16. Chapter 16
ONYX
There’s a dull, tender ache leftover from last night and a smile I just can’t seem to wipe off my face.
Not that I’m trying all that hard. I shift in bed, groaning happily at the way my bones pop and my muscles twinge from the gentle stretch.
Hero’s soft snores are rhythmic and slow.
He’s still fast asleep with his fingers twitching against my back and his warm breath buffeting the hair on the nape of my neck.
The thought of getting out of bed and taking my guitar and a cup of coffee outside to enjoy the bird songs and fresh air is appealing, but not quite as appealing as the feel of Hero’s bare skin against mine under the covers this morning.
I yawn and wiggle a little closer to him.
He grunts in his sleep and drapes a heavy arm around me.
A morning like this is a slow piano melody, peaceful enough to drift away on. Except I can’t drift away. Not completely. The specter of what’s waiting for me on my phone has been haunting me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can avoid dealing with it.
With a sigh, I reach for my phone where it’s lying face down on the nightstand, careful not to wake Hero with my movements.
I hold my breath as I press the power button and wait for it to come to life.
It feels like it takes an eternity for the lock screen to finally appear.
I type in my code and in seconds I’m flooded with missed notifications, calls and texts that have been coming in for nearly two weeks, an alert that my voicemail box is full, and emails with subject lines like “Where the hell are you?!?”
My stomach knots and my thumb hovers over the power button again.
I can’t tell if turning it off is just running away from it or if it’s actually the better option right now.
The alternative is replying to their messages with scathing, sarcastic apologies for taking a break during my fucking break.
The only messages I actually feel a little bad about are the ones from my agent, Van, repeatedly letting me know that the label is breathing down his neck about getting a signature on my new contract and threatening to replace me if I can’t get it done before we’re booked for studio time.
I’m tempted to tell them to fucking go for it.
Get someone else to listen to Jade and Gray’s fucking and fighting.
Get someone else to play video games with Jett and get secondhand stoned off of his weed.
Get someone else to spend eighty percent of their life cooped up in a tour bus and performing like a goddamn circus monkey, because I’m this fucking close to being done.
“What’s wrong?” Hero mumbles sleepily, tightening his arm around me as he stirs and yawns.
“Nothing.” I turn my phone off again and toss it back onto the nightstand.
“You sure?” He yawns again and sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and blinking against the morning sun coming in through the gap in the curtains.
“You seem tense.” He puts his large, warm hands on my shoulders and uses his thumbs to knead some of the knots that started forming the second I picked up my phone and looked at my messages.
“Yeah, there’s some stuff I need to deal with eventually, but it can wait.
” It’s mostly the truth. Whatever the label is saying to Van, I don’t have to sign a new contract or get my ass back to the studio for two and a half more months.
They’re just impatient. And if they keep fucking pushing me, they won’t like my answer.
I roll towards Hero and prop myself up on my elbow, taking in the glorious view of his bare chest covered in tattoos, the sheets pooled around his waist, his hair messy from sleep, and I try to get myself to form the words I really want to say. What if this didn’t have to be temporary?
“Alright,” he says, brushing the hair off my forehead, but I can see the tightness around his eyes.
He wants to push to know what’s really bothering me.
If he asks again, I might crack and tell him.
It feels like a standoff, our gazes lingering silently on each other, both of us waiting to see if the other one will work up the guts to talk about what we both keep dancing around.
Finally, Hero opens his mouth, but it isn’t to have the relationship talk or to needle me about the messages on my phone.
“Hey, do you want to do something fun today?”
I snort a laugh. “Nah, let’s do something boring instead. Oh, hey, do they still have that kick-ass farmers’ market on the square?”
His eyebrows scrunch and he looks at me like I’m crazy for a second before he laughs. “The farmers’ market is still there. Is that really how you want to spend a Saturday morning?”
“Are you kidding? Have you had the blueberry scones?”
“No, I haven’t tried the blueberry scones,” he admits.
“Well, that settles it. We have to go.” I fling the covers off and start to climb out of bed, but Hero grabs me around the waist and drags me back.
“Five more minutes,” he barters as he pulls me against his chest like I’m his favorite teddy bear. “The scones will be there all morning.”
“But your nudity is a limited time engagement?” I chuckle, burrowing back into the warmth of his arms and nuzzling my nose against his.
“Exactly.”
“Alright, five more minutes then.” I smile before we sink into a lazy, endless kiss.
HERO
I can’t remember the last time I bothered to drag my ass to the town square on a Saturday morning for the farmers’ market. My fingers are tangled with Onyx’s, and he swings our joined hands while he excitedly points out different things at the various booths.
“Have you had fresh carrots like these? They’ll ruin you for store bought.” He picks up a bushel of purple, white, and orange carrots. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this excited about vegetables, but I have to admit that his enthusiasm is contagious.
“Why don’t we get a bunch of stuff and make a farmers’ market dinner tonight?” I suggest, fishing for my wallet with my free hand so I can pay for the carrots.
“Perfect. There used to be a guy here who sold the best bratwurst too. We’ll have to find him.” Onyx puts the carrots into the canvas bag we bought from the first booth we stopped at.
