36. Encore
Long Beach was a far cry from the small towns Chase remembered growing up. There would be no winter, and the traffic was second on his list of complaints only to the parking.
But he did enjoy the coastal breeze sweeping into his and Zak’s new apartment. He enjoyed the view from their balcony in the morning, the back stairwell that would spit them right out on the sand to watch the sunsets—and to chase their overzealous dog down the beach.
It was twelve hundred square feet of comfortable space, filled with mismatched furniture they’d picked out together from charity stores across Europe. All warm lighting and wood floors. Nothing sleek or stylish or new.
It was everything Chase could have ever dreamed of.
Early evening settled in. The temperature had begun to drop and the sky had turned pastel. It was the calmest life had been in months, with the tour now wrapped up, the moving boxes mostly unpacked, and the band’s new studio lease finalized.
Chase knew the pace would kick up soon, and he was more than ready for it. After catching up on sleep, his first thought had been about how much he missed work.
But one last lazy night in bed wouldn’t hurt.
The doorknob down the hall rattled, and then it flew open, filling the hallway with the sound of running water from the shower.
Steam loomed around Zak as she burst through the bedroom door and scrambled around the many papers on their shared desk. As if she’d ever used that particular piece of furniture.
She seemed far more content to pen down words against the side of the fridge. From bed, late at night, when ideas struck as she tried to fall asleep. Or anywhere, really, other than the one space that had been designated for writing.
Chase tossed around the blankets at the foot of the bed, where he was fairly sure he’d last seen her notebook. Sure enough, it flopped to the mattress. He held it out to her. “Looking for this?”
“Yes.” She nabbed the notebook and spent the next five minutes furiously scribbling before closing the cover and offering up a, “Thank you.”
He’d tried scattering notebooks throughout the house so that she would always have one available—but had quickly learned that they would all end up redeposited to the same location, as she combined bits and pieces from each journal.
“I just had the best idea for a guitar outro.” She seemed inconvenienced by having to get back in the shower as she ran her fingers through her soaking hair, still bubbling with shampoo suds.
Chase grabbed his crutches and followed the wet slap of her footsteps down the hall, using a discarded T-shirt that was already on the ground to mop up the water splatters left by her stroke of genius. “There’s no stipulation that we have to get the new album done in a month too. You know that, right?”
He followed her into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching her toss the towel over the rod and stand beneath the showerhead again. He felt a smile take over his face, unsure if it was because she was crazy, beautiful, or an addictive combination of the two. “We got back a week ago. We have time to get to the recording studio.”
“Sure, we don’t have to get it done in a month.” Her eyes drifted closed as she tilted her head back to wash out the suds. “But what else am I going to do with all my time?”
“Get some sleep,” he suggested, sliding the glass door open.
He pulled off his sweatpants and joined her. Her eyes shocked open as his hand curled around the narrowest point of her waist. Water droplets caught in her eyelashes. They streamed down her cheeks and the curves of her body.
“Among other things.”
Her breathing quickened at the slight touch. “We’ll get dropped again if I let myself spend as much time on you as I want to.”
“Don’t know about that.” He kissed her beneath the hot, slick spray of water. “You seem to like it fast. Hard. Demanding.”
“The faster it’s over, the faster I can have it again,” she said deviously against his lips. Her eyes suddenly blew wide, and Chase knew that look well. Another idea. “Sorry…” she said, hopping out of the shower once more.
Chase laughed and soaped himself off as she went back for the notebook, and minutes later, returned.
“I tried to warn you. I’m a terrible roommate,” she said, re-entering the shower. “I’m a mess. I don’t know if any amount of money or fame can change that.”
He pulled her against his chest. “I wouldn’t want it to.”
“I love you.” She said it like she was still getting used to the way the words sounded. Like when she found the perfect notes in the perfect order and played her solos in every configuration until they felt right to her hands.
