Chapter 67
Chapter sixty-seven
Hendrix · Now
Gold Steps – Neck Deep
Bestie!
I need your help
I shove my phone in my pocket, tighten my grip on the folder in my hand, and push the studio door open.
A smile tugs at my lips as the scent of lavender curls around me. A soft, supple melody fills the reception room. Talia shuffles across the floor, hips swaying, head bopping as she boogies to the music.
The door slides shut behind me.
I press my back to the wood and fold my arms over my chest. My eyes drag along the walls, the framed vinyl’s, the lyric prints—all the work Talia and I have done together over the last five years.
The warm air settles around me, sinking into my bones like a hug from an old friend.
God, I love this place.
I’ll never not love this place.
It gave me a purpose when I was so lost.
But it’s time to let go of the things I was holding on to when I didn’t know who I was.
I blink, choking down the heady emotions crawling up my throat.
Talia bends her legs, twisting her body left to right.
I slap a hand over my mouth, but the tinkling giggle slips out anyway.
She startles.
Her foot slips beneath her, and she tumbles to the floor with a shriek.
“Shit.” I laugh, pushing off the door.
She grunts, slapping her palm into my outstretched hand.
I drag her up. “Are you okay?”
“I think I broke my arse.” She winces, scrubbing at her arsecheek. Then she rocks my shoulder with a light fist. “Cheers for that, babe.”
“Sorry.” Another giggle. “I was trying not to interrupt your dance break.”
“Why are you home, anyway?” Her gaze narrows as she drags it over me. “You didn’t say you were coming back.”
“Just a flying visit.” I shrug a shoulder and point to the speaker. “What song is this? I’ve never heard it before.”
She grins, all teeth. “Harriet Hunter’s new album.”
“The country singer?”
Talia has always wanted to work in country music. But there’s never been a huge scene in the UK. While it’s growing at a steady pace, it’s not as big as other genres. Harriet Hunter is a rising star, but from what I’ve seen, her team is very selective about who they work with.
Talia nods, bouncing on her feet. “The one and only. She found me on Instagram, and reached out personally. Came in last week, laid down a track, and then asked if I’d want to work on her album with her.”
“Oh my god, Talia.” I squeeze her hand. “That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
She props one foot behind her ankle and dips in a bow. “Thank you.”
“I guess you really do get more work done around here without me, huh?”
The folder feels lighter in my hands as I watch my friend experiencing pure ecstasy. She shakes her head, but I don’t miss the glint in her eyes as she finds her own dreams.
I hold the folder up.
Talia's gaze slides over it. “What’s that?”
“It’s for you.”
She doesn’t make a move to take it from me.
I hold her hand out flat, place it in her palm, and lay mine on top.
Her head swings side to side, her neck jumping as she swallows. “What did you do?”
“What I should have done a long time ago.” I pull my hand back.
She flips the folder open, peeling through the pages. Her mouth drops. Her eyes widen. She hisses a profanity. “This is…”
“Everything. Hendalia Studios is yours.” I flick through the pages for her, stopping only when her lips tremble. I point to my signature at the bottom. “The mortgage is all paid off. The deed is in your name. And the business is being transferred over to you as we speak.”
“Hendrix,” she breathes, a tear rolling over her lashes. “I can’t accept this.”
“This was always your dream. Not mine.” I cup her cheek and brush the bead away. She shakes her head. I tilt mine. “You gave me a place to call home when I had nowhere else to go. This is the least I can do.”
She blinks, her mouth opening and closing, and then in truly Talia fashion, she shouts, “Fuck me. Hendrix.”
“Sorry, love. You’re not my type.” I wink, stepping back and shoving my hands in my pockets.
She hisses through her teeth, and sags dramatically. “And a damn shame too. We’d have been so good together.”
I slant my gaze, my mouth twitching. “Do I need to call Charlie?”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” She grins, shaking her head as her eyes dart between me and the folder. “You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack. It’s all yours. It should have always been yours.”
A beat passes.
Another.
