Chapter 12 – Ravvi
Chapter Twelve
Ravvi
The adrenaline rush that comes from rocking out on stage is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
Truth be told, I love nights like this.
Damian is in his element. He’s on the violin for this song, and he shreds it. The sharp tones echo around the stadium, and the audience watches with rapt fascination.
It’s like this when my mom plays too. Everyone holds their breath, lost to the experience of watching a true musician at work.
Not to downplay any of our talent. We’re also talented musicians, but there’s something about watching a prodigy when they’re in the zone.
It’s almost like the music flows through them from some higher power or level of consciousness.
Hell, I don’t know how to explain it.
There is something more to this world beyond what our human eyes can see. I know that with every fiber of my being.
I have almost no memories of the time before I was adopted. The only one that really stuck with me was Bryan, and I think that’s because he hung around for years after I went to live in Colorado.
He disappeared before I was ten, but he was one of the voices I trusted first. He got most things right, especially the parts about Cove. He told me I would meet a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl, and that she would become my entire world.
The one thing I remember most from my time in the orphanage was how lonely it was.
Before Lyric scooped me up, I can’t remember a time of being truly loved. Hell, I can’t even remember being held.
But I do have the vaguest memories of Bryan coaching me how to play the piano and the letter names for all the keys.
All of that would likely have been lost as I aged, but it’s what I told my parents, and they reminded me enough over the years that I held on to slivers of those memories.
It gave them comfort to know Bryan was still around in some capacity, and I’m grateful he found me. Although, it hurts my brain when I try to think about how he did.
Maybe our fates are already written.
Or maybe they’re what we make them.
I don’t have a clue, but I really wish I had a trustworthy whisper around to tell me how much longer I have to wait for my soulmate to come around.
The meet-and-greet is packed tonight. There are all the normal faces—frat guys, college chicks, and the occasional couple. There are even a few housewives bouncing around the room, but they’re old enough to be our parents, so it’s weird as shit when they hit on us.
I end up talking to two women who are old-school Madness fans. It’s rare to see someone from our generation so enamored with Madness. Usually everyone our age wants to talk about Ruin, the band Damian’s and my dads were a part of back in the day.
I already know it’s coming before the ladies ask me to introduce them to Damian. They always want a picture with him because he’s the original Damian’s namesake and biological grandson.
I’m just the lucky stray Lyric took pity on. Not that I’ve ever believed my family sees me that way, but in some interactions with fans, it’s clear they do.
I laugh and glance over, taking stock of Damian’s posture.
He seems fine.
No one is fucking with him.
He’s got his earbuds in.
“Yeah, I think we can swing a quick introduction.” I guide them over and give Damian a heads-up that the ladies would like a picture.
The chicks funnel together in the middle, and I toss my arm around the shoulder of the woman closest to me as she holds out her phone to take a selfie of the four of us.
Cove pops up, smiling and waving. “I can take one of the four of you, if you’d like.”
The woman hands over her phone, and I start to feel like I’ve committed a crime.
Do I have PTSD or something?
This isn’t healthy. It’s conditioned anxiety, and it’s a bitch to deal with.
Tossing an arm around a fan for a picture isn’t exactly comparable to if Cove walked in on me sticking my dick in someone, but I never know what will set off an argument.
I stretch my arm over, giving Damian bunny ears.
The interaction is over quickly, and I step away, but I can’t figure out why Cove hands off the phone and slides over to stand at my side.
She tilts her face up to mine and smiles. I’ve seen this particular look on her face a lot over the years, but it’s so rarely directed at me that I start to get anxious.
“I heard we’re in a hotel tonight,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine.
“Yeah, Simon warned me and the twins to pack a bag before we left the bus.” I bounce on my toes and end up rubbing my hands together. It’s a weird-ass nerve tick. “It’ll be nice to sleep in a real bed.”
“It will,” she agrees, peeking around.
I quirk an eyebrow, but I don’t think she notices, because it looks like she’s checking to make sure the women moved along.
They’re gone.
Damian also meandered over to sit by Declan.
I bet he’s hoping Declan will protect him by ensuring he doesn’t have to interact with anyone else tonight.
He’s usually fine with signing autographs.
It’s the talking and touching people that gets questionable.
Other times, he’s fine for all three. It just depends on whether he’s overstimulated.
“Are you hungry?” Cove asks, focusing back on me. “I’m hungry—like starving. I was hoping the two of us could talk. Maybe at the hotel? We could order room service or get something delivered. I don’t know. It’s just an idea—”
“I could eat,” I say, wondering why there are no whispers around to give me some idea of what the fuck is happening.
“Okay, perfect.” Her face lights up in a way that makes my heartbeat funny.
I guess the only thing I can do is wait and see what’s going on.
The hotel is nice.
