Chapter 22
Z
When I told Rocky that I’d been playing new music for him first lately, I hadn’t told him the whole truth.
I had omitted the fact that I’d struggled to write anything at all since my mom died and that the only “new” music I’d put out on my ClikByte platform was shit I’d created and saved on my hard drive years ago.
I’d neglected to mention that since Noah joined Team Olympus and the whole mood of our house had shifted, it was like a creative block had been removed in my mind, and suddenly two years’ worth of lyrics, melodies, and beats were clamoring to get out and be heard.
I didn’t tell him any of that, though, because it sounded…
I don’t know. It sounded weird. Like I was crushing on him or something, when that wasn’t the case at all.
I just really enjoyed being around him. His energy was infectious, even when he was in a shitty mood.
Which was a lot right now, thanks to my best friends.
I desperately wanted to fix that…Ace, at least. They had been forming such a tight bond before the attack, and now they couldn’t be further apart.
Xavier was probably a lost cause. Sulky bastard. That relationship would have to mend itself, because the both of them would rather cut their own arms off with a butter knife than build any sort of bridge.
“That one was really good, Z,” Ace said through the recording booth speaker, snapping me back to reality. It’d been hours since Noah went to bed but I couldn’t seem to fully satisfy the muse until I recorded some tracks. “Did you want to listen to it back? See if you like it?”
“Nope,” I replied, shaking my head and scribbling some notes to myself in my notebook before flipping the page on my sheet music. “I trust your judgment. Let’s move on to the chorus.”
“All right, if you say so.” He was used to that from me.
Ace had a stupid amount of talents, more than anyone I’d ever known.
Literally anything he set his mind to, he had to be the best at.
And yet, instead of picking one niche and excelling, he decided to put together a team of misfits and somehow make it all work.
But I was eternally grateful that when we’d met as teens, he’d shown great interest in music producing and spent several summers interning at my grandfather’s record label.
Once he’d gained all the knowledge he needed, he turned down a golden offer from the label and started producing for me exclusively.
For free. Because he was just that kind of guy.
As it was, he’d been in the studio with me for several hours already, and my stomach was rumbling to remind me how late it really was.
I’d only gotten down a couple of pizza slices after playing my new melody for Rocky before instantly realizing where I’d gone wrong.
Then when my musical muse went to bed, I’d dragged Ace into the studio to record while it was fresh in my head.
“We should call it a night,” I said once we had the chorus recorded. “It’s like…” I peered at my phone and winced. “Three in the morning. Shit, sorry, dude. I didn’t even realize.”
“You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” He brushed off my apologies as I exited the sound booth. “I haven’t seen you this passionate about new music in a really long time, so I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, you know I never sleep before five a.m.”
He wasn’t joking about that. It was why his rooming with Xavier worked so well, because Xavi often woke up at five to head out for a morning ride, so they rarely slept at the same time.
“Still, that was longer than I intended. And I’m starving. Do you know if there’s any leftover pizza in the fridge?”
Ace shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Unlikely. Did you see the way Tor was inhaling slices earlier?”
I groaned, because yes, I had. He’d started some dumb competition with Minho in the gym when we first got home from Camp Beaver, so the both of them were like feral racoons fighting over the pizzas.
“Assholes.” I sulked as we made our way downstairs to the kitchen in search of a late night—-or early morning—-snack before bed. A search of the fridge confirmed the pizza was all gone, so I checked the pantry for inspiration. “Cereal, maybe? There’s a box of those honey nut flakes in here.”
“Those are Noah’s,” Ace replied, almost absentmindedly. “I could cook up some eggs, maybe?”
“Will you make them into a smiley face for me with a strip of bacon as the mouth and toast triangle hair?” I shot back seriously, propping my hip against the counter.
Ace glowered. “Fuck no. Let’s eat the cereal.”
“Good idea,” I agreed, pulling out the box and dishing it up into two bowls while he fetched the milk and spoons. We sat at the island counter and ate in silence before a shadow of movement outside caught my attention. “Um…what was that?” I asked, rising from my stool with concern.
After the attack on Noah and Ace, we’d all been hyperaware of security, and I knew the company had put a lot of work into ensuring our property was not easily accessed, but someone was out by the pool. I was sure of it.
Ace was right beside me as I rushed over to the balcony door and confirmed there was definitely a person standing out by the pool—-but it wasn’t an intruder.
It was Rocky.
“What’s he doing out there at this time of night?” I murmured, heart racing. I’d really thought it was another psycho coming to harm my teammates, but now I was worried for a whole different reason.
