Chapter 37
Reid
Her mother. One look at her face and I know she’s who she’s talking about. “If that’s what you want, then I support you.”
She draws in a shaky breath. “You’re not going to ask me if I’m sure? Try to talk me out of it? What if it ends up like you and your dad?”
“No. I hope it ends up better for you, but no matter the outcome, what matters is that it’s you and me. It’s always gonna be you and me.”
Tears glisten at the corners of her eyes, making the light blue of them shine like crystals. “You and me,” she repeats.
I reach for the throw blanket over her head to cover her, but she sits up before I can. “I’m gonna get dressed actually. I need more than just a blanket when I make this call.”
My brows shoot up. “Oh, you want to call her, like now?”
Aspen pauses. “Yeah, do you think I should wait?”
“No. No, if you want to do it now, then let’s do it.” I was ready to soak in the blissful state her sweet pussy put me into, but if she’s ready to make this step now, then we’ll do it.
God, I’m gonna need another vacation after all this mending bullshit. It’s too much in such a short span. Maybe I’ll go to the gym tonight once Aspen’s asleep.
We collect our clothes and sit back down on the couch. She huddles close to me, fiddling with her phone. “What if she’s angry that I hung up on her?”
“Well, she can get over it.” She’s the one who abandoned you.
“What if she’s at work?”
“Then she can step away for a minute.”
“What if—”
“Aspen.” My use of her full name, not her nickname, snaps her out of it. “Take a breath.”
She inhales shakily, nostrils flaring. But when she glances up at me, she smiles gratefully.
“We can run down what if’s until we both melt into this couch. But you’re never going to know until you call her. If that’s still what you want.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment, her gaze trailing out the window.
After a moment, she turns her phone on and pulls up the call log.
There’s tons of missed calls from the same number.
Christ, I doubt this woman even has a job for her to interrupt with how often she’s tried calling Penny.
It makes me wonder how much this has been bothering her and how much she’s hidden it from me for the sake of not adding her worry to my plate with the retreat.
The idea of that pisses me off but makes me love her even more.
She hits the number and flips it to speaker.
Her hand tremors so I engulf it with mine and tuck it onto my lap as the line continues to ring. Macaroni trots over and hops up onto the coffee table. He sits, wrapping his tail around his paws.
I didn’t see him when I got here. Must’ve been too focused on Aspen. I try to pet him, but he swipes at me.
“Little fucker,” I mutter, and Aspen jostles my shoulder with her own.
The line continues to ring. The longer it does, the higher Aspen’s shoulders get to her ears. Her knee bounces against mine, and I keep myself steady for her.
“Your call has been automated to a voice messaging system…”
Aspen turns to me with wide eyes. “What do I—”
“Please leave your message. Beep.”
Panic lines her face as she stutters out, “Uh, h-hi. This is, this is Aspen. I think you’ve been trying to get a hold of me. I thought I’d…I—” She snatches her hand back and ends the call. “What the fuck!”
I cover my mouth. “That was very smooth, baby.”
She slaps my arm. “I didn’t expect her not to answer! Not after she called me for weeks straight.”
“You mean in all your what if’s, you didn’t consider the fact that she might not answer?”
“Oh my god.” She grabs a throw pillow and smacks me with it. It does nothing to quell my laughter. My stomach pitches with it and eventually, she joins in. “I can’t believe I did that. Do you think you can erase messages?”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
That earns another bat of the pillow that I could easily dodge but let her continue. She’s laughing after doing something scary as shit, and that’s all I want for her right now. Any distraction is good.
It’s odd that her mother didn’t answer, but who knows what kind of life she’s living. I just hope that if she tries calling Penny back again, she’s still ready for that conversation.
“How about we turn our phones off, go shower, order food, and have a movie night tonight?” I propose.
“I don’t feel like cooking, or doing a whole lot.
” The last few days have been a lot of social time already.
The desire to turn my brain off while watching a movie with Penny tucked into my side is enough to make me weep.
Her face lights up at the offer. “Deal! As long as I get to pick the movie.”
“Now I don’t know about that.” But before I can argue further, she’s off the couch and bounding upstairs. Guess negotiations will have to wait.
I get up to follow her, but at the base of the stairs I remember I wanted to turn our phones off. Don’t want to risk her mother calling back and interrupting my night with her.