And god did she feel right in his hands. “I love you.” He breathed in the humid air, the smell of vanilla soap on her skin and ocean salt blowing in through the open French doors at the end of the hall. “And I’m not asking—I know you don’t want me to ask—but I’m telling you I’ll always love you. And if you ever did want to, you say the word Zak Parker, and I’ll marry you.”
Her expression melted, and he could see her fighting the smile off her face, so he kissed her until he felt it curve against his lips.
“Why do you always have to one-up me?” she asked.
“Thought you knew I was competitive?”
He guided her until her back hit the tile. Her fingertips tickled the center of his chest as she toyed with the weighted ring, hanging from a gold chain over his heart. For the longest time, he had refused to even look at the reminder of his past, but now he’d forgotten he had it on altogether.
“I’m glad you’re wearing this.” She brushed her thumb over the raised bear paw emblem. The engravings on the sides. “You should be proud of who you are, because you’re incredible. And don’t you dare try to one-up me on that, too.”
“You might wanna shut me up, then.”
She kissed him.
Identity be damned, she could own him with those lips, with her tongue, with the way she made his heart beat hard enough to shatter the gemstones on that championship ring.
Her hands were on his body, her moans and sighs filling the air, and there were a lot of amazing things about living with the woman he loved, but the only one sticking out in his mind right now was how good it was to hear the way he made her feel. Completely uninhibited.
“You’re my always too, Chase,” she said, looking up at him. “And you’re my only.”
He kissed her forehead. He could tell her a thousand times that he belonged to her, and it would never be enough to encompass the depth of loving her. Of being loved by her. She existed alongside music and courage and the person he had become. The person he wanted to continue to be.
“Yo!” Someone pounded on the door.
Chase took a deep breath and rested his forehead on the bathroom wall behind her. “Did you invite them?”
“Of course I didn’t. I would never invite them,” Zak said. “But if you think that matters to them, you’re fooling yourself.”
She stepped out of the shower and patted dry before pulling on a robe to answer the door, and Chase got out to follow her. Granted, that process took a little longer, between cooling off and grabbing his crutches.
“Hope we’re not interrupting anything,” he heard Alex say.
“As if you care,” Dallas scoffed.
“What are you guys doing here?” That was Zak.
The other thing about their apartment was that everyone else liked the place so much, they’d decided to move into the same complex. From roommates, to neighbors.
“Jam session,” Edge said. “You’re the one who picked the time, remember? I thought you wanted to carpool to the studio.”
Chase could imagine her face, though he couldn’t see it. Somewhere halfway between, Shit, I forgot about practice, and Shit, I lied, I did invite them. He smiled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, toweling off his hair as they bickered back and forth.
“How are you always late to your own practice times?”
“I kept getting ideas and I wanted to try some stuff out,” she tried to explain, gesturing to their bedroom, where her songbook was, but by then, Chase’s body blocked the way and it looked like she was pointing at him instead.
Dallas shrugged as if it made perfect sense. “I always figured you were kinky.”
“Gross, Zak. Why would we want to hear about any of that?” Edge said.
Zak turned around, cheeks flushing an even brighter red. “No, I meant song ideas.”
“Sure you did.” Alex winked. “I know I get all my best ideas when I’m fucking a guy in the shower.”
Zak sealed her lips.
“Sorry about that,” Chase added. “We’ll be ready to go next time.”
“No you won’t,” the other three said in unison.
Chase followed Zak’s watery footprints back to the room to get ready. Inside, she was already rummaging through the dresser for something to wear. He fell back against the door until it clicked closed, laughing at the flustered furrow of her brows.
“I forgot all about practice.” She tossed a shirt on the bed. “Fuck, I don’t even know what day of the week it is anymore.”
“I’ll take an apology in the form of an IOU.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.
“I’m not apologizing. You still need more practice than anybody, new guy.”
“Isn’t there an expiration on that nickname? Maybe after playing over fifty shows and signing two record deals? Otherwise, I’ll just be the new guy forever.”
“Forever.” Her eyes lit up mischievously. “Sounds like a pretty good expiration date to me.”