Chapter 39
Chapter thirty-nine
Hendrix · Now
Out Of The Woods – Relic Hearts
The box of tea bags I ran out to get falls to the floor with a light thud as I freeze in the doorway.
The two sofas in the lounge have been pushed together to make a giant bed style thing, piled high with what has to be every duvet and pillow in the building.
Snacks and pop cans cover every inch of the coffee table, and the opening credits of The Conjuring is flickers across a projector screen that takes up the whole far wall.
Saint is tucked into one armchair, a beer hanging from his fingers, with Theo draped over his legs. Axel takes up a third of the sofa, while Carter looms in the other armchair. His face an unreadable mask but when he looks up at me, he tips his chin in greeting and my stomach swims.
It’s not much, but it’s progress.
A click of shoes sends a jolt straight to my heart.
I feel Cole before I see him.
I shift my weight onto one foot, peeking from the corner of my eyes when he stops next to me.
“What is happening right now?” I ask.
“We’re not done playing hooky just yet.” His mouth twitches as he drags his gaze over me, his arm brushing mine. Sparks flicker through my veins. I curl my fingers, release them, then curl them again.
“It’s movie night, Rixie.” He inches closes, bridging the last of the distance between us. “And I met this woman today. She told me all about these movies. Said they tell the greatest love story of all time.”
I twist my thumb ring and glance up at him. “She sounds like a smart lady.”
“Sometimes she is.” His pinkie finger hooks around mine. “But not on this one, so now I have a point to prove.”
My chest tugs, drawing me closer to him when he leans down. “What point?”
“That it’s the second greatest love story of all time.”
“What’s the first?” I ask in a whisper.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” He tuts as he slides his thumb up.
The sleeve of his hoodie lifts just enough that I catch a glimpse of the aged black and grey ink etched into his wrist.
I blink, expecting the image to disappear when I open my eyes, but it doesn’t.
A lump forms in my throat and I look up into his honey eyes, my pulse stuttering.
His lips curl into a glorious grin that brightens his whole face. “The greatest love story is still being written.”
The cushion bounces beneath me when Axel shoots off the sofa, a scream tearing from his lips.
He spins to face Cole, who sits in the middle of the couch, his arm draped across the back.
“The fuck is this?” Axel shrieks. “You said we were watching a love story.”
Cole chortles. “Blame Rixie. She said it, not me.”
“It is a love story,” I mutter into my steamy mug.
“I told you all after she made us watch the entire Disney channel catalogue that she shouldn’t be allowed movie night picks,” Carter says, shoving Axel back down. “But no. Nobody ever listens to me.”
I hike a brow. “Pretty sure you loved Lemonade Mouth, actually.”
Carter gives me a deadpan look.
I shrink into the cushion and stifle my laugh with my hand.
His face doesn’t move, but there’s a slight crease at the corner of his eye.
I know I need to talk to him at some point—I need to talk to all of them. I’ve no idea what comes after Cole and I have finished their next album.
The road is murky, with no clear signs for which way it leads. But the least I can do before it’s all over is give them the closure I didn’t last time.
Just not tonight.
Tonight, I’m being selfish and revelling in a new version of a memory I’ve relived a thousand times over.
Cole’s thumb brushes my neck as he leans forward to grab his drink.
I shudder, goosebumps dancing over my skin in the wake of his warm touch.
Theo yips, tugging her blanket over her face as she sinks deeper into Saint’s lap. “I’m with Ax. This is terrifying. There is no way I’m sleeping tonight.”
“Who said anything about sleeping, Teddy?” Saint asks, his voice an octave lower than usual before he plants a kiss on her neck.
Cole groans, tipping his head back, as he scrubs a hand down his face. “Get the fuck out if you’re gonna start shagging.”
Saint clicks his tongue.
He winks at me, before turning to Cole with a smirk. “Feeling a bit frustrated over there, are we?”
I bury my face into my mug as fire sears my cheeks.
Cole flips him the finger.
“Ooh, are we finally gonna talk about the raging elephant in the room?” Axel asks, clapping his hands like a kid in a sweet shop.
“There is no elephant,” Cole mumbles.
There is definitely an elephant.
Axel ignores Cole. He clambers over our legs and snatches his phone from the coffee table. “Let me just video call Renaissance. She’s gonna want in on this conversation.”
