Sixteen - Kieran
If I never had to step foot into a classroom again, I’d be fucking ecstatic. Why can’t I move on with my life without the hassle of a degree in hand? I would have rather gone to trade school and learned to weld. Then, I would have been at work, already making my money. But instead, I’m stuck in a prison of expectations and no way out. Leaning my head back against the side of the Tahoe, I soak in the late summer sun and close my eyes.
“It’s important, Kieran!” My mother hisses in my ear the moment Nigel tells us we were attending college right after high school graduation. And given the fact I didn’t apply to any sort of college. It meant Nigel stuck his nose in something he shouldn’t have. He was probably using the green lining of his wallet to get us into the college of his choosing—sans applications. Standing under the blaring May sun, a warm breeze passes over us. I haven’t even taken my robes off. I had no plans to attend regular college. In fact, they knew I wanted to leave. Maybe live on the other side of the country, but they’ve again tied my hands financially. “This will give you a much better life than I had. Don’t dive back into the gutter I got us out of.”
“Yeah? By what? Spreading your legs to that monster,” I hiss back, earning a sharp slap across the face.
“I will not let you fail. No way, no how. Nigel made us a good life here,” she says in a haughty tone, lifting her chin.
I eye every inch of her overly made-up face and scoff, counting the marks lining her cheeks and under her eyes. Deep purple bruises shine under the sun, letting the world know what goes on behind closed doors.
“Yeah? And at what cost, Gloria? So, he can hit you every day? Hit me? And Asher? What about Camilla? What will you do when he lays his hands on my little sister?” I step up to her, towering above her with gritted teeth.
Her face falls, and I know I’ve hit a nerve, but she backpedals, waving a hand like it’s not a big fucking deal that he does what he does. She has no idea I hear the awful words he shouts at her behind the bedroom door. How can she act like this is all okay? How can she sit there and pretend he’s not the bad guy? Fuck. I thought graduating high school would get me the fuck out of here, but now I’m even more stuck than before.
“Don’t be so obtuse, Kieran.” With that, she spins on her thousand-dollar high heels and struts away toward the man who has become nothing more than a nightmare.
I grit my teeth at the raw memory resurfacing from absolutely nowhere. The last thing I want to think about is the man I’m bound to because my mother purposely got pregnant by him years ago. Through the years, he’s molded her into the perfect wife and Camilla into the perfect, dutiful daughter. Asher and I have silently resisted every command he’s given at every damn turn. I’ll be damned if I become his perfect stepson. And Asher feels the same. That clawing desperation closes my throat when the man in question peeks out the upper-story window, watching us as he always does with a sharp eye. He scowls when Cami bounces on her toes with excitement, staring up at Asher and me like we’re saints. Big blue eyes meet mine when she stops in front of us and gives us a toothy grin.
“Cami,” I murmur, watching my sister jump excitedly in front of us with a large pink bouncy ball in her hands.
“Kieran. Ash,” she says in a small voice, shrinking in on herself when she peeks up at the window looming above us, and suddenly, our warm and happy sister disappears.
“It’s okay, Cam,” Asher whispers, reaching out and touching her arm. She relaxes at his touch, scrunching her face when she sighs, looking up at the window above us again with apprehension and nodding. “He’s in there. We’re out here. We’ll always protect you, right?” She nods, nibbling on her bottom lip, knowing it’s the truth. I’d protect my sister to the ends of the earth, even making sacrifices I shouldn’t. Whatever those might be.
“How’d your project go?” I ask, sparking a light in her big blue eyes.
“I turned in my project today at school and got an A-plus!” she says with a beaming grin, pride puffing out her chest.
“Good job! See, you did it all on your own,” I say, ruffling her long brown hair until she playfully swats me away with a little grunt.
“Good job, Cam,” Asher says with encouragement, squeezing her shoulder.
“Better go play while you can, okay? We’ll be back later. You have more homework?” I ask, discreetly watching the old prick glaring down at us. To him, it’s like having a good time is a fucking crime, especially on his own lawn.
