30. Rae
Rae
Iwake up to a racing heart and a gasp. I don’t know what I was dreaming of, but it has me shooting up in a panic in my dark room.
I glance around which is when I see Grayson on one side of me and remember I’m not alone.
I look to the other side and Asher is there, still asleep and instantly relax knowing they’re here.
I’m safe.
But as my panic subsides, I become aware of how my body is feeling. The soreness between my legs and throat. The memories of what just happened a couple hours ago flood back and I bite back a smile.
Grayson lets out a small groan, his arm snaking around my middle and pulling me into him. “What’re you doing, Sunshine?”
“Just had a bad dream I think,” I whisper.
He hums, keeping a tight grip around me. His eyes are closed, his dark blond hair falling over his forehead, and I itch to push it away. His face is relaxed, mouth tempting me to press mine against it.
I turn to look at Asher who still hasn’t moved.
He’s on his back, right arm raised above his head while his left is resting on his toned stomach.
His face looks less relaxed, like he always has something on his mind that he refuses to talk about.
But it doesn’t take away from his attractive features. Frankly, he’s beautiful.
They both are, in different ways.
They both help me feel grounded while I’m fighting the worry I’m constantly having about whoever may or may not be watching me.
“Go back to sleep,” Grayson murmurs, and I look over at him, but his eyes are still closed. It’s like he can sense my unease. He always could. He could find my eyes in a crowded room, and I knew it would be okay. When I first started performing, he would be there smiling at me.
Yet I’m keeping something from him. I haven’t wanted to tell him about what’s been going on because that would make it real. The only reason Asher knows is because the box was here when he was with me. If that never happened I wouldn’t have told him either.
I sink down, Grayson enveloping me in his hold even more, and I chuckle. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
A sleepy smile appears on his face. “You seem to like that, though.”
I’m thankful for the dark to hide the blush on my cheeks. Yeah I do.
“Go to sleep,” he says again, his voice lower, and I’m sure he’s drifting back to sleep but I’m not tired. I really should be, my body was pushed to the absolute limit, but I feel wired. My hands are itching to play the melody ringing in my head that’s just appeared looking at the two of them.
Grayson’s breathing evens out, and I glance at Asher who still hasn’t moved and decide to slip out of the bed to get some of the creative buzz out of my system so I can sleep.
Carefully, I manage to get out of Grayson’s hold and move down to the foot of the bed, hoping neither of them notice. When my feet land on the cool floor I silently celebrate, turning back to the bed to make sure they’re undisturbed.
I smile as I see them both lying there, so peaceful, so handsome.
So mine. They’re both shirtless, in just their boxers —I don’t know what I did to get this lucky.
Reaching down, I pick up the first shirt I find, and when I slip it on I think it’s Asher’s.
It falls to my mid-thigh and I don’t bother putting on anything else.
I’m practically dancing as I make my way downstairs after shutting the bedroom door to try and muffle the sound of music I’m going to be playing.
The guitar is a little quieter, but when I feel like this I really prefer the piano.
There’s something about feeling the keys under my fingers.
The way the music sounds and flows through my limbs. It’s what I need.
My feet slap quietly against the hardwood floor and I don’t like the silence, I never have. I need noise, music, talking, something. I turn the corner heading toward my piano and my eye catches on something outside one of the windows.
I freeze, narrowing my eyes, but I swear there’s a figure in the distance.
Just standing there. I feel eyes on me and I rush over to the window to get a better look.
It’s so dark, it’s hard to tell, but the figure is completely still.
I quickly close the blinds to block their view of me while peeking through the tiny crack to watch for any movement.
Nothing happens and I back away. I must be losing it, or hallucinating. Maybe it’s just a tree. I’m just being paranoid; no one can get on my property without my security knowing about it. I shake out my hands, trying to shake away the anxiety as I sit at the piano.
Running my fingers over the keys a couple times, acquainting myself with the feel of them as I try to control my breathing and bring back the music that’s been playing in my head.
Closing my eyes, I start to feel it. The buzzing under my skin drawing me to the keys again.
I start to play. This melody isn’t as light as the one I felt looking at the two sleeping men in my bed.
The fear from what I saw is infiltrating my mind causing the notes to be deeper, more haunting.
