8. Effie
EIGHT
EFFIE
By the end of the week, Brett had, as promised, half of Nightowl Recordings mixed, mastered, and ready to send to Shay. Effie scrolled up and down the full track list.
Golden Lining
Beginner's Luck
Apparatus
Experience Required
Loved By Your Mistakes
Twisted Heart
Petty Nightmares
Hello Choices
Midnight Circus
Next Chapter Of Us
She Doesn't Care
Goodbye Tales
Best Of Never
City For Me
From Insult To Injury
Five-Leaf Clover
Bankruptcy
Cold Shoulder
Class Act
bluebird
Twenty songs with “bluebird” as the final track. A portmanteau of their last names, and the inevitable couple name when they eventually went public with their relationship.
It was the last track Effie and Brett ceremoniously recorded, but snippets of “bluebird” lyrics came from old journals. Seared into her brain, she first scribbled the lines down years ago, when they were together in secret. She had been waiting all this time for a place to put the words, and Brett’s melody suited them perfectly.
Shay would be delighted. Her time at Nightowl had been as inspiring and heart-soaring as it had been productive. And she was fucking proud of herself. Something she hadn’t quite been able to access in recent years, when the albums and the tours became monotonous. Faking it became more and more difficult. But nobody knew because Effie was damn good at her job.
After that conversation with the bartender at Two Bird last week, the flame that had sparked in her chest grew to a roaring bonfire. Stacy's words came at the perfect moment, despite hearing similar things from fans in the past. When Effie was beginning to doubt what she wanted, what she was doing, and why any of it mattered anymore. Brett didn’t mention the conversation, but she suspected he felt it, too. He pulled the late nights with her this last week, as dedicated to perfecting the songs as Effie was.
Her “why” wasn't the only thing she'd return to while with Brett. When she looked in the mirror, the skin around her eyes looked less tired and parched. Like she was fully awake. And her hips, she noted as she pulled on her biker shorts that morning, were softer than a month ago. Since she was on the off-season from her grueling fitness routine, their evening walks were more to clear their metal space than for exercise.
After Brett’s first homemade pasta dinner, he continued to feed her luxurious home-cooked meals and expected her to eat the entire plate. She could have walked around the swankiest clubs in New York City, with her fourth drink in her hand, and still no one would have thought to offer her food.
That had been a bigger problem in her younger years, when she was susceptible to critiques on her body and she would go to extreme lengths to achieve the look . When she saw pictures from that time—and lord were they everywhere—she barely recognized the girl she was then.
“How does it look?” Brett asked, coming up behind the chair and reaching his arms around to rest on her hips.
“Brilliant,” Effie sighed, feeling so grounded in herself, her body, and her talent.
“You should be proud of yourself, Ef.”
“I am, truly. And you should be, too. I couldn’t have made these songs without you.”
“Nah.” Brett waved off the praise. “They’re yours. Straight from that beautiful brain of yours.”
They were silent for a moment. Not the comfortable kind that they’d become accustomed to over their hours in the studio. A tense kind, and Effie could already sense there was something unsaid floating between them. When she turned to him in her chair, she saw it written all over his face. In his tense jawline, furrowed brow, messed up hair.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Ah…” he deflected. “It’s nothing.”
“Well, it’s clearly not nothing.” Effie would wait for him to say whatever was on his mind.
There’d been more instances like this between them since Effie had the video chat with Shay last week. The look of love , he’d said.
Effie had been in love plenty of times. She’d filled songs and entire albums capturing that rushing riot of emotion that infused her cells each time she fell. But something about this, with Brett, felt rare. It wasn’t that furious cacophony that stormed through her veins their first time around, when their touches happened behind closed doors, charged and volatile.
No. This was peace.
Brett rolled his lips between his teeth. “I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.”
“Miss me? I’m still here, Brett.”
“But what happens after we finish the album? When your label has it and you to go back to…your life.”
Effie stood and took both of his elbows in her hands. “Where is this coming from?”
“My head, honey. I’m fucked in the head, you know that, and all I see is this ending.” He swallowed. “Again.”
