Chapter Thirty-Three
“Ethan”
One week later…
Avery sits on the table, her feet planted on a chair, huddled over her laptop as I make us dinner. I hear her hit a key hard, and I glance over my shoulder. She’s hit refresh again. She’s been wired since she uploaded and released her book last night.
“Is it live yet?”
She shakes her head, annoyed. “No. Don’t know why it’s taking so long. It said it would take twelve hours. It’s been nearly twenty. Maybe I made an error or something.”
I move the contents of the skillet with a fork. “Probably karma. You know that part about not telling me you were writing a book. Now it’s not releasing because you withheld vital intel from your guy.”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t tell anyone I was writing a book.”
I give her a heavy stare. “I’m not just anyone. And you must have. How’d my folks know?”
She sets down her laptop and comes up behind me, slipping her arms around me as she presses her cheek into my back. “Don’t know. But if I were to guess: just a logical assumption by your dad. He’s very observant. Seems to know everything about everything. Every blogger I know is writing a book or has released one. An assumption, I guess.”
“You should have let me read it before you uploaded it.”
“Nope, that’s my marketing strategy. I figure if I don’t cave to the pressure of you asking me to see it I’ll sell at least one copy after it releases.”
I laugh. “Oh, you can count on it. Nothing betrays the thoughts in a girl’s mind better than writing a book. I’m going to have you all figured out after I read it.”
She makes a face at me. “No, I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Well, if there are parts about me, they should be useful to unraveling the secret inner Avery. Lots of scenes about how you lusted after me from stage left? Maybe a fantasy or two of your own?”
“It’s not that kind of book.”
My brows hitch. “No? It sounds like it is given the title. Meet Me in the Ladies’ Room. Like it’s going to be packed with racy tidbits of backstage life”—I frown—“and other things you’ve been doing that I don’t know about.”
“Yep, you’ve found me out.” She pushes Ginger up against my ass, using her to rub me there. “Every page is about me worshipping you from afar. It’s a sex fantasy book.”
“Oh, can’t wait to read it now.” I laugh, scooping grilled chicken onto our plates. “Close that laptop. No refreshing the screen while you eat. No work. Nothing blocking you from view for me. That’s my fantasy today.”
Four hours later, I’m lying on a chair on my deck, enjoying a beer and the sunny day, and Avery charges through the open doors, laptop glued to her fingers again.
She sets it on the table beside me. “Look at that. I’m live and I’m selling.”
I lean over and my eyes widen. Jesus Christ, she is selling. I don’t know how much that is, but I didn’t expect her to sell on release day. “Wow. I’m impressed. How’d you do that? We’ve spent most of the day being nasty together. How are you making love to me and promoting simultaneously?”
She shrugs, but I can tell by her glow she’s proud of herself. “Well, this is what I figured. I’m a blogger. I create miraculous buzz for bands. I should be able to do it for me, right? Same game plan, just the product’s different. So I’ve been posting some spicy tidbits, quotes here and there, an excerpt, creating interest for the last two weeks, and once the book went live I loaded my auto-poster to blast my release across social media, and I sent out a mailer to my fans list, and voila. There. I’ve sold and have a rank.”
I pull her up on my lap. “You’re amazing. You don’t fail at anything. I’m proud of you, babe. Makes me less worried if I decide not to sign with the label and cut ties with the band and do an indie thing of my own. You’re amazing at promotion and buzz.”
She turns until she’s lying back against my chest, staring at the city, too. “I’d do that for you if you wanted me to. You’ve got everything you need to record, release, and get your music out there on your own. I’m your biggest fan, remember? And now I’m your partner. We could both be off the road. Live in our own space, create our art however we want to. Promote and support each other. I’m up for that if you are.”
I set my chin on her shoulder. “Sounds like heaven to me. You and me, Avery. Doing everything together. Living our life, you and me, babe. Always.”
She leans to hit update on her computer again, and the orange bar on her sales screen grows.
“How much is that?”
She peeks at me, crinkling her nose. “Not a lot. The orange makes it look more impressive than it is. That’s just under four hundred sales, which isn’t that much money considering how much time went into the work, but I couldn’t be more thrilled. We’re doing our own thing together, and that’s kinda cool, isn’t it? You and me, E. An unstoppable team.”
Together—that I absolutely love. “Very cool.”
My door chimes sound and we stare at each other, twin looks of dread.
“Do you think it’s your family?” she asks apprehensively.
“No. Probably Dillon. Us being alone I knew was too good to be true to last forever. Fuck, they’ve tracked us down.”