“Yeah,” she says, furrowing her brows. “It’s science.” Her face scrunches when she says that, but she quickly gets called by one of her neighborhood friends and takes off, leaving us with him and the weight of his intense stare beaming down on us. I swear my skin catches fire when he shifts in the window, putting his hand in his suit pockets.
“Get a life, old man,” Asher grunts quietly, leaning against his Tahoe and shaking his head.
“Only a few more months, man,” I murmur, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ve survived twelve years under his shoe, and we can do it for a few more.”
“The moment that letter comes in with our invitation, we’re out,” Asher grumbles with confidence, swiping a hand down his face.
“Or the moment we get our diplomas, right? We can’t put all our hope into that fucking gig. There are how many bands applying for this spot? We have to think about the worst-case scenario,” I surmise, turning to Ash, who nods in agreement.
“Either we get the letter, or the moment that fucking diploma touches our hands, we’re gone. We need something to fall back on, and that degree is it. We’ve been saving for years. You, me, Rad, and Callum are out,” Asher growls, throwing a hand around in anger as he speaks. “Callum even mentioned selling the house to help pay for our trip to California. And then you and I can work, play in the band, and wait for our break far the fuck away from here,” Asher says, rubbing his chin. “So, when his trust ends, we can get out.” A small smile takes over his lips. “Then it’s just the four of us against the world.
“Hell, we can get out,” I murmur, rubbing my hands together. No matter what—we’re out of here. The moment my diploma touches my fingertips, we’re leaving this place before my father can sink his claws into me.
“Yeah. We’ll talk to the guys about that. What do you think they’ve been up to today?” They’ve been silent throughout the day.
Rad had a race to raise money for our band fund, and Callum usually looks through venues, contacting managers hoping to play. Obnoxiously, they typically keep us updated throughout the day on their activities. But today? They’ve been silent as fuck. Which is suspect at best. But I suppose we’ll know exactly what they’ve been up to in twenty minutes.
“Six sharp for dinner! Don’t keep your mother waiting!” Nigel yells out the window with a growl. “Not a second later! Don’t give me more reason to pull the plug on your little side project. Such a waste of time,” he huffs with a snarl, perpetually hating our band with a passion. He thinks it’s a waste of time and it’ll take us nowhere in life. Just because he had nothing exciting in his life besides work doesn’t mean he gets to bash ours.
“Yes, sir,” Asher and I say in unison without missing a beat.
We’ve figured out how to stay under his nasty radar this long. The last thing we need is for him to take away our freedoms. We may be twenty-one and adults, but he’s made sure we depend on him every step of the way.
Our vehicles? His. Our phones? His. Our clothes and allowances? His. Our college education? His. His insistence that we do not get jobs—all his. And we’re powerless in all situations. Nigel has us right where he wants us, needy and dependent on his dime. So, when the time comes, and he offers us some big wig job within his company, we’d be dumb not to take it. Well, at least that’s what he thinks.
Nigel Montgomery has tainted everything we own, hoping he can twist our arms into running his company alongside him. As much as it pains him to have his sons at the bottom, he knows he can mold us like he has everyone else. The only thing he hasn’t accounted for is our waste of time hobby, which has made us our own money this past year. And he can’t touch it. Our band is ours: our home, our family. And there’s nothing Nigel can do to stop it.
Once we enter the Battle of the Bands and hopefully gain entry, we’re gone. We’ll buy vehicles under our names and drive to California without a second glance.
Nigel steps away from the window, grumbling loudly about our laziness and being unappreciative of his kindness. In his eyes, we’re never enough, and I can’t live the rest of my life like that.
“Let’s get out of here while we can,” Asher mumbles, grabbing me by the shirt. “We’ll bring up the competition and what we have to do. More live shows to film, a recording of our music as professional as possible, and a social media presence are what we need. We can’t let this shit slip through our fingers, bro. We need this or…” He side-eyes me, swallowing hard. I see the wheels turning in his big ass brain, and I know precisely the subject of his thoughts.