“Did I break yo—” I squeak, air whooshing from my lungs as Talia launches herself at me.
She throws her arms around my neck, her legs curl around my waist, and we drop to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Her laughter tinkles through the room, piercing my eardrums. “You sure you don’t want to run away with me and get married and forget everyone else exists?”
“Sad as I am about it, I’m sure.” I chuckle as she slides off me and onto her back. I trace over the walls, the ceilings, the floor. “I’m gonna miss this place.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” she says, she threads our hands together, as she stares up at the ceiling.
“What colours are you gonna paint the walls when I’m gone?”
“I’m feeling something bright, flirty, and fun.” She clicks her tongue, her eyes glinting as I roll my head to her. “What do you think about fuchsia?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh I’m sorry. Your vote no longer counts.”
I grin, squeezing her fingers. “What a shame.”
We stay like this for a long time, the soft music filling the space.
I breathe in, the familiarity, the feeling of peace that this building brought me. Tears spring to my eyelids, and I let them fall.
Talia holds my hand through it all, the pain, the hope, the joy of what’s to come next.
I have a whole life ahead of me and I plan to live it this time.
“Hey, Hendrix,” Talia says when the sun sets outside, the room shading.
“Yeah?”
“I’m really fucking proud of you, you know.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” She squeezes my fingers. “You’re finally choosing yourself.”
My arse vibrates as I slam my boot shut.
I tug my phone from my pocket and tuck it between my shoulder and ear. “Hey, bestie.”
“Are you dying?” Saint drawls down the line. “You sound way too joyous for this early hour.”
I grab my backpack from the hallway, toss it over one shoulder, and snatch the last box from the bottom of the stairs. “Not today. Sorry to disappoint.”
“A shame.”
“Piss all the way off. You'd miss me if I was gone.”
"Unfortunately that is very true.”
I roll my eyes. “Why are you awake anyway? It’s barely six.”
“I know.” He groans. “Please tell me you’re coming home soon. Your boyfriend is a fucking tyrant in the studio without you and has had us locked up in here all night.”
Home.
Boyfriend.
My stomach flutters with a crescendo of butterflies.
I peer at the For Sale sign pitched in my driveway. “I’m just getting in my car now.”
“That's my girl.” I hear his grin.
I lock the front door, step back, and exhale a slow breath.
Leaving this place behind is easier than I imagined it would be. Sure, there are things I’ll miss. Dinner nights with Talia and Riley, hiding out in my home studio while my favourite songs shuffled through the speaker until the early hours.
My walls.
Fuck I’m gonna miss those walls.
They kept me going even on the hardest days. But I don’t need them anymore. Not when I have the real thing waiting for me a hundred miles away.
“Rix!” I jolt out of my stupor at the boom of Saint’s voice. “You there?”
I huff a laugh and start for the car. “Yeah, sorry. Here.”
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Absolutely, I did.” I load up the back seat, before sliding behind the steering wheel and starting the engine. “You said something about blah blah blah and blah blah blee.”
My phone connects to the speaker, and his voice booms through the car. “Ha. Funny girl.”
“I know.” I shift into reverse.
“I said I’ve sorted the thing, about the thing…” He trails when as a door slams on his end.
“Fucks sake. Saint!” My heart races at the sound of Cole’s voice. Pretty sure I’ll never get used to hearing it. Sixteen years hasn't been long enough. Doubt another sixteen will do the trick. “Get your sorry arse back in the booth.”
Saint grunts. “See what I mean? Fucking. Tyrant.”
“I do.” I laugh as I swing my car off the drive. “Well, don’t disappoint my man. Get your arse back in that studio.”
“You’re as bad as each other.”
“Aren’t you lucky for that?” I steer into traffic, watching the house disappear in my rearview. “Right, I’m off. Be home in a couple hours.”
A door opens and a rush of noise floods the line. “See you then, Rix.”
“See you.”
I go to push the end call button, but pause.
“Saint?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” I grin, feeling lighter than I have in years as I turn onto the main road.
A soft breath, then a light chuckle. “I love you too, bestie.”