Her head tilts as she makes a face. “Well, it wasn’t like we had a good plan. Your place, E. Kind of obvious, don’t you think?”
I set her on her feet. “Yeah, but fuck, I thought since it’s been three weeks, my folks’ paranoia over Eric’s predicament must’ve died down, that Carson had given them the A-OK sign, crisis over, and maybe they’d cut me a break.”
She pouts and kisses my chin. “Doesn’t matter. We’ve got things figured out. We know what we’re doing. We’re happy. Now go get rid of whichever member of your family is out there.”
I toss her an annoyed glance. “Bossy now that you’re the woman of the house, aren’t you? You go get rid of them.”
“Your family, your problem. My family, my problem. That’s how this works.”
“Yeah, but my family likes you better than they like me,” I grumble, really not in the mood for whoever’s on my stoop about to ruin my bliss here.
When I open the door, my muscles tense and my eyes flare wide. “Mr. Hart. What are you doing here?”
Sean Hart smiles affably, but his gaze does a fast once-over of my shirtless chest and pajama bottoms. “Something tells me you weren’t expecting us. I take it Emmy forgot to text ahead. Avery asked her to drop off some of her things here, and, since most of her things are at our place as she uses us as a closet and we have the van, I figured we’d bring it all here in one trip.”
Van? Stuff? “That’s very considerate of you, sir.” I look past him to see Skyler pulling a box from the cargo bay.
“Can’t blame a father for wanting to see where his free-spirit daughter has landed,” Skyler says. “Though you might have wanted to have discussed this with us before you two kids did anything.”
Heat rolls my flesh. “Yes, sir. We probably should have. Would you like to come in?”
Skyler brushes past me with a load in his arms, and Sean’s gaze locks on me. “This living together thing. What’s up with that? Avery’s the kind of girl a guy marries. It took years for gays to get the right to marry, and all young people want to do is shack up together. I’m a marriage kind of man. You should think about it, Ethan.”
“Yes, sir.” I’m a marriage kind of man, too. It’s Avery who’s not into traditional anything, but I don’t bother saying that. “I’ll work on it, sir.”
“Good,” Sean says. “That’s all we can ask of you two. Keep an open mind for the future. And never forget, she’s got two dads watching out for her. Step out of line with our girl and you’ll hear from us.”
“I’d never step out of line with Avery. I love your daughter.”
“Then next time, maybe include us in what you’re doing so we feel you respect us,” Sean says, holding his arms wide. “I’m sure you told your family. We deserve the same courtesy.”
“It’s your fault, babe, that Avery didn’t discuss it with us first,” Skyler says from the living room, then I hear a thump like he’s dropped the box he was carrying. “You’re the one who taught our kids to chart their own paths and be independent.”
Sean rolls his eyes. “Everything’s always my fault. Now, where’s Avery?”
“Inside, sir. I’ll get her.”
I gesture him into the house, show him to the living room, and hurry out onto the deck for Avery. “Your dads are here.”
She looks up from the laptop and shrugs. “Oh. Wasn’t expecting them so soon. They should have texted before they swooped in. Definitely need to get that clear with them or they’ll be dropping in unannounced all the time. But I’m glad they’re here. I need my junk, my clothes, my things. Can’t wear your boxers and shirts forever. Go get my dads something to drink. I’ll be right there.”
She stands up and, oh Christ, yep, she’s wearing my boxers.
“Can you get dressed before you join us in the living room? They’ve already given me a rash of shit.”
Giggling, she rises on tiptoes to kiss my nose. “My dads just like to mess with people. They don’t mean anything. They’re not judgmental. Not in any way. Let it roll off your back.”
“Well, why don’t we do this? Your family, your problem. That’s your rule. You go deal with them.”
She shakes her head at me and hurries into the house. “Dad and Daddy,” Avery exclaims ecstatically in a way that brings a smile to my face.
God, I love that woman.
Yep, stole your line, Pop.
After I help her dads move in Avery’s things, we have drinks on the patio and discuss with them what we’re doing with our lives. Avery’s sparkly from head to toe, and it’s enough for the Harts to see that she’s happy.
Her dads leave on a better note than they arrived. Later in bed, Avery curls into me and kisses my chest. “It’s hard to believe three weeks ago everything seemed so hopeless and now we’re so happy. Ethan, we’re so lucky. We know what we want. We know who we want. We love each other and we don’t need anything else. We have everything.”
My arms tighten around her.
My thoughts exactly.