“She doesn’t know her family, bro,” I murmur, regret seizing my heart. “She can’t get us into the KC Club any better than we can waltz in there. The Battle of the Bands is our best hope.” I shake my head, remembering the plan Asher came up with, which has blown itself out of the water.
I’m way too deep with her, drowning in my obsession. There’s no resurfacing from this as the same man I was before I met River West again. Mine to keep. Mine to hold. Mine forever.
There’s no way I’m letting Asher use her to get to her brothers’ record company or venue. From my memories, she hasn’t had the best relationship with that side of the family. They abandoned her. And I won’t force her to see them again.
“It was worth a shot,” he grumbles, wiping his face. “You think she would ever reconnect with them?” I shake my head immediately, blowing out a breath.
“I don’t know, man…”
Asher stops on the sidewalk a block away from Callum and Rad’s house, putting a hand on my chest.
“You’ve got her in your grip,” he says with an odd glint sparking in his eyes, making me frown. “She’s your old bestie from the bad side. You’ve…”
“I’m going to punch that shit out of your head and laugh while you bleed. River West is not a toy to use in some scheme to get to her family. Sure, we thought that before we got to know her, but it ain’t fucking happening. She is not someone we fuck over. Ya hear?” I growl, curling my fingers in his shirt to get my point across. “She. Is. Mine. Asher.” I punctuate every word by dragging him closer and closer until our noses touch.
But my message doesn’t seem to compute in his thick head. His eyes roll toward the sky in exaggeration, and he mutters angrily under his breath.
“Are you sure about that?” he says, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“Yes,” I grunt, shoving him away.
His teeth grit again when he finds his footing. “I see how she looks at you and them,” he hisses, pointing down the street.
“So?” I gape. “You think I didn’t know what I was doing when I let Rad in on our little moment? He’s fucking obsessed with her, just like me. And Callum? He’s ten seconds away from pouncing on her. Thank God. Besides, that was your whole fucking grand plan, right? Wine and dine her and make her fall for all of us. But maybe she doesn’t have to choose in the end. She gets us all. Well, except you.” His eyes widen a smidge, but he quickly covers his surprise and hurt. “You could be a little fucking nicer,” I quip.
That’s right. Asher may seem like he wants nothing to do with her, but he wants her, too. His only complaint is that he can’t reel her in with his assholeness, and he has to try. Before with other women, he’s just kind of grunted, went along with their plans, and got what he needed. But with River, she’s an entirely new breed of woman he’s never experienced. But fuck, it’s fun to watch him struggle. The way I see it, Asher will flounder for months until he’s crawling on his knees and begging for her forgiveness. He’ll be so in love with her that he’ll insist we take her with us. I can see it now in vivid imagery. Now, we have to get to that point where he digs his head out of his own ass and gets on board with the rest of us.
“Fucking nicer,” he mumbles, walking away in disbelief. “I’m fucking nice!” he yells offhandedly in disbelief.
“You’re a perpetual grump!” I shout after him, finally catching up and throwing my arm over his shoulders.
“Grump this,” he quips, shoving me away with a soft chuckle.
“Just don’t be a dick for once, okay? River is cool. River is…” I smile, thinking about the way she feels when I’m nestled deep inside her. And the way she lights up when I walk into a room. God, she’s extraordinary, and I never want to let her out of my sight.
Asher grunts in response, rolling his eyes at my expression and digs his keys from his pocket once we reach the bright red front door of Rad and Callum’s shared home. It’s a quaint ranch-style home nestled on the edge of the neighborhood. Heavy woods surround the backyard and side yards, leading to Central Lake glistening in the evening sun. The house itself is off on its own, giving us the privacy we crave. It’s the one place we love to come to when we need to get away. It’s our space—our home.