He’s not putting on a show for my benefit, he really does love this whole small town farmers’ market thing.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy to ask him to come here more often in between tours.
The words get stuck in the back of my throat though.
I probably shouldn’t blurt something like that out while we’re here, but maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy to talk about it over dinner tonight?
“Oh my god, is that the bee guy from TikTok?” he gasps, dragging me along to the next booth.
I grin and wave at Ren, who is indeed the bee guy from TikTok. His eyes light up and he waves back.
“You know the bee guy?” Onyx whispers in awe, like he’s meeting the Pope or Mick Jagger, not the beekeeping husband of a friend of mine.
“Yes,” I whisper back teasingly. “Come on, I’ll introduce you. He’s cool as hell.”
Ren is clearly in his element in his honey booth, with an array of products on his table, from honey butter to beeswax candles to regular jars of honey.
He drips a few droplets of liquid onto the back of his hand and within a minute, a bee flies over to land on him like he’s some kind of honeybee whisperer.
“You’re like a Disney Princess,” Onyx says.
“Sugar water,” Ren explains with a laugh. “Hey, aren’t you Onyx Hart?”
Onyx chuckles and rubs the back of his neck shyly. “That’s me. But I don’t know why you’re impressed. You have the most views of any TikTok influencer for three years running.”
Ren blushes. “I just started the channel to teach people about honeybees and get the word out about the crisis of disappearing pollinators.”
“The fact that you’re hot and shirtless in every video is just for educational purposes,” Ren’s husband Cole says, coming around the back of the booth with a big box labeled ‘honey scrub’ balanced on his shoulder.
Ren smirks and shrugs. “Whatever it takes to spread the word.”
“Uh-huh.” Cole sets the box down and kisses his husband on the cheek.
“Hey, maybe we could collab?” Ren says, turning his attention back to Onyx. “I could use your music in a video.”
“Cool, yeah. I could even write something specific. We could get together, and you could tell me stuff about bees, then I could come up with a song for you.”
Ren bounces on his toes excitedly. “Holy shit, that would be amazing. Would you really do that?”
“Hell yeah. I don’t get to do much with my own stuff, so it would be really cool.”
They chat for a few more minutes and exchange info, then we move on to find the booth where they sell the blueberry scones. I groan when I bite into it, and Onyx nods smugly.
“Told you,” he mumbles around a mouthful of his own scone.
“Okay, yeah, we should come to the farmers’ market every weekend and eat these scones.” The words coming out of my mouth don’t hit me until it’s too late. I hurry to correct myself. “I mean every weekend until you have to leave.”
Onyx nods and smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something is bothering him, but I’m afraid to ask what. Maybe he can tell that I’m already too attached and he’s trying to work out how to let me down gently?
“I’ll never say no to farmers’ market scones,” he says lightly after a second, taking another big bite then grabbing a four pack for the vendor to ring up and stuffing that into his bag.
I reach for his hand again and we fall back into the peaceful rhythm of exploring each booth and picking out what we want to make for dinner.
We come across Journey and Red’s booth too, another couple of my friends.
They have an array of alpaca wool products, including socks, blankets, and sweaters.
Onyx gushes over one of the blankets, so I buy it for him, imagining the two of us wrapped up in it with a fire blazing in the fireplace while it snows outside.
“Can I ask you something?” To be honest, there are a dozen different questions in my head right now and I’m not even sure which one is about to spill out when Onyx nods and then looks at me expectantly. “What you said last night… How long?”
Both of his eyebrows shoot up and a grin spreads slowly across his lips.
“You really want to know?”
“No,” I laugh. “But tell me anyway.”
I brace myself for whatever answer he might give. I’ve never expected this casual patchwork of hookups to be exclusive on his end.
“A little over four years.”
My heart leaps and I bark out another laugh. “No way.” I shake my head. “You haven’t hooked up with anyone but me since we met?”
He grabs a handful of the front of my shirt and leans in closer with a playfully threatening look on his face.
“You calling me a liar, sweetness?”
“No, it’s just hard to believe. I’ve seen what it’s like backstage after your shows…”
He shrugs. “Groupies were fun early on, but it got old fast. For me, anyway. Obviously Jett and Gray are into it, and Jade loves the drama. But honestly, all I want to do is play music. The rest of it…” Onyx shakes his head and tugs his lip ring between his teeth.
“Besides, you kind of ruined me for all of the fumbling, overeager fanboys.”
I slide my hands over his ass and pull him against me.
Can he feel how hard my heart is beating?
Can he see it written all over my face how wild I am about him?
That he’s fucking ruined me for anyone else too?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him, to just confess it all and deal with whatever his reaction might be, but that little voice in the back of my head won’t stop reminding me that just because he doesn’t want to fuck anyone else doesn’t mean he wants to give up everything else for whatever this is between us.
There’s something he’s holding back from saying too, I just don’t know what it is. All these unspoken words clutter the space between us until Onyx’s smile fades, and he brushes a kiss to my lips.
“Come on, let’s go find the bratwurst guy.”