“It doesn’t have to. Remember? What you said last week? This is my life, and it’s also your life. We can make whatever we want of it.” She paused, chewing on her thumbnail between her teeth. “But?—”
“Gah!” Brett exclaimed and stomped away from the desk, pulling at his hair. “I knew it, Ef, I knew it. Unrealistic. Too good to be true. A fantasy.”
“Brett!” She stepped in front of him. She hated to see him like this, lost and confused and turned in on himself. “Just listen to me, would you?”
When she gently pried his hands away from his face, his eyes were shining.
“I don’t want this to end,” she said. “I don’t want to lose you again, Brett. You’re it for me, honey: I love you. I think I loved you back then, but I was too scared to say it and too hurt and confused to figure things out after you left. My career was at a high and Shay, well, he knew about us, and I think he could tell I was heartbroken, because he kept me busy and distracted. We didn’t talk about you. He never mentioned you. We just kept working.
“But this last month, with you, I remembered all the good stuff we had. How you pushed me creatively, you always saw me as an artist. As a strong, capable woman. You never questioned me, you just followed my lead. Like we’ve been doing here at Nightowl. Except, now I remember how you inspired so much in me. And you, your beautiful, dark, deep soul, your musical brain, your strong, capable fingers,” she laced her hand with his, “what you’ve built here? It reminds me exactly why I fell in love with you before. I can’t believe we were ever apart, but now I can see you needed time and space for yourself, too. To build this.”
Brett melted into her, his forehead resting against her clavicle. “Princess,” he murmured. “I don’t deserve you.”
She kissed his temple. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, what kind of karma did I have in a past life that gave me you?” He kissed his way up her neck, cradling her head in his hands, and captured her lips with one open-mouthed kiss. “I’m stunned by you every second of every day. I always was stunned by you, I was in love with you. I am in love with you. That’s why I left. I’d lost so many people that I loved because I couldn’t be strong for them. And I’m so sorry I left you, too.”
“It’s okay, Brett.” She pecked kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. “The years we spent apart allowed me to evolve as both a person and an artist. And I’m ready to fully be yours.”
They nuzzled into each other, holding in an embrace. “Is there still a but ?” Brett asked, tucked against her warm skin.
“Yes…”
“Okay.” He took a deep breath and stood upright. “I can take it. I swear I’m a grown ass adult man.” He gave her a sheepish smile.
“But I want to go back to New York.”
He nodded, slowly at first, his gaze on the ceiling as he processed, and then more strongly, surely. “Yes, right, of course you do. It only makes sense.”
“I’ve thought about it, and I want to do it for the album.”
“The promotion.” Brett continued to nod.
“And then Grammy season.” Her eyes sparkled.
“ Grammy season…” He furrowed his brows and cut his gaze away. “Grammy season? You think this album has a shot?”
“Why not? sweetbitter got the nominations, if not all the wins that I wanted?—”
“Because you’re voracious.”
“Always.” She smirked and then continued. “And I at least want to give Nightowl Recordings a full shot at what it deserves. We deserve.”
“So, I’m thinking,” Effie said as she snaked her arms around his waist. “That we split time between New York and here. I can't ask you to give up this life. After this project, you'll be a highly sought-after producer.”
He huffed, feigning offense. “And what am I now? Chopped liver?”
“You’ll see,” Effie hummed, sidling closer to Brett. She ran her hand over his forearm and up his bicep. “I have a good feeling.”
“Your feelings about your career are usually correct.” Brett pulled her close, notching their bodies together, nose touching and lips brushing.
Effie hummed as her entire body tingled from his nearness. “And with my jet, it’s just an easy back and forth for us to be together. I’m not letting you go, honey.”
He growled in response, his chest rumbling against hers. “Princess, I’ll go anywhere with you.”
They spent the rest of the day in the studio, finalizing the tracks before sending them off to Shay. Afterward, they ordered pizza and ate the entire large on the back patio of the cabin. Under the velvety sky, they stripped off their clothes, giggling, and hopped into Brett’s back porch sauna.
