’t stay away, while Conrad would offer that slow, subtle smile that always made my pulse skip a little too hard. Together, they were like the push and pull of a tide—one moment lifting me up, the next drawing me in, closer than I ever thought I’d let myself be.
The sound of laughter and rapid button mashing reached me as I walked into the living room. Hendrix and Conrad were sprawled on the couch, locked in some intense video game battle, their competitive energy crackling between them. Across the room, Holden sat in the armchair, earbuds in, a book open in his lap. He looked focused but not entirely unaware, his gaze flicking up briefly when I entered.
“Hey, boys,” I said, drawing out the greeting with a playful lilt. They glanced at me in unison, and I grinned, enjoying how their attention always felt like a spotlight. “What’s the game?”
“Kicking Conrad’s ass is my favorite game,” Hendrix said, with a shit-eating grin as he leaned forward, his thumbs working the controller with precision.
“My ass is your favorite, huh?” Conrad shot back, his voice light but edged with devilish humor.
I lingered for a moment, unsure who to approach first. They each pulled at me in different ways—Hendrix with his easy confidence, Conrad with his quiet roguishness, and Holden with that brooding charm he wore so effortlessly.
Deciding to spread some love, I started with Conrad, leaning over the back of the couch to press a soft kiss to his cheek. His lips quirked in a faint smile, but his eyes never left the screen.
“Win this round and I’ll give you a real one,” I whispered to Conrad before moving to Hendrix. He tilted his head up, expectant, and I obliged, planting a quick kiss on his lips. He grinned against my mouth, his hand briefly brushing my hip before returning to his game.
Finally, I crossed to Holden, who had pulled out one earbud and was watching me with a raised brow. “And what about you, Heathcliff?” I teased, leaning down to kiss his mouth. He stiffened slightly at first, his gaze flicking to the others, but he didn’t pull away.
When I straightened, I expected him to retreat into himself, maybe pick up his book or let the moment pass. Instead, he surprised me. His hand came up, catching my wrist as I moved to step back. His grip was firm but not forceful, his touch grounding as he pulled me down on his lap.
“All good?” I asked, as I looked back over to Hendrix and Conrad, my voice soft and a little uncertain.
Hendrix chuckled from the couch, his attention still half on the game. “We’re cool, Moon. You’ve got the power here. However you want to do this—it’s your call.”
Conrad nodded, his voice quieter but steady. “Yeah, no weirdness here. Do your thing.”
Holden’s lips curved into the faintest smile, a shadow of something darker behind his eyes. “Not enough,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear, his mouth meeting mine in a kiss that was anything but polite.
I felt the room tilt, the warmth of him washing over me as his lips pressed harder, his hand sliding to the back of my neck. This wasn’t the restrained Holden I’d kissed before—this was a Holden who didn’t care that the others were watching. His kiss was all heat and demand, lips bruising against mine as his hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back so he could take more. His teeth scraped my bottom lip before his tongue slid in, claiming, relentless, making it clear I was his to taste, his to ruin.
Hendrix’s low whistle cut through the moment, followed by a laugh. “Well goddamn, Holden.”
“Guess that answers that,” Conrad said, his tone light but edged with something unreadable.
Holden finally broke the kiss, his breathing uneven as his forehead rested against mine for half a second before he straightened. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes held mine, steady and sure. “Enough for you?”
Letting my fingers brush the edge of his jaw, I bit my lip with a sultry stare. “For now—but that doesn’t mean I won’t want more.”
“By all means,” Hendrix interjected, his grin sharp and amused. “Don’t stop on our account.”
Holden gave him a sidelong glance, then reached for his book—not as a retreat this time, but as if to ground himself, his fingers skimming the edge of the pages.
I moved to sit on the arm of the couch, letting my hand rest lightly on Hendrix’s shoulder. “So Holden told me you two had a grand adventure the other night. Something about hunting down The Silver Vine ?”
Hendrix shifted forward suddenly, abandoning the controller on the coffee table as his focus snapped to me. “He told you, huh?” Hendrix asked, looking across the room at Holden.
Something passed between them, but I didn’t know what. Holden quickly inserted himself, “Moon, that tip you gave us about Calhoun Street was clutch. We wouldn’t have found it without that.”
I blinked in surprise. “Wait—you actually found it?”
He nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Hell yeah, we did. And it’s…well, let’s just say it’s not what I thought it would be.”
I leaned in, curiosity bubbling up. “So? What was it like?”
Hendrix shot a look at Holden. “You want to tell her, or should I?”
Holden gave a small shrug, his expression guarded. “Go ahead. You’re better at the theatrics.”
“Damn right,” Hendrix said, his grin widening. He turned back to me, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. “Moon, this place is insane. Hidden speakeasy, crazy exclusive vibes, and that’s just the front.”
