Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Cole · Now
Days That Shape Our Lives – Me Vs Hero
Hendrix stumbles into the studio, hair windswept, cheeks stained red from the bitter autumn chill outside.
Backpack slung over one shoulder, my keys dangle from her fingers as she slurps from a large thermos. She drops the bag to the floor and tugs open her coat.
“You’re here early.”
She jumps at my voice, a hand slapping against her chest as liquid spurts from her mouth.
“Fucking hell, dude.” She shakes her head and places the thermos down. “Why are you sitting around like a creeper?”
I arch a brow, laughter bubbling up my throat.
I remember thinking the first day we met how I didn’t want to look like a creeper in front of her. And here we are. Full circle moment, I guess. “I live here.”
“You live right here, in the lounge of your studio, do you?” she deadpans.
I hide my grin behind my hand. “I forgot how feisty you are when you’re embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” She rolls her eyes. “You just scared the shit out of me, is all. I didn’t expect anyone to be here. Figured I’d get some time in before Ax or Saint decide to show their faces asking for updates. What’s your excuse for being down here at the arse crack of dawn?”
I don’t miss the way she bypasses Carter’s name. Seems he really drove the point home with their one interaction on Friday. “I couldn’t sleep.”
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and nods.
I watch her from the corner of my eye as she kicks off thick soled chequered vans, before snatching up the sheet music I've been working on and settling into the oversized armchair.
She hugs her knees to her chest, resting her head on them as she scans the pages.
My stomach twists at how quickly she’s made herself at home in our studio.
Pretty sure I’m not supposed to love it so damn much.
“I was thinking we should probably try some lyrics today.” She places the sheet music on the arm of the chair before pulling her hair into a sleek ponytail. “I’ve gotta head home tonight, so I want to see if we can get at least one song fully drafted before I leave.”
My pulse jumps. “You’re going home?”
“Yeah.” She turns to me with a soft smile. “Riles needs to get back for some work stuff, and I’ve got a client in the studio tomorrow.”
I swipe my pick down the strings. “Makes sense. Can’t stay in London forever, huh? So we’ll just do this through texts and emails like we originally planned?”
Her brows furrow, a line creasing the corner of her mouth. “It’s just that I promised Talia’s brother, Marcus, that I’d mix an album for him. So I have to go meet with him.”
“Talia’s brother?” I frown. “The guy you were on the phone to the other day is Talia’s brother?”
Her eyes crease. “Yeah. He’s an aspiring hip hop artist. Talia asked me as a favour.”
“Her brother?”
“Are you just gonna keep repeating that?” she asks slowly.
“No, sorry.” I force a laugh.
Confusion lines her face.
I look away, pushing the lingering question of her relationship status from my mind. It doesn’t change anything. She’s still leaving. I'll still be here. And there’s still ten years of distance between us.
“So, lyrics, then?” I ask.
“Yes.” She coughs and pulls her phone from her pocket. “I was thinking with the ghost theme and the piano incorporation, we could start here.” She tosses the device into my lap, her notes open.
I stare down at the two lines.
Haunting the halls where we used to dream,
tinkling keys echo the songs that we streamed
“Hmm, very poignant.” I chuckle.
A smile tugs at her lips, but she brushes it away with her thumb. “It fits the vibe, it just depends on whether you want something more serious or playful to kind of off-set the melody. If you hate it, we can just—”
“I don’t hate it. It just feels…” I hum, my nose crinkling.
“Stiff?”
“No, not that. They seem familiar, maybe?”
“Huh.” Her lips turn down. “Chuck me my phone.”
I do as she asks and she snatches it mid-air. Her thumbs punch against the screen, her frown deepening as she scrolls. “Nothing’s coming up on Google. Are you sure it’s familiar?”
I lift my shoulders. “Maybe we’ve used them before?”
“Maybe.” She taps a finger on her chin. “When I get home, I’ll fish out all our old stuff and bring it back with me and we can figure it out then. I guess for now we’ll just try something else. You got anything?”
“You’re coming back?”
“Yeah, I said that, didn’t I?”
“No, you just said you had to go home.”
“Oh.” A tinkling laugh spills from her. “Sorry. I’ve got a few things to wrap up back home but I’ll be back here Friday morning. Ready to work and with no plans to leave until we’ve finished the album.”
I itch the back of my neck as heat slithers up my spine.
She flicks her tongue over her lip stud. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t, then obviously I can stay at home and we can do it virtual—”
“No,” I blurt.
Hendrix jerks in her seat, phone slipping from her hand.
My cheeks flame.