“Good God,” Carter grunts. “It gets worse with every name.”
“Shh, Daddy, it’s not about you, right now.” Axel is scrolling his phone when Theo jumps up and snatches it from him. “Hey!”
“Stop being a child,” she says.
He scowls at her. “Yes, Miss.”
“That’s Mrs Parker to you,” she deadpans.
Thank you, I mouth as she passes me.
She gives me a wink before pushing Axel back onto the couch, and tucking his phone into her bra. “You can get this back when you learn to behave like the thirty-three-year-old you are.”
He blobs his tongue out at her, folding his arms over his chest.
My grip tightens on the mug handle.
I peek at Cole from the corner of my eye. His body is angled toward mine, his hand splayed next to my thigh. If I pulled the thick black duvet covering our legs even an inch, his fingers would be on me.
His words from earlier float through my mind.
I want to believe what he said, but I can’t pretend the weight of our breakup doesn’t still hang over us like a black cloud. Not to mention the added weight of what happens tomorrow when we’re no longer playing hooky.
He presses into my shoulder, lips hovering near my ear. “You’re staring.”
My cheeks flush and I drop my voice to a whisper, “If you don’t mind, I’m very busy watching the movie.”
“I do mind. I quite like you staring at me, Rixie Moore.” Heat rolls off him and curls around me as he slides deeper into the leather.
His fingers dance across the duvet, inching closer to my thigh. “You said something to me the other night, can you remember?”
I drain the remnants of my tea, though it does nothing to help my dry throat.
“No?” The low rasp of his voice vibrates along my earlobe.
I shake my head.
His breath skates my ears and I shiver. “It was enlightening.”
I rack my brain, scrambling for those missing pieces.
The club, the booth, the champagne, Saint—
I gulp. “You picked us up?”
“Hm.”
“And I…” Oh fuck. I clear my throat and turn back to the screen. “Don’t remember.”
“That’s a shame.” His tongue flicks my ear as he clicks it.
He settles back into his cushion, his arm still lazing along the couch back, fingertips dancing across my neck.
I try to focus on the screen but my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing because of the man at my side. A man who somehow brings every single wall I build down without me even realising he’s doing it.
“Is this really your favourite movie?” he asks, his voice low.
I hum, refusing to look at him. I know if I do, I’ll surrender. “This or Moulin Rouge.”
“Didn't that make you cry?”
I suck in my cheeks, stifling a chuckle. “Every. Single. Time.”
“Rixie, I didn’t know you were a closet masochist.”
The corner of my lips quirks, and I shift ever so slightly toward him. “Why else would I have all these tattoos and piercings, if I didn’t like just a little pain?”
“All, she says.” His pupils flare as I peek up at him. “Where does all entail, one might wonder.”
I flick the stud in my lips. “Are you asking about the ink or the metal?”
He shuffles the duvet, and tugs it out from under our arms before pulling it up to our shoulders. The sweet scent of tea sweet lingers in the air as he leans closer.
“If you show me yours…” The room hushes at his low rasp. Movie forgotten, I turn to him. The hair on my nape rises and my veins buzz as he presses his lips against mine. “I’ll show you mine.”
My eyes flutter closed, my heart thumping when his breath caresses mine.
I’ve kissed Cole a thousand times in my life, in a hundred different ways, but not a single one of them felt this overwhelming. This consuming. His fingers dig into my thigh, the rings chilling my overheated skin even through the layer of my leggings. My mouth parts, his tongue swipes, we mo—
“Mother fuck!”
I jerk back at Axel’s shout.
Porcelain smashes on the hardwood, my mug smashed to smithereens from the force of my elbow hitting it.
I curl my fingers around my jumper sleeves as I spring up. My feet tangle in the duvet, dragging it off the couch. I grab the sofa arm before I tumble to the ground.
My face flames, my chest thumping.
I duck my head.
“I’ll just…” I spin and dart towards the kitchen. “Clean this up.”
Five pairs of eyes burn a hole into my back as I tug doors open and slam them closed.
My search for a dustpan and brush proves fruitless, and with every empty cupboard I come across the air thickens in my throat as fire stokes my body.
“Definitely calling Row Row.” Axel bursts into raucous laughter. “I think the elephant just exploded.”