Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Ty
? Closer – Nine Inch Nails ?
If I thought hearing about Eric’s wild night in Miami had affected me in the moment, I was completely unprepared for how it affected my subconscious.
I had a very detailed dream last night about being in a hotel room with Eric and Josh, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t suddenly curious as fuck about what it’d be like to have them both.
I already knew what Eric was capable of, and Josh just oozed sex appeal, so there was no way he wouldn’t also be incredible.
It started as a passing thought. One of those fleeting, reckless ideas that slink through your mind when you’re exhausted—or, in my case, delusional—but once it rooted itself, it refused to leave.
It felt so real. I could still hear their filthy words in my ear, feel the touch of their hands on my skin—both familiar and thrillingly unfamiliar.
I can blame Eric’s story for planting the seed, but I also blame the way Josh looks at me sometimes.
All teasing smirks and knowing eyes, like he sees right through the careful lines I draw around myself.
And Eric? God, Eric is already in my veins and under my skin, woven into me in ways I can’t undo.
He’s possessive in a quiet way, always watching, always lingering a second too long.
I shouldn’t want more. Shouldn’t want something impossible.
Hell, I’m the reason none of this can happen.
But what if?
Eric and Josh, two halves of the same reckless, beautiful thing.
Eric would be controlled and deliberate—he always is, even in his chaos.
He’d anchor me with his steady hands and whispered reassurances.
Josh? I bet he’d push. He’d provoke. He’d absolutely ruin me.
I can almost hear the way their voices would clash, teasing me, edging me, seeing how far I’d let them go.
There’s something so thrilling about the idea—the weight of them both. The warmth, the intensity. Being wanted that much, being taken apart in different ways.
I know it’s just a fantasy. Know it’s going to stay locked in the depths of my mind, a secret even Eric won’t ever get to know. But still…
“Alright, what’s on the docket today?” Eric asks, sliding into the booth across from me and handing me a mug full of fresh coffee, jolting me out of the mental bed we were currently tangled up in.
I clear my throat.
“You mentioned last time we sat down that it was easy not to lose control on the road,” I say, shifting a bit. “So, I’m curious as to what caused your battle with alcohol?”
He groans and throws his head back, resting it against the wall behind him.
“It’s too early for this shit, Sunshine.” It comes out in a teasing tone, but I can still hear the truth of his words. He looks down at his hands and spins one of his rings around his finger. I wait him out, giving him the time and space to answer when he’s ready to.
“It’s easy on the road,” he says, sighing and looking back up at me.
“Because there are a million other ways to distract yourself. Like I said when you first got here, you’re traveling the world with your best friends, and even if you’re not together all the time, you’re pulled in all kinds of different directions to do things—shows, meeting fans, sitting down for interviews, writing new music, venturing out and exploring whatever city you’re in—you’re constantly in this headspace of go, go, go.
But what no one tells you about being on the road so much, is that when you get home, the silence is loud.
” He pauses and resumes twisting his ring.
“And in that silence is where I lost control.”