I tap my knuckles on the body of my acoustic, I school my expression. “No, I think doing it together is better. Makes more sense.”
A high-pitched shriek pierces the air as I step out of my flat.
Lyric and Melody fly past me and down the stairs with Theo hot on their heels.
I chuckle, following their path to the studio.
Pretty sure Carter has banned them from entering for as long as Hendrix is around. But if there’s one thing his daughters are going to do, it’s ignore his rules with a big smile on their face.
It’s a good job Hendrix has already left and won’t be back for a couple days. There is no way I’m mentally prepared to deal with the fallout of that introduction.
I push the live room door to be greeted by Melody tinkling her fingers over the piano while Lyric bounces up and down on Theo’s stomach.
“Help me,” Theo shrieks.
I scoop Lyric off her and swing her onto my shoulders, before wrapping my hand around Theo’s and dragging her up to standing. “Are you on Terror Twin duty?”
“Yeah, Cart’s busy with his dad,” she tells me. “We had a day of ballet planned in the studio, but a pipe burst.”
I tug at the pink tulle itching my neck. “That explains the tutus.”
“Yep.” She laughs. “They insisted. Couldn’t really say no when they asked me to take them shopping.”
I get that. How Carter and Noah ever say no to their daughters is beyond me.
One look in their sparkling eyes, and I’m a fucking goner.
Lyric tugs at my hair. “Uncle Coley.”
“Yes, sweetheart?” I peer up at her.
“Do you have any new songs to play us?”
I tickle her ankle and she giggles. “Not yet. Soon, maybe.”
“How soon?” she demands with a pout.
“Do you pressure all your uncles like this, or is it just me?” I wrap an arm around her back and tug her down so she’s hooked on my hip, green eyes meeting mine. “What did I tell you about patience?”
“It’s a birtue.”
“Virtue, baby girl,” Theo corrects, before she looks up at me curiously. “How’s all that going? With—”
She glances at Lyric, who watches us with wide eyes and nosey ears.
I ease her down. “Shoo. Go wreck one of Uncle Saint’s guitars or something.”
“Can I?” She bounces on her heels, looking at Theo.
Theo winks. “Go for it.”
I laugh as Lyric dives for the drawers tucked in the corner. “One of these days, she’s going to realise that wrecking guitars isn’t putting stickers all over the wood and then we’re fucked. You know that, right?”
“Eh. He’ll get over it.” She grins cheekily, and nudges my bicep. “And you’re stalling.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“You forget I’ve known you forever.”
“Never.” I rock her shoulder before dropping down onto the couch. “It’s fine.”
She arches a brow.
“Better than. It’s going, dare I say, well.”
“That’s good, right?” she asks, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and tucking her legs beneath her.
“Yeah. I think so, it’s just…” I sigh. “I don’t know anything about her. She’s the same, and yet she’s not. And I don’t know how to deal with that.”
Theo twists a curl around her finger, eyes dancing over the room. “Saint said he spoke to her the other night.”
“At least that makes one of us.” A dry laugh crawls up my throat.
Theo exhales. “Look, I’m not going to pretend I understand how you’re feeling. If Saint and I had broken up when you guys did, I can’t imagine the person I’d be today. And we weren’t together half as long as you two.”
“That does—”
She holds a finger up, sending a pointed glance. “Not finished.”
“Don’t get all teacher on me, woman.”
She ignores me. “But, have you tried talking to her? Getting to know the woman she is today?”
“I don’t know how,” I say simply. “I’ve spent ten years imagining who Hendrix Moore would become. What if she doesn’t meet my expectations? Or worse, still. What if she meets every single one?”
“What would be preferable?”
“Fucked if I know.” I scrub a hand down my face and tip my head back, peeking at her through my lashes. “What would you do?”
She spins her wedding ring, her lips twisting. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“Helpful.” I laugh. “Thanks for the chat, friend.”
“You’re very welcome.” A flicker of a smile crosses her lips before it disappears.
“You okay?” I ask her, scanning her face.
“Yeah. Just thinking how I ended up with only you guys as friends.” A hollow laugh slips her lip and she closes her eyes. “How sad is my life?”
I reach over and place my hand on top of hers. “Hey, we’re great friends to have. But I happen to know a woman who I’m sure would love to be your friend again.”
“Yeah?” She cracks her eyes open a slither.
“Yeah, just because I don’t know how to talk to her, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”
“Are you only asking me so I can do recon for you?”
I faux gasp. “Would I ever do that?”
“Yes,” she deadpans, but her mouth twitches and she squeezes my fingers. “Send me her number, friend.”