Some chords remain upbeat; it’s the juxtaposition of how I’m constantly feeling lately.
Happy, free, light, learning who I really am.
While also being scared, anxious, and worried.
It’s all me.
I don’t have any lyrics coming to me right now. Just the music. And maybe it won’t turn into a song anyway. It just feels good to let the notes flow, not thinking, only feeling.
I don’t know how long I’m lost in it when I feel warmth behind me. This time when I notice the eyes on me, it’s not threatening. It’s calming, but he doesn’t touch me. I continue to play, his presence behind me, changing the song, altering it to how I feel when he’s near.
Desired. Controlled. Calm.
He leans forward, his woodsy smell mixed with sex fills my nose and I breathe him in.
“I like this.” Asher’s deep voice adds to the feelings the sounds fill me with. “You playing the music while wearing my shirt.”
“Do you want to know if I’m wearing anything underneath?” I taunt.
“Don’t need to. I already know.”
I clench my thighs together, feeling the need building there despite being sore.
Asher sits on the bench next to me, his back to the piano so he can look at me. “What was that one?”
“Nothing particular. Sometimes I just play notes. Sometimes they sound good, sometimes they don’t.”
He studies me, the corner of his mouth quirked up. His hair has gotten longer than when I first saw him in Vegas. My eyes trail over his body, the honed muscles don’t seem to have any decrease in mass from his injury. I know he’s still been working out, but he truly looks like a work of art.
I can’t help but speak again and ask something about him. We don’t talk about much; he’s so closed off I realize I know so little about him, but I want to know more. I should know more.
“Why did you leave Denver?” I question gently, already preparing for him to shut down.
I don’t know if it’s the darkness, the quiet, or because he’s vulnerable from being woken up. Or because we’re seemingly alone, even though Grayson is sleeping upstairs. Right now it’s just us. He tenses, but doesn’t run away.
“I couldn’t be here anymore,” he answers quietly.
“Why though?”
He clenches his jaw and looks away from me. I want to guide his eyes back to mine, but I resist, waiting to see what he’s going to say instead. His eyes stay averted and the seconds feel like they’re dragging before he finally answers.
“Because I didn’t want to be constantly reminded of the past.”
I don’t know much about Asher’s life before he came to live with Audrey and Charlie.
He hardly spoke to me back then. He just always seemed pissed off and annoyed.
Kind of like now, but there’s been more to him lately.
A softer side that he may not even notice he’s showing me.
There’s more to him than he wants everyone to believe.
I rest my hand on his thigh; the warmth of his skin against mine has me sighing.
“You can tell me,” I encourage.
He finally looks up at me again, hazel eyes hardened and his jaw is tense. I think this may be the end of our conversation, but then he opens his mouth.
“I didn’t grow up like you,” he tells me. “I didn’t grow up with parents like yours, or a family like you have. I didn’t get everything I ever wanted.”
I roll my lips between my teeth. I know I’m extremely lucky with the life I’ve been given. I know not everyone can say that, but the way he’s saying this makes him sound angry about it, and I don’t think I have a place to say anything.
“My life before Audrey and Charlie was pretty shit. But it didn’t matter what they did for me, it was too late, the damage had been done.”
I shake my head, squeezing his leg a little harder. “Don’t say that. Your past doesn’t have to define you. Everyone grows, changes and can get better.”
He looks pained as he averts his gaze again. “Not me. This is who I am, Rae, and if you want to believe differently I’m going to disappoint you.”
I climb into his lap, straddling his hips and cupping his face, forcing him to look at me. “No, you’re not.”
His hands land on my hips, pulling me tightly against his body. “I am. Get me out of your system, discover who you are, and when this is all over look back with no regrets. But don’t expect me to turn into prince charming. I never will be.”
“Good thing I have Grayson for that role,” I snark because I don’t like that he’s reducing what’s going on to getting it out of my system. And I really don’t like that he said when this is all over.
“Good thing,” he agrees.
“I just want to make one thing clear,” I start.
“You’re not going to do something stupid and walk away because you think that’s what’s best for me.
Got it? I know what’s best for me, and I get to decide when you’re out of my system.
” I throw his words back at him, watching for a reaction, anything that would indicate he regrets saying that.
But he doesn’t.