Chapter 32 #2
Hendrix steps up to my side. “My brother-in-law is quite protective. Especially when there are baseless claims made against his wife.”
“So the rumors aren’t true?” the pap presses.
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” Hendrix answers in a cool and calm voice. I’m so angry, I’m not even sure I can speak right now. He casually pats my shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re here to celebrate our father, not entertain rumors.”
He turns, giving them his back, and then leans, whispering, “Just focus on Pres. Try to act normal, and we’ll figure out what the fuck he’s talking about when we get inside, okay?”
It’s like he flipped a switch in my brain.
Pres.
I nod, and he steps back in line with Zara as if nothing ever happened. I turn back to my wife, who’s standing tall in her gorgeous red gown. Her eyes meet mine, and I know by the way her throat works that she’s trying to hold it together.
I need to distract her.
“Did you know that when we were at that birthday party in high school, I spent the entire seven minutes in Bethany’s room trying to think of a reason to kiss you that wouldn’t piss off Hendrix?”
A laugh escapes her lips, and I can tell she’s fighting tears. “What were some of the reasons you came up with?”
I keep up my distraction technique as we continue toward the red carpet. Lance and Tilly have already posed for photos, as well as Cash and Myles.
“Well, keep in mind that I was seventeen and an idiot back then, but a few of the better ones were offering to teach you CPR.”
“Oh my god.” She laughs.
“Oh, it gets better,” I warn her. “There was also one from way out in left field that I heard you could pass on healing energy through kissing, and I was feeling a little under the weather.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I told you I was an idiot.” I shrug. “But the best one was that I was going to tell you I was a bad kisser, and I needed lessons. But we needed to keep it a secret—obviously.”
“Now that one I might have actually fallen for.”
I look down at her and grin. “That I was a bad kisser or that I would come to you for lessons?”
“You never dated, so—”
I bend down and kiss her, causing her to laugh. It’s music to my fucking ears. Two minutes ago, she was near tears, and now she’s laughing. If I can keep making her laugh like this for the rest of our lives, I’ll forever be a happy man. “Because I was yearning for you.”
“Never gonna hear that word and not think of you in the shower again.”
“I’m actually okay with that.”
Mercury is about to be photographed next, and she looks super nervous. Her dark brown hair is down for a change, and she’s decked out in a shimmering gold gown. Her bright blue eyes flick around, unsure of what to do with her hands and where to look.
“She hates these kinds of things,” Pres whispers. “We’ve all had some media training, but Mercury just kind of freezes whenever she’s in the spotlight.”
“Shouldn’t someone have gone with her?”
Her face contorts. “It’s usually me. The guys probably didn’t think about it.”
Merc looks so miserable. I’m seriously thinking about going up there and rescuing her. But then there’s a commotion, and all the cameras start swinging to the left as Asher Knight walks onto the red carpet.
“Asher! Asher, over here!”
He ignores all of them and instead walks up to a stunned Mercury. He whispers something in her ear, and she laughs and nods. Then, they turn together, and the cameras begin flashing.
“Did I miss something?” I ask, watching the two of them.
“What?” Pres looks at me, then at them. “Oh, no. Asher is just a family friend. He’s just being nice.”
I watch how Merc glances up at Asher. Mostly gratitude, for sure. But there’s something else there too. Longing, maybe? I would know, I guess. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I mean, Merc had a crush on him when she was younger, but she’s over it now. Besides, can you imagine her with a rock star like Asher? She’d never handle that kind of attention.”
Hendrix and Zara go next, and the camera goes crazy as the two make eyes at each other. “Your brother looks happy.”
She smiles. “I’m so glad he found Zara. Not just because she helped diagnose him so early, but because they’re so good together.”
I nod, understanding what she means. “They bring out the best in each other.”
She looks into my eyes. “Exactly.”
When it’s our moment to step into the spotlight, I do exactly what Hendrix told me to do. I focus on my wife.
I mimic Hendrix and stand slightly angled toward Pres with my hand on her hip. She beams up at me and then faces the cameras.
And then it’s over.
We head inside, where we’re ushered into a VIP room reserved for family and guests. Champagne and fancy hors d’oeuvres are being passed around. Lance is shaking hands with someone as Tilly beams with pride for her husband.
We barely step two feet inside when Hendrix grabs my arm and tries to pull me aside. But I raise a hand, halting him.