“Let’s discuss what we need to do with the Battle of the Bands and how we’re going to get there in the first place.” Asher shakes his head, shoving the front door open to a quiet house. His nose wrinkles when we step inside, shutting the door behind us.
“Well, they weren’t playing Angel Warrior all day,” I mutter, noting the dark TV and living room.
On any given day, that’s where we find them—curled up on the couch in an intense battle between the angels and demons. They’ll yell and fight after a long day of making money any way they know how. Recently, we’ve gotten income from Rad’s dirt bike races and the few gigs we find here and there from our performances. Callum brings money in through stocks, which doesn’t give us a lot to go on because he invests it straight from the leftover cash of his trust. The same trust that pays his house bills and gives him a little spending money which has never been enough to get us out of this stupid town and away from Nigel... But we’re saving as much as possible and as fast as we can.
“There aren’t even dishes in the damn sink,” Asher mutters from across the room, looking down at the shiny sink with a wrinkled nose. “His bike is outside.” He peeks out the back door window, furrowing his brows.
“Maybe Cal took his car?” I mutter, peeking in the large dining room off the kitchen, and note an empty table still decorated for the last Christmas Callum’s parents spent here almost two years ago. A heavyweight presses on my chest at the sight.
Callum’s parents were the best of all of ours. Caring. Kind. Loving. They let us come here and hang out, fed us, and ensured we were okay, never knowing the extent of Nigel’s temper against Ash and me, but they could tell we needed a place to hide and regroup. They supplied a sanctuary for us while they were alive, and now, they still are.
When they died, a trust kicked in for Callum, paying his monthly bills and house payment. It provides everything he needs to keep the roof over his head, but nothing more.
It feels like a century ago that they left this world and shattered our reality. At the same time, it feels like only yesterday when we visited Cal in the hospital after the accident. His leg was broken, and his soul was shattered. Somehow, by some miracle, we pieced him back together one day at a time. All of us. Together. Here in this house. It took months to help Callum out of the shadows of his depression. Music has always been our go-to, and his especially. He’s poured himself into his bass every day since.
“Fuck. I’ll go check the damn boathouse,” Asher grunts, pulling the back door open and walking through the woods to the tiny boat house nestled near the lake and dock where Callum’s parent’s boat still hangs, ready for use.
Fond memories resurrect in my mind. Of all the times spent hiding in the boathouse with a fifth of vodka and a can of coke as a chaser. We’ve spent our lives down there and grew up together here.
I roll my eyes, walking down the darkened hallway toward Rad’s room, keeping my ears open for any noises in the silent rooms. It isn’t until I’m right outside the door do I hear two distinct snores echoing through the room—my brows furrow when I push the door open and stop dead.
A grin explodes on my face at the sight before me, and I glue my eyes to her. Even sleeping soundly, she draws me in like a moth to a flame, threatening to burn me alive. Fuck. I’d gladly let her at this point.
There, squished between my two best friends, is the woman I had dreamed about all day. Her chest rises and falls under the thin blanket. My fingers itch to touch her skin and caress what’s mine.
“My fucking River Blue,” I mumble quietly, walking on my tiptoes toward the bed and hovering above them. “So, this is why you two were finally entertained all day?” I whisper above their heads, watching their every move.
“Yes, now go away,” Rad grumbles, pulling River into him. “She’s mine now. I live inside her.” River doesn’t stir when he tucks her head under his chin and soothes back her long brown strands until her peaceful face is all I see. Tiny freckles dot her cheeks, and her pouty lips turn down into a frown—the only sign she’s listening.
“Sharing is caring,” I murmur, slapping him on the back of the head until he jerks completely awake.
He frowns, finally opening his dark eyes, and glares at me with a venomous stare. A big, toothy smile takes over my face just to piss him off more. Rad is a happy-go-lucky guy, but if you wake him up, he’s rather testy and often threatens murder.
“Why?” he groans, holding the back of his head. “I’m telling on you,” he whines, shutting his eyes again. “Asher, come collect your brother. He’s being a douche again.”