When I approach the back of the couch, something catches my eye, and stops me dead in my tracks.
I look up to find Macaroni still sitting on the coffee table, glaring at me. “You little fucker scratched the back of the couch!”
Two days later, I find myself in Hayden’s newly renovated home studio. He and Carter have completely transformed their new house, with plenty of help from her dad. It’s a cool place, with a hell of a lot more character than his other house.
This feels like a home.
“Before we start anything,” Hayden says as we all unpack our instruments and get set up. “I think we should set the expectation that we’re not here to create an album, or even a cohesive song today. This is just to try it out, getting back into what we love, right?”
“Right,” Nikolai echoes. Walker and I both nod. He didn’t exactly greet me with enthusiasm today, but before we left Joshua Tree, he did apologize for insinuating that I used his sister.
I’d say we’re back on a decent enough path.
We didn’t attempt playing music together while we were away.
After the blow up on the deck, it didn’t feel right.
Emotions were too high and getting music involved, even though it’s what brought us all together in the first place, wouldn’t have ended well.
But the itch is there. It runs through all of us. So Hayden called this morning, seeing if everyone could make it over. Nikolai picked me up, and we met Walker here.
“Do we wanna try playing one of our songs first? Just to dust off?” Nikolai scans the room.
I shrug. Walker and I are both used to being the driving forces of the group, but it seems we’re both trying to take a backseat today.
“Yeah. Anyone have any preference?” Hayden asks. He slips his white pearl bass over his shoulder. It hits me that it’s the one he wore for our final performance. The way he runs shaky hands over the body confirms it.
The studio is silent, almost deafening with the sound dampening that’s installed. I pop the latch on one of the two guitar cases I brought over today. My favorite electric blue one, and the acoustic that Penny once again let me borrow.
Walker twirls a drumstick, the piece of wood just a flash of neon green orbiting his fingers with the speed in which he flicks it around. “What about Hold Onto Me?”
One of our first singles we ever released and a staple at every show we ever played in our career. I attach the strap to my electric guitar. “Good with me.”
“Same,” Hayden says.
Nikolai clears his throat with a sip of water. “Do we need a warm up?”
“Nah.” Walker shakes his head and strides toward the small drum kit Hayden set up in the corner of the studio. “Fuck it. Let’s just see how it goes.”
It does not go well. Nikolai’s vocals are flawless, but then again, he’s been the one still actively involved in music since we broke up.
I fuck up the chord progression on the second verse, which throws Walker offbeat for a good thirty seconds.
Hayden’s consistent with his bassline, but he lacks his usual confidence.
My fingers shake against the strings. I second guess almost every single move I make, which only makes me mad at myself. This isn’t how I play. This isn’t how we play.
By the time Nikolai’s final note rings out, the energy has changed from excited to dreary. Nikolai spins to look at everyone. “That could’ve been worse.”
“Could it?” Walker asks, flicking his hair back from his forehead.
“I mean, I’m sure we sounded worse when we first started.”
“That’s not saying a whole lot,” Hayden grumbles.
“That was fucking garbage,” I add.
Nikolai shoots me a dull look. “That’s not helpful.”
“Never claimed to be.”
“Let’s just run it again, okay?” He gets everyone ready to go, and the second time is slightly better.
We switch to a different song, this one a little slower tempo, and again, it’s a bit of an improvement from the last one.
We run through a few more before deciding to call it on that, all sufficiently warmed up.
Everyone switches over to the seating area surrounding a small glass coffee table. I grab the acoustic guitar before sitting next to Nikolai on the gray leather couch. Hayden sits to my left in an armchair, Walker to the right in a matching one.
“Does anyone have any ideas they wanted to start with?” Hayden asks. Our song writing process was almost down to a science by the time we recorded our fourth album. But when we tried, and failed, at writing the fifth album, I think that process went out the window.
Clean slates.
“I had an idea for a song a few weeks ago.” I pull the notebook out from my guitar case and set it on the coffee table.
“It’s probably shit because it’s been so long since I’ve written, but maybe it’s something to get us brainstorming at least?
” The back of my neck grows hot as the three of them take turns reading over what I wrote.
It’s been so long since I’ve even attempted to write lyrics, let alone allow someone else to read them.