“This has been criminally underutilized,” Effie sighed as her muscles melted into the wooden bench. She twisted her hair into a messy top bun, her bangs beginning to stick to her forehead. The warm, cedar wooden scent laced with the sharp mint from the fresh eucalyptus branches. She filled her lungs full with it.
Sitting across from Brett, she appraised the man’s figure. Covered in dark, curling hair, she licked her lips as her eyes grazed over his strong thighs and his forearms resting there.
“Effie…” Brett said, watching her, too. “What are you thinking?”
She brought a hand to her breast, overcome with desire sparking through her body. Her legs fell open wide, seemingly of their own accord. “Mmm…” she murmured. “Just thinking about you, missing you…”
“I’m right here, princess,” he said, spreading his own legs. His cock hung heavy and it jumped as her hand traced down her stomach to tease her outer lips.
“Why don’t you come over here?” Effie purred as sweat beaded underneath her breasts.
He stood and made the two-step trek to stand between her legs. Lacing his fingers into her hair, she leaned into his palm. With her free hand, she traced her fingers up and down his still hanging cock.
“That tickles,” he said roughly, ending in a gruff laugh, before turning her face up to him. “You’re a good little princess, aren’t you? My perfect princess.”
She held his gaze and nodded slowly. “I’m all yours.”
Brett bent down, pushing her back against the wall and claimed her mouth. A hard, demanding kiss that made Effie’s nipples tighten and a low moan escape her throat.
“Yes,” he panted as he broke the kiss. “Yes, you are.”
With his knees, he pushed her legs wider and knelt down. “And I’m going to worship your pretty pussy, princess.”
In the next second, he licked a flat, wide strip up her center that made her hips buck. And in another beat, Effie called out his name as he buried his face between her thighs. She held his head there, grinding her hips down on his talented tongue. The sounds he made, humming and swallowing every last drop of her, sent goosebumps racing over her body.
Worship . What he said he’d do to her, and exactly how Effie felt right now: completely revered.
Slipping two fingers easily into her, Brett sat back to watch.
“You look so perfect on your knees for me, Brett,” she chuckled, the image of him ratcheting her pleasure even higher.
He didn’t respond, he just kept working her, watching her grind on his hand and chase more, more, more. Wringing out everything she could.
“That’s it,” he crooned, as her arousal dripped down over his hand. “You can do it, honey. Take everything you need.”
Brett leaned forward, adding his tongue and thumb to her clit as she shut her eyes. A shout tore from her as her orgasm ripped through her core. Blinding lights pulsed behind her eyelids as her limbs quivered.
Distantly, Brett murmured sweet nothings as he squeezed out her last flickers of pleasure. “Well done, princess.”
After she caught her breath, she stood and Brett did, too.
“I’m not done with you yet,” she gasped. “I need to feel you inside me.”
Effie pushed him back against the opposite bench and he sat down on it. Kicking one knee and then the other onto the bench, she didn’t hesitate before dropping down, his hard length plunging deep inside of her slick channel.
“God,” she called, immediately rolling her hips, her pubic bone grating against his. She wasn’t far off from another orgasm, on the coattails of the powerful one Brett just drew from her.
“Princess,” he grit out, holding onto her hips for dear life. Hopefully she’d have pretty pink marks there tomorrow. “I’m not gonna last long with you riding me like this.”
“That’s the idea, honey.” Sparks raced up her spine. “I’m so close, too,” she panted, deepening her thrusts, lost on the waves of desire as if tossed out to sea.
“Jesus christ, Ef,” he choked, then grasped onto her, holding her down.
Trapped against him, Brett bucked up. Every single sensation in her body magnified. After she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, he tightened his grip and pinned their hips together. When he roared out his climax, she shattered again with a wavering cry.
In the humid sauna, Effie panted as she came down from her two stunning orgasms, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Brett, I love you and if you ever leave me again, I’m going to cry for real.”
“You’ll miss me, honey?” he asked, a quirk of sarcasm in his voice.
“I’ll miss your cock, that’s for sure,” she bit back.
“Then don’t you worry, princess, because I’ll always be by your side. I love you, too.” He kissed her nose softly.
Effie's heart swelled, buzzing in her chest, as she sighed and leaned against Brett, soothed by his fierce embrace.