“You two are annoying,” River rasps in a sleepy voice, snuggling into Rad.
I long to see the warmth of her green eyes staring up at me, but they remain closed. It’s only then that I feel a hint of jealousy spear through me. I want her wrapped around me and snuggling into my chest. Not his. Mine.
“They’re not in the fucking boathouse!” Asher shouts, slamming through the back door and shutting it with a loud thud. “Where the fuck are they?”
Rolling my eyes, I reach over and flick Callum in the ear. Stormy gray eyes find mine when his body jolts awake, and he looks around with confusion, furrowing his brows.
“Band meeting. We have shit to discuss,” I announce, leaning over Rad and kissing River’s cheek.
“You all have fun,” she mumbles, burying her face deeper into Rad’s neck with a whine. “I’ll hold down the fort in bed.” I snort, pulling the blankets off all of them.
“Why?” Rad whines. “This is the rudest wake-up call in history. Can’t we sleep for five more minutes, Dad?”
“No,” I chuckle, reaching over him, wrapping my arms around River, and kissing her again.
Fuck. I can’t get enough of her soft skin beneath my lips.
“What the?” Asher stops at the threshold, glaring at the four of us in bed. “So, this is what you guys did all day?”
Rad scoffs. “I won eight hundred bucks at the races all because of my good luck charm. Now, get off me,” he grunts, shoving me away from the warmth of River, who groans into his pillow. Rad glares at me the entire time he rifles through his closet, throwing on a shirt over his naked body, glaring more when he picks out a long shirt for River and throws it at her when she sits up without shame, catching it and putting it over her head.
“Band meeting,” Asher announces in a sharp voice. “We’ve got some business to discuss.” His eyes narrow on River, who wrestles to put on a long shirt she’s in, securing it over her ass when she sits on the edge of the bed with a scowl. Blinking wildly, she looks around the room, meeting Asher’s eyes.
Callum and Rad reluctantly peel themselves from the bed, knowing Asher means business when he barks orders. Without hesitation, Rad and Callum get dressed, throwing on comfortable clothes.
“Here,” Callum mutters, handing River a long pair of sweatpants from his drawer.
She murmurs thanks, pulling them up and securing the pants around her slim waist. Seeing their half-naked bodies and her wearing their clothes sends jealousy through me again.
Fuck.
That should be my shirt and my sweatpants. It should have been my hands all over her. I shake my head, tamping down the green monster threatening to burst through my skin. There’s no room for jealousy between us. I haven’t asked River to be only mine. Not that I could now. The way Rad grins at her when she tosses her hair into a messy bun and frowns at our existence has his eyes lighting up, and he’s as obsessed as I am. His whole face screams joy and happiness, and I couldn’t take that away from him. Or Callum. His entire being vibrates and simultaneously bursts with red cheeks. He’s absolutely smitten by her. Just like I am.
River isn’t just mine, no matter how badly I wish she were. She’s ours.
Asher stands rigid in the living room, watching us as we make our way into the room. River shuffles in behind us, mumbling something about coffee and possibly stabbing us.
“I’ll get you some,” Callum offers, squeezing her hand before heading into the kitchen and heating a cup of coffee. If I asked, he’d tell me to fuck right off and shoo me from the kitchen. But with her? He fucking lights up, pouring the cup.
I smirk when she hums into the warm mug sitting in the middle of the couch. Sighing, she sips her coffee as we all crowd around her, sitting on either side—Rad on her left and me on her right. Callum sits at the other end of the couch, keeping a distance from us. But his eyes don’t stray from her for too long.
“Can we do this now?” Asher growls, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“Someone grab the salt and draw a circle around him,” River mumbles into her cup, watching Asher with a mischievous spark lighting up her eyes.
His eyes snap in her direction, but he shakes his head, thinking better of saying anything.
“So, what’s going on, boss?” Rad asks, sitting back on the couch with a sigh.