We end up in two suites with four rooms in each. Riot, Creed, and Bellamy take one of the suites, while Declan, Damian, Cove, and I end up in the other. They’re exact copies of each other and on the same floor.
It’s going to be annoying if the twins throw a party, which has been known to happen every single time we end up in a hotel. It’s still a little early for that, but I am suspicious about why they’re hanging out in our room.
I mean, we all ate together, then Cove disappeared to take a shower while Damian and I came out on the balcony to smoke. I’m trying to get everyone to disperse, so Cove and I can talk, but they all keep close.
Bells said she was going to skip this round, but Riot and Creed are lingering on our balcony when they could be out at a bar finding people to bring back for the party that we all know they’re going to have.
It’s making me suspicious.
“All right, so we finally have forward movement.” Riot leans forward, swiping his beer off the table. His shoulder-length locs fall around his face as he smirks, pointing the bottle at me. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“See, what you need to do is chill,” Creed says. “Accept her apology or whatever, but make sure you apologize too. I’ve been thinking about this. You’re both hardheaded.”
“Here.” Damian stretches an arm over, patting my chest with the back of his hand as he holds out a joint. “You need this more than I do.”
I laugh, grabbing it and taking a hit. “I wish I knew what this intervention was about.”
I’d rather smoke a blunt than a joint. The throat burn is better that way, and the fruity bump you get from blowing it out your nose, but whatever. This will have to do.
“Don’t play dumb,” Creed says, pulling his hands up.
He keeps them about an inch apart and weaves them up and down.
“This is you and Cove. You’re like the same sides of magnets.
You’ll get close, but there’s a line where you get too up close and personal.
That’s where you both start pushing back, always keeping a level of distance. ”
I exhale, passing the weed as I cough. “That’s her, not me.”
Riot snatches the joint. “You’re self-righteous. She’s stubborn. Actually, you both are.”
“You’ve told her that she’s going to love you so many times, I’m tired of hearing it,” Damian says, laughing.
“Yup,” Creed agrees. “And you had the chance to deepen your relationship years ago when she first went into heat.”
“Do you think it didn’t mess her up to see you walk away?” Riot chokes out as smoke spills from his nose.
“She’s an omega. They don’t do well with rejection,” Creed chimes in.
“This is basically dead. You want it or should I put it out?” Riot asks.
“Kill it,” Creed says, shaking his head.
“Is anyone going to consider how I felt?” I grind out, contemplating where I can find new friends.
“I had two options. Neither of them was good. If I had stuck around, one of two things would have happened. I would have lost myself to the fog and bitten her, which only would have given her more ammunition to hate me.”
An even worse possibility would be that she could have denied the bond. I don’t even say that part out loud because I don’t want to put it out into the universe. If someone denies a claiming bite, that’s it. There are no second chances. You never get to try again with that person.
I get myself back on track and go on. “The second option is, by the grace of God, I managed to control myself even in rut. Once her heat was over, she would have wanted to go back to just being bandmates. That would have made me resent her. I had no good choices to choose from.”
“Yeah, we get it,” Riot says.
He says that, but I don’t think he really does.
I have morals and values that I’m not going to compromise for anyone.
“I’ve seen the mistakes our parents made. The first person I have sex with is also going to be the last.” I know that they know my stance on this, but they seem to forget at the most inconvenient times. That, or they don’t take my conviction seriously.
I’ve held out for twenty-four years. I can hold out for a few more if I have to.
“I get what you mean. I really do, but one of you is going to have to give a little. You act like you don’t understand how women work.
” Creed takes a swig of his beer and drops it on the table.
“How sex works, in general. There’s all sorts of feelings and hormones and shit.
That’s just science, and that’s outside of the science between compatible alphas and omegas. ”
“Basically, you’re saying what?” I ask, struggling not to roll my eyes.
I swear to God, they don’t listen to me at all.
They want you to accept some type of no-strings-attached arrangement, a low male voice murmurs close to my ear. Would that really be so bad?
I’m not expecting it, and I jolt.
Jesus Christ.
I hate reacting to the whispers.
When they know they can get a reaction, they keep trying.
“Let her use you for sex for a while, if that’s what it takes,” Riot pipes in, looking exasperated that I haven’t picked up on what they’re putting down.
“Once you’re hooking up, the lines get messy.
How many people have sworn they were just casually hooking up and ended up married?
I mean, I don’t know the statistics or anything, but I bet it’s a fuckton. ”
“Probably at least as many have ended up destroying their friendships.” I scoff.
“Are the two of you even friends at this point? Or do you tolerate each other because you’re bandmates?” Creed asks.
I narrow my eyes, glancing between the twins. I’m enjoying this conversation less and less the longer it goes on.
I wanted to relax, tackle that conversation with Cove, and pass the hell out for the night.
“They’re working on it,” Damian says. “And he gets the point. Now, let’s talk about you two not throwing a party that we’re going to have to listen to all night.”