Chapter 33
thirty-three
“Are you nervous?” I whisper to Ever.
He nods. “Yeah. I took my anxiety med after we showered, though, so it’s muzzled.”
I’ve seen his medication bottles. I know he takes something to sleep most nights, and I suspected one is for anxiety but hadn’t found the right time to ask. “How long have you taken it?”
“About a week into my first tour, it was evident I needed help if I was going to function.” He pries his eyes from the view and looks at me.
“Truth be told, I probably needed it long before then, but better late than never.” His eyes go back to the window and so do mine.
“Which kids do you think are his? Doesn’t he have three or four? ”
We’re peeking through the closed blinds, watching everyone gathered on Audrey’s massive deck next door. It’s a quarter of six, and we’re waiting on everyone else to shower and get ready.
“I thought I read a few years ago he had three, but maybe the baby is his too? The redhead is too old to be Gus’s, isn’t she? It’s hard to tell, but she looks Benji’s age.”
“Yeah, she does.” He pauses and then says, “Oh shit, that’s Franco.” Seeing Rook’s drummer, he’s starstruck. And it’s adorable.
“Where? Also, why are we whispering?”
He laughs but continues quietly, “He just walked out of the house, and he’s standing by the grill now.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s him. The tattoos are dead giveaways. Do you think that’s his wife? He’s married, right?” There’s a strawberry blonde in a leopard print dress standing next to him, holding a margarita glass.
“I don’t know. Probably?”
“Who are we spying on?” Jesse calls out from behind us, and we flinch guiltily and step back from the blinds.
“There are a lot of people on the deck next door. We’re trying to figure out who’s who.”
Fifteen minutes later, we find out when we ascend the stairs from the beach to the deck.
“Welcome!” Gus calls out. Long blond hair, deep tan, sunglasses, T-shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops—if you look up “surfer” in the dictionary, there should be a photo of Gus Hawthorne, and no further explanation would be necessary.
Like she can read my mind, Lola leans in and whispers, “He looks even better in person. That shouldn’t be scientifically possible.”
When we all say hello, I know I’m not the only one who’s starstruck. We’re all a giant bundle of nerves and excitement.
Unfazed, Gus turns to the brunette behind him. “Do your thing, sweetheart.”
Sticking two fingers in her mouth, she belts out a whistle that the neighbors down the street likely heard. The kids all freeze in place and go silent.
“Impressive.” Lola’s awe makes everyone laugh.
Gus looks at Lola and nods. “Right? I’m convinced it’s sorcery.
” Then he turns to the sorceress and says, “Gracias,” before raising his voice.
“Everyone, bear with me for a second so I can make introductions, and then we can eat.” He points at our group first. “This is Ever, Jesse, Sophie, Lola, Benji, and my girl, Mabel.”
“Don’t you know it, sugar,” Mabel says with a flirty grin. I’ve thought about it many times before, but I really want to be Mabel when I grow up.
We all wave to the crowd of strangers, and Ever squeezes my hand to ease my nerves.
I squeeze back to ease his.
Gus turns and points to the woman who whistled. “This is Scout, my queen, better half, and boss.”
Scout winks at Gus and then turns to us and says warmly, “Welcome, everyone. We’re really glad you’re here.”
Gus continues introductions. “You met Grace,” he says, lovingly running his hand through the hair of the little boy standing next to him.
Grace is beaming up at Ever. “Hey, Raven.”
Ever raises his hand in a wave and smiles. “Hey, Grace.” When he says it, the little boy’s cheeks glow red hot, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen in a long time.
Turning to look behind him, Gus says, “That’s Kate, my daughter, and Rebel, my goddaughter.”
Dark-haired girls who look to be close in age and a little older than Gracen, maybe eight, wave. One looks exactly like Scout; there’s no doubt who she belongs to.
Gus points across the deck. “Over there, that’s Keller, my stepbrother, with my girls Clover and Ruby.”
The man sitting on a bench is holding a sleeping baby in his arms. He smiles, gives us a lazy two-finger salute, and offers a quiet, “Hey, everyone.” The toddler next to him burrows into his side shyly like she’s trying to hide, and he wraps an arm affectionately around her.
Am I on a movie set? Why are all these people exceptionally good-looking?
Gus moves on to the teenager standing next to the Keller. “My niece Stella.”
The redhead we saw through the window earlier grins wide and says, “Hi, everyone.” She seems sweet and outgoing and reminds me of Benji’s friends at home.
“You met Ma, and that’s Doc Banks, my stepdad.” Gus gestures to a dignified-looking gray-haired man and Audrey standing by the grill.