“We have an opportunity,” I say, taking the reins of the conversation.
“Go on,” Callum softly says, rolling his wrist for me to continue.
“West Records is holding the Battle of the Bands at the KC Club,” Asher announces, opening a checklist he created on his phone.
The room falls into silence. Even River stiffens between us, eyeing our every move.
“It’s an application process, and only five applications will be selected. They invited the rest of the bands to compete. So, it’s stiff competition. All we have to do is have certain things checked off, and then we can submit our application through their website,” I say, leaning my elbows on my knees.
“We need more live shows,” Asher says, staring down at his phone. “We need to record a few songs and have them available on the Dot…”
“Like Sorcha does?” River asks, tilting her head to the side.
Asher’s calm eyes find hers, and he nods. “Exactly like she does. We have to figure out how to digitally get our music on there.”
“First, we have to figure out how to record the shit,” Rad mumbles, running a hand through his hair before dropping his head back. “There aren’t many recording studios in a hundred-mile radius, let alone one that’ll let us do it for cheap.” He shakes his head and worries his lip. “Maybe…”
“Um, Central City Community College has a recording studio. It’s part of the music business associates program,” River says, looking around the room warily. “I know a guy.” My ears instantly perk up at ‘know a guy,’ and my fingers curl in my lap, more jealousy running through my veins, ready to attack this so-called guy.
“Know a guy?” Rad asks, raising his head to meet her gaze. I snort because he beat me to it. The same jealousy sparks in his eyes, and images of us pounding our fists into the guy I don’t even know has a smirk pulling at my lips. Oh yes, we’d pummel him into next week for even thinking about talking to River. Shit. We’re hopeless and semi-toxic.
She instantly rolls her eyes and takes a sip of coffee. “Yeah, as in, I know a guy. Like we went to high school with him, and he’s the student head of that department right now. Meaning we need that guy to rent time to get to the studio. Meaning, you can’t kick his ass or whatever meat-headed ideas you have running through your caveman brains,” she says, shaking her head.
“Pretty Girl, I’m offended you would even consider me a meathead. I wasn’t…” Rad says with his hand on his chest.
“I see it in your eyes, Assface,” she grumbles, shimmying out from between our bodies. I almost don’t let her go but grin when she plunks down on Callum’s lap, and he engulfs her with his arms. “I’ll be with my new favorite over here until you two decide to play nice.”
Callum’s cheeks turn a deep red, and his eyes widen. “Fav-favorite?” he murmurs through a heavy breath. She grins, nestling further into him.
“Am I going to have to make a rule about no chicks at band meetings?” Asher snarls, gaining all of our attention. “We still have more shit to discuss.”
“No, please go ahead, Evil Ash,” she says with a smirk, sipping her coffee. “I won’t interrupt with my brilliant ideas again.”
“Bro!” Rad says, throwing a small couch pillow at Ash. “She just said she could secure us a spot at a legit recording studio. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, dickweed.”
“Now say you’re sorry,” I antagonize, nodding my head at a grinning River, who squirms in Callum’s lap.
Asher closes his eyes like an impatient parent and blows out a breath. I know it’s taking everything in him to keep his shit together, but it’s too much fun fucking with him. He’s like a loose cannon. One day, he’ll explode, and I can’t fucking wait to see it.
With one last deep breath, he refocuses on her with a grateful smile. “Thank you for the suggestion. We’d appreciate it if you could kindly point us in the right direction.”
River snorts. “Who knew Evil Ash could be so kind?” she snickers into her coffee but nods. “I’ll text Rion today and see when the studio is available. I’ll get it all set up and let you know.”
Rad jumps in the air and whoops. “You’re the best, Pretty Girl.”
“What else do we have to do?” I ask.
“Performance videos, social media presence, we need to build up our audience, and maybe get some more venues under our belt.” Asher worries his lips, swiping through his phone. “And we have to submit all of this before November 1st. Submissions start on September 1st. So, we don’t have very long to get all this done.” He gives one last nod before looking at our smiling faces around the room. Even River feels the excitement humming through us.