I turn to Pres. “Are you okay if I talk to Hen about this?”
She nods. “He already knows, thanks to that guy outside.”
I take her hand. “Doesn’t mean I have to discuss it with him, or anyone else, if you don’t want me to.”
She brushes her thumb over mine. “No, it’s okay. I think it’s time we stop hiding everything.”
My brow lifts. “Everything?”
She laughs. “Maybe we just start with this.”
She heads over to the bar with Zara while Hen and I find a quiet spot in the corner. His expression looks almost murderous by the time he finally speaks. A softie, Pres? Really? “Is that what that asshole did to her? A sex tape?” he hisses. “I thought you said it was taken care of.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “It was. It is,” I stress. “I don’t know how this guy knows. There are no rumors—”
“He seemed to think there were.”
“There aren’t. Believe me. I hired a digital intel guy who’s been monitoring the internet since the day we filed the report. It’s been quiet.”
“And Jace is still in jail?”
“Yup. No one posted his bail after his arraignment, so he’s rotting in there until his trial. Our lawyer thinks she can get him at least three to five, even if he asks for a plea deal.”
“Good.” He pauses, then asks, “Does Pres know you’ve got a guy cyber stalking her?”
I scoff. “Of course she does. I don’t keep things from my wife.” He arches a brow. “Well, not those kinds of things.”
“Speaking of secrets, I talked to Zander.”
I decide not to remind him that he promised to keep this a secret and let him go on. As long as Pres doesn’t find out what we’re planning. “And?”
“He gave me a recommendation.”
“Are you going to give it to me?”
“Depends,” he answers.
I tilt my head. “On?”
“I’m curious, and don’t take this the wrong way, but how exactly can you afford something like this? I know Pres said you do something in entertainment? Are you a famous juggler? Stuntman?
“Juggler?” I snort out a laugh. “That’s all you could come up with? Why couldn’t I be a comedian or a social media influencer?”
He gives me a lackluster stare, and I laugh. “Social media influencer, Hollis? Seriously?”
I laugh. “Yeah, okay. Bit of a stretch. Wrong kind of entertainment too. I run a nightclub.”
“You? Really?”
I chuckle. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I literally had to drag you to parties in high school. I thought you were allergic to fun, Hollis.”
“I wasn’t allergic to fun,” I argue, remembering my nights on the beach with Presley. “I was just allergic to that kind of fun.”
A server comes by and offers us champagne. He takes a glass. I decline. “So you make that kind of cash running a single nightclub?”
“No. My partner and I own several other businesses as well.” I hesitate, feeling nervous. He notices and meets my gaze. “I own Velvet, Hen.”
It takes him a moment to connect the dots, and then his eyes widen. “The swanky club the band went to in Nashville?”
I nod.
“So you knew we were there?”
Another nod.
“And you didn’t think to drop in and say hello to your former best friend?” His expression is pained. “I died a little that day you left, Hollis. We all did. Pres walked around like a ghost for weeks. My dad tried everything to find you.”
I look away, too overwhelmed to speak. But then I feel the warmth of a familiar hand slip into mine. “Let it go, Hen,” Pres tells him, coming to my side. “He wasn’t ready to confront you that night at Velvet, and you guilt-shaming him for it isn’t going to help.”
“I wasn’t—” Hen tries to argue.
“You were,” Pres stands firm. “You may not have done it intentionally, but the result was the same. All that matters is that Hollis is here now, where he belongs—with us. And when he’s ready, I’m sure he’ll be happy to sit down and talk with you about everything.”
Both Hen and I stand there sort of stunned.
“You’re right,” Hen agrees, then shakes his head, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You two really are crazy about each other, aren’t you?”
“Yup,” Pres answers. “Now go check on your girlfriend. I left her with Darius, and I’m pretty sure he’s hitting on her.”
His eyes jerk up. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. He promised me he’d stop that!”
He stalks off to go after his bandmate, and I turn to her. “That was—”
“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I was just coming over to see if you wanted a drink and—”
I silence her with a kiss. She lets out a little gasp of surprise. I pull back before I get too carried away. “You stuck up for me.”
“Well, yeah.” She laughs. “We’re a team, remember?”
I smile. “Hell yeah, I do.”
But we’re not just a team.
She and I—we’re a family.