Chapter Thirty-Four
“Ethan”
I’m working in my studio, since Avery kicked me out of the bedroom so she could write, and struggling to get in the zone to make some music again.
So much for being in our own space, doing everything together, and creating our art the way we want to. The best inspiration for me is lying on the bed, staring at Avery until words and music fill my head. But she banished me two hours ago, something about not being able to focus on her thoughts with me touching her every two minutes. I wouldn’t touch her if she wasn’t so damn enticing, and touching her has a way of making the juices—creative and otherwise—flow in me.
Frustrated, my hands still on the strings. It’s not as easy, the creative process, without Eric. We worked together on every song Black Dawn ever released. Right up until that last album, when he cut everyone, including me, out of the process.
Maybe that’s why those last tracks we recorded were shit. Hugh’s right about that. Maybe my music without my brother will only be shit, too. I hadn’t considered that before. That separately we might not be able to be who we are together.
I try not to think about it, but I can’t help but wonder where Eric is and how he’s doing. I’m confident he’s all right. If something was wrong with my brother I would feel it. That inescapable twin thing and all. But I haven’t felt the twist in my gut since he skipped the country. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s doing well.
I nod—my life is going well.
Found me a woman to love.
An amazing woman who loves me.
I’m clear in my head about what I want and where I’m going for the first time since I dropped out of MIT. And if something was wrong with Eric, my life would be fucked up, too. It’s that weird yin and yang I have with my brother.
Not feeling particularly brilliant, I set down my guitar and call it a day. Better use of time: vegging on the patio, having a beer, and waiting for my woman to finish her work and want me.
I’m halfway to sleep on a lounger when I feel weight across my thighs, softness pushing up against my cock, and get a nice whiff of Avery with my inhale of air.
I open my drowsy eyes to find her curled on my lap, and my arms close around her. “You done writing?”
“No. Got interrupted and I was on a roll. The doorbell rang. Didn’t you hear it?”
My lids droop closed again and I’m feel groggy still. “No. Too busy thinking up new fantasies of you. Another ten minutes of sleep and I’ll have it perfected in my mind.”
“Is that why you sent me these? Thinking nasty thoughts, and you thought it’d get me to quit writing early. That’s devious of you, E. But adorably romantic.”
She snuggles her back into me, and I hear a rustling sound. That’s when I notice the long florist box she’s holding.
“Wow. They’re beautiful.” She scoops up the pile of flowers and takes a deep smell. “These are the most gorgeous color of orange rose I’ve ever seen. They must have set you back some bank. I’ve never had flowers from a florist sent to me before. We have a little, itty-bitty quarrel so I can work, and you do this to make up. Yep, I’m liking you again, Ethan. Consider getting your fantasy a sure thing.”
She turns into me, claiming my mouth in a hard, happy kiss, and I’m wide awake now. “Good to know, but I didn’t send those. Who the hell sent you flowers, Avery?”
Her brows shoot up as mine shoot downward into a frown. Her impish chocolate eyes turn into a bright light show as she rudely laughs in my face. “Oh, I have many admirers. I’m not telling you about all of them.”
Capricious Avery I adore, but I’m not loving it right now.
“Seriously, why would some guy send you flowers to my place?”
Her laughter grows louder. “God, look at you. Going from zero to wrong conclusion this quickly. Just like you did when I asked you to leave the bedroom so I could work. Sometimes you’re like a little boy afraid someone’s going to snatch your toy from you. But it’s kinda cute to see you jealous.”
Not loving that one either. “Not jealous—and trust me, no one is stealing you from me. I just want to know who sent you flowers.”
She rummages around the box and says aha when she finds a card. She opens it, keeping the paper away so I can’t read it, before she lifts a brow at me. “I have an admirer who thinks I’m remarkable.”
“Does this admirer have a name?”
“Yep.” Then she leaves me hanging as she waves the damn note in my face, before springing from my lap and the lounger.
I stare up at her. “You going to tell me who sent them so I know who I need to have a talk with?”
She rolls her eyes, then laughs. “He only gave one name. Alan. But I think we can safely assume it was your dad. He sent me flowers, congratulating me on releasing the book. Your father is so thoughtful and sweet.”
Thoughtful and sweet—not how I’d describe Pop—and what’s up with sending Avery flowers when he hasn’t sent me so much as a text since our prison break? Not even my sisters have gotten up in my shit. That I didn’t expect, and it’s like no one’s even thinking of me, not even my mother.
Avery releases a book and they send a present.
I’m happy for the first time in a long time and there’s nothing from them. I shake my head, running my fingers through missing hair again. “Fuck, I don’t understand my family.”
Her eyes widen, puzzled, then she pouts. “What’s to understand? They’re nice people. Why are you a grim cloud and unhappy over this? I would have thought you’d be happy your family likes me. I’m happy my dads like you.”
That makes me feel like an overreacting idiot, and I shrug. “Not one of them has called me in three weeks. Shouldn’t someone have reached out by now? Tried to figure out what’s up with me? We just left the ’Sades without a word to any of them and no one is even calling, wondering what I’m doing. It bugs me, OK?”
She settles back on my lap. “They’re just giving us space, Ethan. That’s all. You don’t need to make more of this than it is. Your family loves you. Just because they’re not calling doesn’t mean they don’t care about you.”