“It’s time to make our dreams happen,” Callum says with a grin.
“We’re going to be famous!” Rad whoops, throwing his fist in the air, and shakes his ass.
“We’re really going to do this,” Asher says, letting his excitement come through.
“We are,” I agree, rubbing my hands together.
“I can give you the hook up to more venues around Illinois. I’ve been in contact with people from The Umbrella Club and The Barn.” My eyebrows raise to my hairline when she mentions the two best venues around Central City. “Hell, I can get you more gigs at Dead End if you want.”
Looking around, I see the awe in everyone’s eyes. River may not be able to introduce us to her family like we initially planned—which, in hindsight, was dumb. But she’s still our best bet at more gigs at other venues.
“You’re like our sugar band manager,” Rad quips.
“A sugar band manager? Are you high?” she asks, setting her coffee cup on the end table. “But yeah, I can help you in that area. As long as we have one thing understood,” she says sternly, raising a brow.
“Yeah? And what’s that?” Asher asks, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“My father abandoned me years ago. I have no contact with him or my brothers. I can’t help you with connections. But…” She bites her lip, looking down at her lap, looking more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her in front of us. Sure, as a kid, she spilled her guts and tears, but that was just for me. This is for all of us. She’s opening herself up to the room instead of just one person. “But I can help you with this if you want me to.”
Callum leans in, whispering in her ear as his hands work up and down her arms.
“Nah, Pretty Girl. We never expected you to do that,” Rad whispers, guilt tinging his tone.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t lie to me,” River says in a light tone, leaning into Callum. My heart kicks up at her words. Did she know that’s why we initially tracked her down at the bar? Shit. I hope not. “Anyway, I’ll help you. But when you go, I want to come with you.” She rushes her words, nervously licking her lips.
My heart seizes at her confession, and her eyes stay firmly in her lap.
“I want to see California…” She’d never admit she wanted to meet them, but her brothers are there, and we’d be there, too.
“Well, that saves Kieran from having to kidnap you then,” Asher says in an oddly vibrant tone. “All right, let’s get to work. We got lots of shit to cover before we’re ready.” Asher claps, marches toward the basement door, and throws it open. “I’ll meet you down here,” he says one last time before disappearing into the depths of the basement. The sound of his guitar coming to life filters through the house, and one string at a time, he tunes it.
“You heard the man,” Rad says with a grin, climbing to his feet. “You coming, Pretty Girl. We can give you your own private concert.”
Callum rolls his eyes and kisses her cheek. “He tends to get naked.”
“Well, in that case,” she says sarcastically, climbing off his lap and plunking down on the couch.
“You’ll stay?” I ask as the other two meander toward the door but look back with hopeful looks. Leaning down, I get eye level, staring into the abyss of her moss-green eyes.
Her nose wrinkles, and she nods. “I’m calling my ma and making sure she’s okay. Then, I’ll text Rion and get you a spot at the studio. But yeah, if everything is fine there, I’ll stay,” she says, blowing out a breath. “But don’t get used to it.” A slight grin picks up the edges of her lips, and I laugh.
“River Blue,” I murmur, leaning forward and pressing my lips to hers. “Be a good girl and stay here. I’ll reward you later.” I grin when her cheeks flush, and her eyes dilate wide, letting me know she will enjoy the reward I give her later.
Images of River coming to California with us rush through my mind. Us at the beach. Her at our concerts, egging us on from the sidelines. It’s a beautiful image of a beautiful future I can’t wait to explore.
As band practice continues, River slowly makes her way down and rests on the ratty old couch in the corner while playing on her phone. We each watch her with different intensity levels, but she seems to bring out the good in us. Our music gets heavier and better. A new song emerges from the flames of our fingers, and we dive into a new chapter of our lives.
One with River in it at our side.
Forever.