“I don’t know,” Ace admitted softly. “You go to bed; I’ll talk to him.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re likely to get pushed in the pool or nut--punched. I’ll sort him out. Don’t worry.” I patted him on the shoulder then left him inside as I made my way down the steps to the pool area.
Noah was standing with his back to the house, his head bowed like he was half asleep or something.
But his proximity to the water had me nervous, remembering how awful it’d been when Torin needed to pull him out and perform CPR to bring him back to life.
How scared we’d all been when he didn’t wake up for days afterwards.
I’d personally rather concrete over the whole pool than risk that happening again.
“Hey, Rocky,” I called out gently as I approached, worried that if he was sleepwalking, he might fall in. “What are you doing out here?”
He raised his head to look my way, sweeping a hand through his icy--platinum hair. “How was your recording session? Did you get the song finished?”
I moved closer, trying to get a better look at his face, but the darkness plus blue pool lights were casting an eerie shadow over his features. “Yeah, pretty much. You know it’s the middle of the night, Rocks? You should be asleep. What’s going on?”
He gave a short laugh turning his attention back to the pool for a moment. “It’s technically morning, Z, and you’re not really one to talk.”
I winced. “Ah, did we keep you awake? I thought we’d fixed the acoustic paneling in the studio, but shit, dude, just tell me to cut it out next time.”
“No, you’re fine. Soundproofed as fuck. I just…
couldn’t sleep.” His eyes were looking down again, his hair hanging loose around his face, and I had a new appreciation for why Minho was constantly tying Noah’s hair up.
I didn’t like not being able to see his face and read his emotions when he usually wore them so openly.
It wasn’t until I moved close enough to put my hand on his shoulder that I realized what had captured his attention.
“Ah, I see,” I murmured, also staring down at the tiles at Noah’s feet.
The pool surrounds were all a creamy white travertine, but it was a porous stone that had soaked Ace’s blood in like a sponge and refused to let it go.
No amount of pressure washing had managed to get the stain out, and I knew Ace had recently spoken with a tiler about replacing those squares.
I didn’t really know what to say about it, though. Gosh, it must suck to revisit the spot you and Ace nearly died during a traumatic home invasion. Hey, you want some cereal?
“I feel guilty,” he admitted in a small voice.
“Ace wouldn’t have been in this position if not for me.
That guy, Donovan, he was here because of me.
He was violent because of me. And then when I tried to save Ace, I nearly killed him.
All this blood… This is my fault. I saw the scar on his wrist earlier, and I can’t stop thinking about how I did that to him. ”
“Rocky, with all due respect,” I said softly, keeping my hand on his skinny shoulder for physical connection, to keep him in the moment with me, “not everything is about you, bro.”
That pulled him out of his melancholy self--pity party, his head snapping up and his gaze meeting mine with confusion. “What? I didn’t—-”
“I mean, you did,” I cut him off with a lopsided grin.
“It’s cool, though. I sometimes think the whole world revolves around me too, and then I remember that it doesn’t and suddenly it’s easier to breathe again.
Just chill, Rocky. If not you, something else would have triggered what’s--his--face.
If not us, then maybe another team. You can’t live in the past, and you can’t accept responsibility for everyone else’s shitty choices.
You saved Ace’s life, period, end of story, nothing more to it. ”
A crease formed between Noah’s far--too--girly brows, and he glowered up at me. Shit, he really was short; no wonder Xavier kept teasing him.
“When did you get so wise, Z? You’re too young to be so smart.”
I grinned, shrugging. “I have my moments. Now, do you want to go inside and watch old ClikByte shorts of Xavier wiping out in competitions? I have them saved in a folder on the main TV for when I’m having a bad day and need to smile.”
That, I saw instantly, was the perfect thing to suggest because his pretty little face lit up with excitement. “Does he properly wipe out or just little whoopsies?”
“Oh, dude, just you wait. I have one saved where he goes flying over the handlebars and smacks his nuts on his own GoPro. It’s fantastic.
” Chuckling, I looped my arm around Noah’s shoulders and guided him back into the house, chatting the whole way about my favorite Xavier wipeouts and pondering whether they’d make for a good birthday video for Xavi.
Especially considering he was born on April Fools’ Day.
I got Noah set up on the couch with pillows and blankets, then went to microwave a bag of popcorn, because shit, why not? While I was in there, though, I took a moment to send Ace a text.
We needed those tiles changed yesterday. And maybe a safety net over the pool.