She’s right, and in the normal course of things I wouldn’t, but I’m having that what the fuck is happening in my life feeling again, like there are things I don’t know that everyone else is clued in on. Even Avery. And I hate it. Feeling shut out of something, not even knowing what. But there’s no denying I’ve felt this way since Eric left California. It’s like I’m no longer plugged in with what goes on with my family.
“Well, sometimes it feels that way,” I confess, knowing this is going to make me sound pathetic. “Like I’m the second thought to them. Eric is first concern. Turn everyone’s life upside down without notice for him. But me, I’m the afterthought.”
Her mouth curls downward at the corners. “You’re not an afterthought. Not to me. And not to them either.”
From her pocket, she pulls out her phone and hits the screen. She’s got the phone to her ear.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling your dad to thank him for the flowers. Did it ever occur to you he might have sent them as a nonintrusive way to reach out to us? That sounds like Alan to me. Respectful of our privacy and independence, but ready for us to come back on the grid. Making a gesture so we’d make contact. That’s why I think he sent me those flowers today. It’s about reaching out to you, not me. I’d bet on it.”
“My dad isn’t that subtle. Unlike my mom, you always know where Alan stands and what he’s thinking.”
She sticks her tongue out at me before she smiles and gushes into the phone, “Thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”
I can hear my dad’s voice float from the receiver, but damn it, I can’t make out what he’s saying. My annoyance is further fueled when Avery stands and steps away as she listens.
“No. We’ve been busy. It’s a lot of work releasing a book as an indie. So much to learn. So much to do. You never know what you don’t know until you try to do it. We’ve both been working a lot. Ethan’s been writing some amazing music. And we’re still in that trying to figure out how to live together and work together phase. Maybe you and Chrissie can give us some pointers on that one.” She laughs and I tense. “Oh, I forgot you didn’t know. But then, how could you? Moved my things into the house last week. Thank you. I’m happy for us, too.”
Great. She’s jumped ahead of me telling my family about us. “Hold on, he’s right here,” she says, holding out her cell to me, one hand covering the microphone.
Fuck.
She gives me a hard stare. “Talk to your father now, Ethan,” she says nearly soundlessly. “In my family, we talk, we don’t let things stew. You got an issue—and with the junk you’re saying I think you do—get rid of it now so we can go back to being happy.”
“Have I mentioned before you’ve gotten bossy since I let you move in here?”
Her eyes flare wide. “Let me, huh? More like begged me. You just lost your fantasy.”
Good one, Ethan. I think she means it.
I take the phone. “Hi, Pop.”
“How are you doing, Ethan?”
Not the first question I expected. What I expected was a rash of shit for skipping out and quitting Eric crisis management without a word to any of them. “Good. Really good. We’re just hanging out. Trying to get our shit together.”
“Sounds to me like you have everything together. Avery’s a wonderful girl. Your mom and I have been rooting for her from the sidelines. We sort of thought something was there between you two.”
Laughter pushes through my tight throat muscles. “Yeah, I could tell. My sisters, too, I think. Especially Khloe.”
“Oh, definitely. You know how Khloe likes to fix everyone’s life. She’s enormously pleased with herself over this. Though it’s probably not your primary concern, you’ve made your sister very happy.”
We both laugh, then there’s a strange sort of silence where everything tightens up inside me again because I’m wondering if talking to him has always been this strained and if I’ve only not known it. Or maybe because the only thing we’ve talked about for a very long time is Eric.
“You all fine at home, Dad?”
“Don’t worry about us. We’re doing well.”
“Have you heard from Eric?”
“No. But Carson’s let us know everything’s well and taken care of with him. It’s been an enormous relief to your mother.”
I straighten up in my chair. “Everything is OK? What exactly does that mean? Is he coming home anytime soon?”
“Not directly, son. For now, it means your sisters are heading home and we all go back to normal living again.”
“I don’t understand. If everything is fine with Eric, why can’t he come home?”
“It’s not that he can’t. It’s only that he hasn’t.”
What the fuck does that mean? “Are you telling me it’s safe for him to come back, he knows it, and he hasn’t?”
“We all have shit from time to time we need to work through on our own, Ethan. That’s what your brother is doing. From where I sit, it’s what you both are doing, I think.”
“I should let you go, Dad.”
“What are you and Avery doing this afternoon? Come to the house. We’re having an early dinner before Kaley and Krystal hit the road. See your sisters before they leave for home. It’d be nice to have all you kids together and welcome Avery to the family properly.”
“Today? Early dinner today?”
“Only if you don’t have plans.”
“Let me check with Avery.” I mute the call and look up at her. “Everything is good with my brother. That’s why my family hasn’t been bugging me. No need for security or for them to worry anymore. Eric’s fine. And they want us to come over to the house for dinner. You up for that?”
Her eyes scream I told you so before she nods at me to let me know we’re going. “See you this afternoon, Pop.”
I hang up and hand Avery back her cell.
“I’m glad you talked to your dad. Boy, Ethan, you stew over things and get the wrong thoughts too fast sometimes. Surprising, because you’re always so grounded and rational.”
I pull her back onto my lap. “Not always.” I’m thinking about how I was with Avery before we were happy together, but I don’t tell her that as I carry her into the bathroom. Instead, when we climb into the shower, I lift her up against the tile and make love to her, because everything good in me right now, everything that makes sense is Avery.