Hendrix launched into the story, describing the hunt for the speakeasy entrance in vivid detail—Calhoun Street, the narrow alley, the couple who led them to the back kitchen entrance. His words painted a picture of exclusivity and mystery, and I felt a twinge of jealous excitement.
Conrad leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So, it’s like super fancy? What did it look like inside?”
“Posh as hell,” Hendrix said, his grin widening. “Velvet, chandeliers, old school cocktails. And that’s just the front. Then, there’s this…other part.”
I tilted my head. “Other part?”
Holden set his book aside, leaning forward slightly. “The sex club through the coat room,” he let out with a dry laugh.
My lips parted in surprise, and Hendrix’s grin turned wicked. “Yep. Hidden in the back, down a hall. And once you’re in—well, let’s just say it’s not for the faint of heart.”
I leaned forward, my pulse quickening. “People were just doing it? Out in the open?”
“Performing, experimenting, teasing, fucking—you name it,” Hendrix said. “It was crazy.”
Holden’s voice was steadier, but his words were blunt. “It was like walking into another world. Performers in cages, couples and groups in every configuration you can imagine. It was wild…raw.”
“We haven’t even told you the real kicker,” Hendrix added, his tone flat. “We ventured down this hallway made for people to watch. And then we saw our parents.”
That brought me up short. “Wait. Shut the fuck up.”
“You saw Fanny and Blanton?” Conrad cut in, staring at Hendrix like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or demand an explanation, his usual calm cracking under the weight of disbelief.
Holden nodded, his expression tightening. “With another guy.”
“Holy shit.” I sat back, processing. “That must’ve been insane.”
“It is seared-into-my-brain insane,” Holden said, running a hand through his hair. “But, I mean…at least they weren’t cheating. They were together, experimenting. It’s weird, but I guess that’s…something.”
I reached over, brushing my hand against his knee. “Weird, yeah. But also kind of awesome. They’re out there living freely, right? I mean, being with two guys is hot. I know from experience.” I shot a look at Hendrix, then Conrad, who had gone quiet again.
Holden’s jaw tightened, and I couldn’t tell if he was uncomfortable or just deep in thought. “It’s not just that,” he said finally. “The guy they were with. There was something…weird about him.”
“Weird how?” Conrad asked, his focus sharpening.
Holden hesitated, his gaze flicking to Hendrix for backup. “I don’t know. He was older. Salt and pepper hair, sharp features. Tall and slim. He seemed important. Powerful. I couldn’t place him though.”
Conrad frowned, his fingers drumming on his thigh. “He sounds familiar. Maybe I’ve seen him in passing at the gallery.”
My eyes widened. “You think you could ID him?”
“Yeah,” Conrad said, leaning forward slightly. “If it’s the guy I’m thinking of, he dropped something off for Blanton while I was working. I can dig around and see if there’s paperwork with his name.”
I nodded in contemplation. “Do you guys want to know more? Like who he is?” I asked. “I’m sure it’s awkward to unearth stuff about your parents’ sex lives.”
Holden exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, I want to know who the hell this guy is.” His voice was low, tense, like he was still wrapping his head around it. “It’s not just weird that they were with him—it’s the way they were with him. I’ve never seen them like that before. It felt…” He trailed off, jaw tightening, his fingers curling into his palms.
“Like he had control over them,” Hendrix finished, his voice unusually serious.
Holden nodded. “Yeah. Like they were answering to him.”
Hendrix scoffed, shaking his head. “Fuck that. I don’t care if I have to see some shit I don’t want to see—I need to know who this guy is. If he’s got that kind of influence over them, it matters.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his usual bravado stripped down to something sharper. “Because if he’s dangerous? That’s not just their problem. That’s our problem.”
Holden’s gaze flicked to his. “Exactly.”
I let their words settle, the weight of them pressing into the space between us. This wasn’t just about catching their parents in some unconventional sexcapades—it was about who they were in it with.
“Then we find out,” Holden said, finality in his voice. “We figure out who the hell he is.”
Hendrix huffed a humorless laugh. “Glad we’re in agreement. ID’ing the mystery man our parents are blowing is priority number one.”
Conrad was the first to break the silence. His fingers tapped against his knee, his brows drawn in thought. “If he’s that powerful, I bet he’ll attend the charity gala.”
I glanced at him. “What gala?”
“Blanton is hosting an annual charity gala to support the local arts in Charleston. It’s one of the biggest events of the year where old-money Charleston dons its finest pearls and politeness while pretending they aren’t drowning in scandal.”
Hendrix snapped his fingers. “Oh, shit—you’re right. We have to go to that anyway. We can easily scout for the mystery man.”