They wave. “Please, call me Eric,” the man says with a friendly smile.
Moving on to the final couple, Gus says in an exaggerated accent, “This is Gemma. She’s Scout’s bestie, Rebel’s mum, and Franco’s wife.”
The strawberry blonde we spotted earlier shakes her head and laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh that sounds like she’s up to no good. “Was that supposed to be British, Gus? That was shite.” Her accent’s authentic, and it’s amazing.
I love her already.
To wrap things up, Gus nods his head in the direction of the tattooed man standing next to Gemma. “And last—”
“—but not least,” interrupts the man we already know is Franco.
Gus shrugs. “I was going to say, and least.”
Franco flips him off while he takes a swig from the Modelo bottle in his hand.
Gus blows him a kiss, “Love you too, shithead,” and then turns to us. “That’s Franco.”
Every article or interview I’ve read or watched about Rook always gives the impression that Gus and Franco are as tight as brothers. Like they’ve been through hell together and would do anything for each other. I can tell already it’s true.
Gus claps once. “Beer, soda, and water are in the cooler by the door. Margaritas are in the pitchers on the table by Keller. And the grub is on the kitchen counter inside.” He looks at Audrey. “Did I miss anything, Ma?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. Please, make yourselves at home.”
“All right, let’s dig in.”
It’s a lot. A lot of people. A lot of food. A lot of conversation. And a whole lot of margaritas.
Social situations like this are usually a nightmare for me, but not tonight. It’s, unexpectedly, a lot of fun.
These people are all family by blood or by choice, and it shows.
Lola and I grew up in an isolated home. We didn’t visit extended family, and they didn’t visit us.
My parents didn’t have a healthy relationship with each other, and they didn’t socialize with friends.
Whether conscious or not, I’ve done the same.
I threw myself into my job and hung out with Lola, Benji, and Mabel because I genuinely prefer them to all other humans.
The men I picked were emotionally unavailable, but so was I. Until Ever cracked me open.
The past few weeks, I’ve realized I need change like I need air. I’ve missed out on so much by staying in my comfort zone. Sitting here, watching everyone so casually, but so completely, enjoying each other’s company feels surreal. It’s beautiful.
After dinner and dessert, we watch the sun descend into the ocean. As the final traces of orange glitter on the water and fade to black, cheers and applause erupt around us. Even Clover, the toddler, is clapping wildly from her perch on Gus’s shoulders.
At first, I flinch when the quiet is disrupted.
But within seconds, I find that I’m trying to swallow down a lump in my throat.
Jesse’s and Lola’s words from earlier today come back to me.
This all feels sacred: the water, the sunset, the people.
It’s so rare in life to realize, in real time, I’m experiencing a pivotal moment.
Usually, I don’t understand what’s happened until long afterward. Tonight, is one of them. I can feel it.
“The perfect way to end the perfect day,” Mabel declares. “Would someone mind walking me home? I have a big day tomorrow, and I need to get some shut-eye.” Mabel always goes to bed and rises with the sun.
Ever, who’s sitting next to her, reaches out his hand. “I’ll take you.”
“He’s sweet.” Scout and I are watching them walk hand in hand across the sand.
“He is,” I agree.
“I didn’t know what to expect. You see someone on stage and think you know what they’ll be like offstage.
I should know better by now, that’s rarely true.
” She stands with a fussing baby in her arms. “I need to go feed the little one and get her down, and then I’ll be back out, and girl’s night can begin. ”
While Ever’s away, everyone pitches in to clean up, Eric leaves for his shift at the hospital ER, and Audrey puts on a movie in the living room for the kids. They’re all snuggled under blankets, eyes drooping but fighting sleep.
When Ever returns, the guys, Benji included, and Stella all end up downstairs in the state-of-the-art studio. Scout returns and joins Lola, Gemma, Audrey, and me out on the deck. All but Scout, who’s drinking water, are on our third or fourth margarita of the night. We’re all tipsy.
Gemma licks salt from the rim of her glass and asks, “Scout, do you remember the first time we met?”
Scout’s gathering her long hair up and securing it with an elastic from around her wrist, when she says, “Of course. You’d come to visit Franco and Gus insisted on showing up at his house unannounced. We interrupted a literal baby-making session.”
Gemma tilts her head in question. “Did you?”
Scout turns sideways in her chair, resting her feet on the armrest. She barks out a laugh. “Yes. We could totally hear you from the front porch. Gus knocked and yelled for you to go ahead and finish.”
“He did not?” Lola questions through a throaty giggle.