I blinked. “We?”
“Yeah,” he drawled. “You’re coming. You’re involved in the theatre arts. Why wouldn’t you attend?”
I stared at him for a beat, then tilted my head to look at Holden and Conrad as well. “Attending as somebody’s date?”
Conrad shrugged. “It would make sense.”
Hendrix leaned back against the couch, grinning. “Gotta blend in with the high society crowd, right? And what better way than on the arm of one of Charleston’s most eligible bachelors?”
I snorted. “You mean one of you?”
Hendrix spread his hands. “I don’t see any other volunteers.”
I rolled my eyes. “And what do you want me to do at the gala? I haven’t seen the guy, and I’m betting there will be plenty of older, distinguished salt-and-pepper-haired men in attendance.”
Holden’s gaze met mine, steady and assessing. “Charleston’s elite spill tea like a debutante with loose lips at a garden party after her third mint julep. And you have a way of getting people to say things they wouldn’t normally say.”
Hendrix grinned. “You flash that sweet little smile and charm them with stories about the magic and mess of life in the spotlight. They’ll be eating up your act as shamelessly as they’ll scarf down the caviar on toast—before they even realize they’ve spilled something useful.”
I arched a brow. “You saying I should weaponize my charm?”
“Exactly,” Holden said, his lips twitching slightly. “No one gossips like Charleston’s old money, and the right people will be there. If you float through the room, talking to the right donors, you’ll hear things we won’t.”
Hendrix leaned in, his voice full of amusement. “Meanwhile, we’ll be keeping an eye on the crowd, seeing if our mystery man shows up.”
I exhaled, pretending to think it over. “So, I’m the distraction. The seduction. The social maneuverer.”
“And the eavesdropper,” Conrad added dryly. “Don’t forget that.”
I smirked. “Sounds like I have the most fun job of all.”
Hendrix nudged Holden, his grin widening. “So who’s taking Moon as their date? Because I call dibs.”
Holden shot him a look, unimpressed. Conrad just shook his head, his exasperation barely contained.
“You three can fight it out,” I said, stretching lazily. “Or maybe I’ll just keep my options open.”
Conrad rolled his eyes and got back to business. “Okay, so I'll dig around at the gallery in the meantime, see if there’s anything attached to him—purchases, deliveries, anything that connects him to Blanton. And then we wait for the gala.”
Holden exhaled sharply, leaning forward as if the weight of the night was still pressing on him. “In the meantime, we could try going back to The Silver Vine . If he’s a regular, maybe we’ll see him again.”
“Not a bad idea,” I said. “You two already know the place. You’ve got the experience.”
Hendrix’s grin turned sly, his blue eyes glinting as he leaned toward me. “Holden and I got some experience, yeah,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “But I’m pretty sure it’d be a whole new experience with you and Conrad. The four of us, tucked into one of those booths, watching…” His words trailed off, his gaze dropping briefly before he adjusted himself in his sweats with a soft laugh. “Shit, now you’ve got me thinking about it.”
A shiver ran through me, and I tilted my head, meeting his challenge with a sly smile. “Sounds like you’re trying to tempt me.”
Hendrix leaned back, his arm draped over the couch. “I think you’re already tempted, you little minx. Admit it—you want to go.”
I rolled my eyes, but my pulse quickened at the thought of walking into that dark, opulent world with all three of them. “And what about you, Conrad?” I asked, turning to him, letting my knee brush his. “Are you in?”
Conrad leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the armrest, his gaze steady and unhurried as it lingered on me. “Are you asking to include me,” he said finally, his voice low and smooth, “or because you want me there?”
The weight of his words settled over me, pulling a shiver down my spine. I tilted my head, holding his gaze with a sultry lilt. “Oh, I definitely want you,” I said, matching his tone.
His smile deepened, his ocean eyes sparking with quiet intensity. He leaned forward just enough for his voice to drop, intimate and provocative. “Good,” he murmured. “Because if we’re going, we’re not just watching.”
“And what about you?” I turned to Holden, my voice softening. “Think you can handle going back there—with all of us?”
Holden’s eyes locked onto mine, his brow furrowing slightly as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice was calm, measured, but there was a glint of something darker in his gaze. “We’d find trouble,” he said simply, his tone low but steady.
I felt my lips curve into a sensuous smile. “Maybe we’ll make some trouble too.”
The room grew quieter, the tension wrapping around us like a thread pulling tighter with each glance, each word. My gaze swept over them, taking in the sharpness of Holden’s intensity, the quiet heat in Conrad’s eyes, and the wild gleam in Hendrix’s grin. Whatever trouble we’d find—or make—together, it wouldn’t leave any of us untouched.